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12

Five days.

We spend five days in peaceful bliss. Hours spent hunting and foraging. Exploring the beautiful planet we crash-landed upon. We clean up the ship, organize it, go through all its cupboards and storage places. We sleep. We carry water from the lake to the ship.

We begin to fall into a comfortable routine.

And I don’t spend one single minute trying to repair the ship.

There’s a little thought in the back of my head, one I feel too wicked to give acceptance to. There are hints of the future dancing on the edge of my memory.

But then, a little over a week after we crashed here, I wake to find Valen watching me, his eyes intense and boring into me. It’s a look that freezes me in place.

He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw is clenched tight. He’s breathing hard. And I can tell he’s barely containing words that aren’t really his.

“The pull is still there, isn’t it?” I say, because I know. I can see it all over him. The need to return to Cyrillius is killing him, and he’s ba
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