means a lot to me. I was a criminal defense back on Earth, which meant I defended people accused of crimes.”
I studied her. “Were they guilty?”
“Some of them, sure. Not all of them. In my country on Earth, every citizen has a right to a defense. A judge, like your mother, or a council of sorts would make the decision. When I was a kid, my uncle was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. His attorney was able to prove he wasn’t where his accuser said he was at the time of the crime. That was one of the reasons I wanted to become a lawyer. To fight for those wrongly accused. I believe in justice.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I would have fought for you. You were accused of something you didn’t do, and what happened to you wasn’t fair. I know life isn’t fair. I know wrong men go to jail but…” she sniffed. “But that’s why I do what I do. Or did. I’m sorry those years were taken from you, Drak. I wish I could get them back for you.”
How did I express to her that in a way, life was simpler when I couldn’t flecking remember?
“Memory lost … on purpose,” I huffed out an irritated breath. “My mind … changed … to handle … what happened.”
She seemed to process my words before speaking. “You threw up a mental block, so you didn’t have to face the fact you lost your home and everything you knew?”
I nodded.
“I understand that. Before, your aura was a wall of gray smoke. I couldn’t see your light behind it. Just nothing.”
“Now angry … Sad … but also … happy. Angry at Crius. Sad about my life. Happy I met you … and the truth.”
“Do you remember what kind of warrior you were before you were cast out?”
“Proud,” I answered quickly. “Loyal. Strong.”
“You’re still all those things,” she said.
I rolled onto my side to face her. “Not ready to forgive.”
Her hand cradled my cheek. “You don’t have to forgive. Not now. Maybe not ever. What happened to you was not fair. All you can do now is choose the kind of warrior you’ll be moving forward.”
“What … if I don’t … want … stay?”
Miranda broke my gaze, her eyes dropping to the fur between us. “Then … we don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and sadness lurked in the her bloom in my mind.
I placed my fingers under her chin and lifted. Her brown eyes swam with wet. “You want…stay?”
She didn’t answer.
“Truth,” I rasped.
“I do,” she whispered.
“You’d leave?”
“You’re my mate.” She held up her wrists. “We’re cora-eternals. Fatas chose that for us.”
“Flecking Fatas,” I spat. “Nothing for … me.”
She went still. “So, you don’t believe I’m your mate? You don’t think these loks mean anything?”
“I do… But not … thanks … Fatas.” I inhaled sharply, my throat working through the fireball sitting there. “My mate … because … my bloom. You stay … I will. To make you … happy.”
She released a long sigh. “I don’t want that. You were forced to live a life you didn’t choose for ten cycles. How can I force you to make that choice again?”
I clenched my jaw. “For you.”
“And then resent me? You’d be miserable, and you can’t hide it, because you’re in my head!” She ended on a shout, jabbing her finger into her temple viciously.
I didn’t like her hurting herself. Her bloom trembled in agitation. I grasped her hand and began to vibrate in my chest—that usually calmed her.
Not this time. She yanked her hand back on a growl. “Don’t. Don’t do that purring thing for me to try to get me to calm down. It’s underhanded and sneaky. If I want to be frustrated, then let me be.”
“Don’t like—”
“I don’t care if you don’t like it. Don’t you see? We’re already fighting over this. I don’t know how this is going to work.” She sat up and hugged her knees, dropping her forehead on top of them. Her braids cascaded around her in a curtain.
“Merr-anda,” I whispered. “My bloom.”
She picked her head up. “And you’re my sun.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, this is happening fast. We will give it time. Daz said we could. I’ll think about how I’d feel leaving, and you can think about how you feel staying. But we have to agree. We aren’t sacrificing our happiness for each other. Neither of us deserve that.”
I nodded. I’d try. For her. But