Page 31 of The Warlord's Secret Heir

When I get back to the flat, Kel’s asleep in my mother’s arms. He looks small. Smaller than usual. His breath rasps like he’s been screaming in his dreams. His skin’s waxy. The fever’s down from the antiserum, but not gone. It won’tstaygone.

Mama looks up at me like she already knows. Her eyes are red. Her face is older than it was yesterday.

“You’re not thinking?—”

“I’m not thinking,” I say, voice hoarse. “I’mdoing.”

“Jaela.” Her voice cracks. “Please. There’s got to be another way. I?—”

“There’s not.”

“Kel needsyou.What if you don’t come back? What if they kill you? What if they?—”

“Then he still has a chance.”

She starts to cry. That’s the worst part. My mama doesn’t cry. She survives. She gets quiet, folds clothes tighter, boils water harder. She doesn’t fall apart.

But tonight, she does.

I kneel in front of her and take her hand, and gods, it feels like sandpaper and ash and every moment I’ve ever disappointed her rolled into one.

“I have to do this,” I whisper.

“Ican’tlose you,” she says.

“You won’t,” I lie.

And then there’s Vira.

She’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed. Her eyes don’t shine like Mama’s. Her jaw is clenched like she wants to punch a star out of orbit.

“You’re going to a war zone,” she says flatly.

I nod.

“To find the guy who knocked you up and landed himself in galactic prison.”

I nod again.

She exhales through her nose. “You are such a goddamn idiot.”

I grin. It cracks my face like a breaking plate. “You love me anyway.”

She sighs. Walks over. Pulls a datachip from her jacket and slaps it into my palm.

“Access codes. Some Alliance overrides. And… my will.”

I blink. “Vira?—”

“If you don’t come back,” she says, “Kel’s mine.”

“Mama—”

“Can barely make rent. And you know it.”

“Vira, this isn’t?—”

“You trust me with him?”