“Aren’t all drakcol mates bonded by the Crystal?”
“There are two different types of mates: chosen and bound. Chosen is when a drakcol starts to perceive someone as their mate, usually after they have fallen in love. The mate bond naturally forms. Bound mates are when a drakcol seeks the Crystal for their soulmate, if they have one. The soulmates aregenetically linked in a ceremony, then reaffirm or shatter their bond in front of the Crystal.”
“That’s awesome.”
“It is,” he replied.
“Why doesn’t everyone do that?”
“Not everyone has a soulmate, and learning that you don’t have one is hard to accept.”
I got that.
“There is also the fear of what might happen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Whether bound or chosen, we brave the threat of rejection or death,” Zoltilvoxfyn said. “Drakcol don’t often survive the loss of our mates. We love too wholly and completely. If our mate rejects us or they die, chosen or bound, we most often wither away. Mates are important, and we mate but once.”
That was so romantic and yet sad. To have your whole life dependent on another like that was terrifying. It was a wonder any drakcol fell in love or sought the Crystal.
“So,” I said, changing the subject, “you have four brothers?”
“Three older. One younger.”
“I have three brothers, all older.”
“So you are the pest for your family?” he asked.
I chuckled. “Most definitely.”
When his eyes crinkled in humor, I swore I felt something again—something soft and slight, but so warm.
The three moons and unfamiliar stars hung over me. I was sitting on Zoltilvoxfyn’s balcony, watching the city that was full of lights. The glass spires twinkled in the moonlight, giving it a magical air. He’d told me I could stay here overnight, and I gotthe impression from the way he insisted, multiple times, that he would feel more comfortable if I did.
Would I sit here every night? No, I would not. It would bore the ever-living hell out of me. But it wouldn’t hurt to sit here for the first night to make him happy.
A breeze blew through the leaves, rattling them, and I pretended it ruffled my hair, even though I’d forgotten what that truly felt like.
Twenty-three years was a very long time.
I was pretty sure that I hadn’t imagined feeling something before. It had been more than emotional phantoms. It had been physical. A whisper-soft touch on my hand when Zoltilvoxfyn stared at me, and then the warmth when he laughed. I felt it. Truly. Faint and basically non-existent, but it was like a brand burning my memories.
I burrowed against my knees, hiding a smile. It was ridiculous, this blooming crush, but I couldn’t stop it, and if I was going to be honest with myself, I didn’t want to. How long had it been since I’d cared about someone?
Yes, I cared about Seth because he was a human far from home, but I didn’t know him. Wyn seemed nice, as did Captain Talvax, Urgg, and Commander Monqilcolnen, but I didn’t truly care about any of them on a personal level.
Sunshine was different.
Somehow, though, I doubted he was interested in dating a ghost.
Chapter 12
Poor Wyn finds out the truth.
I sat on the ground right outside of the greenhouse, watching Zoltilvoxfyn give Seth a potted plant. He wouldn’t meet Seth’s gaze as he explained its care and what type of hybrid it was. Seth nodded along, eyes equally on the ground, and one of his fingers traced the round, spotted leaves, the stark pink a drastic contrast against his pale skin. Kal was nowhere to be seen, which surprised me. He seemed incapable of leaving Seth for more than a few minutes at a time, but I supposed miracles did happen.
Carrying the dark blue pot, Seth asked, “Is Caleb around?”
