Free Lunar Lovers by Emma Abbiss Page B

his
eyes and shook his head. “If I had been honest with you from the start… Well,
maybe you wouldn’t have believed me, but at least the Rane need to bond with
your mate and his brothers wouldn’t have taken you by surprise. At least then
you could’ve trusted me a little.”
    He gripped his knees, holding on to himself as if holding on
to his intense feelings. Achelle realized then that it was more than intuition
that allowed her to read him so well. This was part of what it meant to be a
bonded mate. Too bad he was right. He’d lied. She couldn’t trust him. More, she
couldn’t trust herself when it came to him.
    He seemed to sense her conclusion, his head dropping, his
shoulders angling down. She could feel his response and it wasn’t what she
thought it would be. Achelle had expected anger, demands—not this, not
disappointment, sadness, acceptance.
    She felt her brow go all wrinkly. She was honestly stunned.
Would he really let her go without a fight?
    Only one way to find out.
    She gripped the edge of the bench before collecting her
courage, pushing up off the cold metal to stand on shaky legs. “I’m sorry. I
really am. But I’ve got to go.”
    He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move or look up to meet her
eyes. He simply sat frozen, a humanoid statue depicting a man resigned to a
life of unhappiness.
    Achelle turned and walked away.
     
    Elbows on knees, Sam watched Achelle leave. It was like
watching his parents die all over again—his life was a vacant tomb, a mined
moon, a room full of fool’s gold. Empty. Hollow. Worthless.
    He stood and pulled the streamer from his pocket. The cool
living metal seemed to freeze the blood in his veins and numb his hand, his
arm, then reach inside the cavern of his chest to ice over his heart.
    Better than the pain , he thought as he walked to his
landing spot and activated the ship to close around him so he was like an
embryo within an egg.
    The flight home was an epiphany. He was utterly fearless,
flying at breakneck speeds, piloting the tiny vessel past stars and planets,
living and dead. For the first time since the day he received his learner’s
license, he flew with a casual confidence that could come only from ignorance,
arrogance or in his case, apathy. Live or die, he did not care.
    At home his brothers read enough through their familial bond
to know to keep out of his way, avoiding him as he pounded down the hall to his
room. Empty. Like everything else. He stood in the center of the large, open
space that waited no more for his mate’s contribution to the decoration. Like
Sam, the room would remain incomplete.
    He didn’t know how long he stood there in a stupor but what
roused his consciousness was a long ring coming from the all-know on the near
wall. On legs that felt as broken as the rest of him—he must have stood there
forever—he crossed the room and answered the ring.
    Instead of a call from one of his brothers or a foreman at
the mine, a see-all popped up on the panel to show Cannan walking into the
garage in subbasement two to greet…Achelle.
    Sam’s heart skipped and pounded in his chest.
    Achelle stepped down from the flip ship and said something
to Cannan that was inaudible to Sam over the see-all. But he didn’t care what
she said—she could rage, scream, condemn his actions for the rest of their
natural lives—as long as she was here to stay.
    Unable to bear the silent scene any longer, he left the room
at a run and didn’t skid to a stop until he was in the garage, inches from his
mate, taking in the bounty of her presence in his home.
    “You’re here,” he said stupidly.
    She took in a shaky breath. “I belong with you. I know that— oomph !”
    He grabbed her and hugged her to him. Tight. His hands
roamed her body, relearning each curve and line until he couldn’t bear the
clothing separating them and pulled her dress with his house colors over her
head.
    She gasped and crossed her arms over her high breasts,
glancing