“There’s nothing you could have done.”
I shook my head, leaning back to stand.
There it was, my question asked. And she’d avoided it.
Her hand caught mine. “If you leave tomorrow—which would be unfair and unjust and unfathomably senseless—without taking metonight, I will spend the rest of my life hating you for it.”
“That’s not the same as living without regret.”
“It’s exactly the same.”
I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, swiping all the rogue strands to one side. “Drones don’tcordae.” I let the end of the sentence trail away, suddenly unable to look anywhere but the corner of the bed.
She cocked her head, a twinge of expectancy sharpening her gaze. “Don’t orcan’t?”
“Listen.” I let all my air out in a heavy gust. “I was trying to get under your skin when I brought it up before. When I came here, I’d spent the last decade bathed in rock-dust and filth, only emerging when Thaan needed all hands to sack a mountain colony. And in a matter of days, I was suddenly locked in a Venusian room with a beautiful siren. I knew youwere worried and upset, so I was trying to distract you. Tease you. Aim your attention somewhere else.”
“Dronescancordae,” she said, pushing up to her knees, forcing herself within my line of sight.
I pressed my teeth together, sighing. “Drones can’tcordaewith humans, sirens, plants, land, water, or any living creature the way other Naiads can.”
Selena angled her cheek to the side, though she gazed at me straight on. “But?”
“We can’tcordae. Period. There’s no but.” I licked my lower lip. “There’s anand.”
She crossed her arms. “Okay, then. And?”
“CordaedNaiads become repulsed at sharing any partner other than theircordae. But something about drones turns that repulsion off.”
Selena’s eyes narrowed at hearing information she already knew. “Where’s theand?”
“And,” I said, “historically, drones only serveVideresor hive heirs after they’d lost a mate. Never before they find one.”
Her mouth twitched, words and questions sparking in her mind. “Servedmeaning…”
“Yes.”
She hesitated. “Because...”
“Because if a drone takes a Naiad,anyNaiad, before they have the chance tocordae, then they never will. With anyone. Ever.”
She shifted uncomfortably. Her blue gaze lowered, and I stood. Straightened. Counted the passing seconds in my mind, letting her absorb the words completely.
“I don’t see why that matters,” she finally said. But the confidence in her voice wavered, thin and unsure.
I swallowed, the feeling of it thick in my throat. “It matters because I know it’s important to you.Cordaeingsomeday. But it’s something I can never give you.” She didn't respond. I found my shirt rumpled on the floorand tugged it over my head, too ashamed to look at her. “I know that’s what you want. Some Naiad heir to sweep you off your feet and give you that special bond of deep connection of, you know—” My hand waved in the air, unable to conjure the right words. “Whatever it is acorda-cruordoes.”
I dared a glance at her. Thick with glossy shine, her eyes darted the instant they met mine.
I froze slowly. Something like panic sliced through my thoughts. But something calm did as well. The slow flood of resignation. Every question she’d ever left suspended in my mind suddenly dropped to the floor, their strings cut by the shears of her unveiled disappointment. And every blurry line I’d crossed in the past few weeks sharpened into clearly defined borders.
I wondered how deep the river of envy could flow from a man. Mine seemed to seep from the inside out. Shallow in a moment’s reflection. Tectonic as it rushed over my shoulders, threatening to drag me down. That any Naiad or human could give her what she wanted. But all I’d do was take her chance for it away.
Selena pulled her knees up, adding to that barrier between us, and slid a covert finger across her cheek. It had been years since I’d felt the ache of a tortured heart.
What could have been—layered underwhat will never be.
I swallowed it down, smiling softly. “I know I’m not the best kisser, but I didn’t think I was that bad.”
