“But, Dravidian, where would we go? How would we survive?”
He cupped her face in his hands. And though he was too close for her to see his face clearly, his beautiful eyes with their golden irises and Stygian pupils drew her in inexorably, like black holes with golden linings, if such a thing were even possible, and she whispered, “I would step through it ...”
He took her in his arms and drew her slowly against him. “And would you find the strength within yourself to persevere even when the world turns its cold face against us?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
“Then run with me, Shekalane. To the end of Ursathrax and beyond ...” And he gently but firmly locked his lips with her own.
She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, marveling that his dead-blue lips should be so warm while Valdus’, which were
