Free Colliding Worlds Trilogy 02 – Implosion by Berinn Rae

hate that you’re half Draeken, and you bundle up all that hate and shoot it at all of my people as punishment for Hillas’s sins. Face it, my dear, you’re a bigger hypocrite than me.”
    Nalea snapped back. “Homs was the closest thing I ever had to a father. He treated me and my mother as though we were family. So you can take your godsdamn righteousness and stuff it.”
    One side of his lips curled upward, but there was no hint of humor. “Ah, so cold Nalea can care for a Draeken. You better get damn good at showing that side if you want to convince Hillas.”
    “You’re not Homs,” she spat out.
    “No, I wasn’t incompetent enough to let you slice my throat.”
    Her jaw clenched as he stood and side-stepped around her.
    “I was twelve.”
    Roden glanced back. “What?”
    “I was twelve years old. I would’ve done things differently now, but at that time, I wasn’t strong enough to stand up against the death force. I would’ve been whipped right alongside Homs if I’d stood up for him.” She winced at the memory.
Such a straight cut, yet so much blood poured out. The blue sheets, the dark crimson.
She lifted her chin. “I did what I thought was best for Homs. I was trying to protect him.”
    “Remorse does nothing to untangle that knot in the heart, though, does it.”
    Nalea turned around to face Roden. It was the first time she truly saw a softness to his features, his silver eyes tinted with compassion. She frowned. “No, it doesn’t.”
    He stepped closer then. “We all have regrets. It’s what we learn from them that maps our future.” He lifted his hand as though to comfort her but then jerked away. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and walked past her.
    “What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought we have to go see Hillas.”
    “Not until sunset,” he replied curtly. “It’s late. I need some sleep. The bed is yours as long as you don’t talk.”
    She stared at him as he sat down, kicked off his boots, fluffed the pillow and gave her his back. His wings formed a wall, making it quite clear that the conversation was over. He pulled the blanket over him, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, and other than the blades I have on me, the others are safely locked away. You’ll find I’m not as easly to kill as Homs.”
    With that he rolled back over, and silence filled the room.
    Nalea lay down on the bed and watched him for several moments. Deep breaths were his only response. She rolled onto her back. Every night since Blood Night, she’d thought of Homs and what she’d done to the only other person she’d loved as much as she’d loved her mother. But, for the first time since that night, she no longer felt absolutely, abysmally alone.
    She closed her eyes, and a tear slipped free. The truth sat like a stone in her stomach.
    The man who lay on the floor several feet away had done horrendous things.
    So had she.
    He would do anything to accomplish his goals.
    So would she.
    She could no longer deny why the
tahren
bond sought Lord Roden Zyll as her soul mate. Everything she accused him of, she was guilty herself.
    They were both monsters.
    They were kindred spirits.

Chapter Eleven
    “At least you’ve finally decided to wear a shirt,” Nalea muttered under her breath in Roden’s direction as she tugged at the delicate gown once again.
    Roden didn’t understand why Sephian females chose to cover their bodies with drab clothing. Their golden skin, with hues of the
soullare
, was meant to be on display. He could’ve mistaken his passenger for a goddess, if he believed in that sort of thing. After giving her a full once-over, he flashed her a grin over from where he piloted the small ship. “You prefer me without?”
    “Hells, no,” she said far too quickly to be convincing. “And keep your eyes on the flight path. You’re going to get us killed before Hillas gets his chance.” She pointed ahead. “Watch out!”
    He reluctantly turned back to piloting the ship, pulling up just