27. Lily

Today was our final day together.

Then he would be taken from me and I would never see him again.

And each time those thoughts entered my mind, I immediately batted them aside and focused on whatever I was doing at the time.

He won his fights but lacked the usual swagger he entered the Prize Pool with. I never told the other Prizes what was happening. They didn't need to know.

They would only go on about it over and over again and then there really would be no way for me to forget about it.

He Claimed me, as always, this time without jokes or fanfare. I wrapped my arms around him and realized that this was a day of Last Times.

This was the last time he would Claim me…

The last time I would wrap my arms around him in front of the others…

The last time he would pick me up and carry me to his cell…

I felt the tears welling up again and I shook my head aggressively to dispel them. Not today! I berated myself. Later, I could cry all I wanted.But not today!

He laid me down on his fresh, crisp sheets and we made love. That was a last time too, although I was certain we would do it more than once.

Every touch of his skin brought electricity through me, every look lingered for what might have been hours. I let him have me, just as he let me have him. We needed each other and I would not ruin it with pointless arguments.

We laughed little and talked even less. Just being in each other's presence was enough.

This time, he didn't conjure up some far and distant land, some place in the cosmos that he had either been to or seen or imagined but instead we remained right where we were, because, at that moment, it was where we both wanted to be the most. Not on the surface of some distant sun or the glades of a forgotten moon… but right here.

In this cell. On this prison planet.

Alone. Together.

I kept hoping for a miracle to happen, for some office clerk to come in and declare that they got the dates wrong and that Ohara still had another year, month, week to serve (I didn't care how long, just so long as he would stay with me).

But it never happened.

It never paid to rely on miracles.

Now and then, when he thought I wasn't looking, he wore that same distracted expression as before when he had something he wanted to tell me… but couldn't.

I couldn't blame him for that. I likely wore the same look on my face.

There was so much to say, so much left for us to do… and yet, I couldn't bring myself to say any of it. How sad I would be when he was gone, how I would never fall for anyone else, how I would always remember him. How he was the best thing to happen to me my whole life.

How I don't want to let you go.

And that was the most truthful, the most honest thing I could have said.

But I didn't.

It was already hard enough, fighting to keep the tears firmly behind my eyes.

We ate delicious Earth food that had somehow been smuggled into the prison. I don't know where he got it from or how much it cost, and I didn't ask. I just enjoyed the familiar — although different — flavor of the pasta, pizza, burgers, curries, and delicious tiramisu (my fave!).

The food provided the perfect distraction and I told him all about my memories of eating it when I was back home, and how there were tons of other meals from all four corners of the world that were just as delicious.

Ohara cocked his head to one side. "Your planet has corners?"

And for the first time that day, I burst out laughing, cupping a hand over my mouth in my usual way.

I explained what it meant and Ohara went on to explain his favorite food too, where it came from, how it was cooked, and when his people ate it.

Then we talked about the special moments of our lives, going into such great detail that I could picture not only my memories with perfect clarity, but his too.

I drank in his words and stored them away to pick apart later. I would remember this moment forever and no one could ever take it from me. I loved being in his presence, being around him.

How crazy it was that I should meet him here, half a galaxy away from my small planet, our lives and histories and existence, having nothing to do with each other at all.

And yet, we were born to be together.

God, or the universe, or whatever was the conductor of this strange experience we called life, really did work in mysterious ways.

When morning rolled around and it was time for our time together to end, I didn't want to accept it. I hugged him and clutched him close.

The last time we would hug.

And this time, I couldn't hold the tears back. They rolled down my cheeks and gathered at the tip of my chin.

When Ohara pulled back, I was surprised to see tears in his eyes too, brimming but not quite rolling down his face. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't cry. I know that—"

"Hey," he said, tilting my chin up to look at him.

I refused as I didn't want him to remember me this way.

"Hey," he repeated. "This is not the end. It's only an end."

"You mean we'll be together again when we're dead?" I said. "I don't want to wait that long. I want to be together now."

There. I had said it.

Despite all my promises to myself that I wouldn't, I couldn't hold it back any longer.

He slipped his fingers through mine. "Our hearts are joined. We are as one. And so long as we draw breath, we will always be together."

"We're not together!" I growled. "We're not in the same room… in the same building… We won't even be on the same planet!"

"Our connection does not require such superficial things."

"Superficial?" I snapped. "Superficial? You call holding hands superficial? You call kissing superficial? You call making love superficial? Those things are everything!"

My chest heaved with exertion. Never before had speaking been so difficult and required so much from me.

"No, they're not," Ohara said softly. "They're nice. They're gifts. But they are not everything." He placed his fist on his chest. "This," he said, "this is everything."

Then he took my hand, folded it into a fist, and placed it on my chest. "This. This is everything."

I knew he was right.

Even with him gone, he was always still going to be with me, at least in spirit. Nothing could tear that part of him from me. But I still wanted his touch, his smell, to hear his words and see his body.

I shook the seeds of understanding off before they could take root. I didn't want to understand, damn it! I wanted to be upset and angry!

"It's all right for you!" I snapped. "You're getting out of here! I'm never getting out!"

"My mate," he said, and he spoke so softly, so gently, that it took me by surprise. "I have been at Ikmal for ten years, and yet only now do I realize, I was never truly a prisoner. I am a prisoner now. A prisoner of my heart and soul. You have caged me and I never want to be released."

He reached into his pocket and took out a necklace that glinted in the overhead lights.

"Take this," he said.

It was silver — no, it wasn't silver, but it looked like silver — and seemed to hold the light, making it glow with an unearthly intensity. At its center was an ugly lump of metal that hadn't been fashioned or shaped.

"In my culture, we have a ceremony," Ohara said. "It's a test of adulthood where we are thrust into the wilderness and forced to survive. We hunt and kill and survive off the land. It never ends, not until we discover our Soul Stone."

"That's what this is?" I said, holding the crude lump in my hand. "Your Soul Stone?"

He nodded and ran his fingers through my hair. "When we find our fated mate, we give it to them. They wear it forever and never take it off. So long as you have this, you have my heart, my soul."

I gripped it tight and it fit perfectly in my palm. "But I don't want your Soul Stone. I want you."

Another flood of tears threatened to overtake me.

"So long as you have my Soul Stone, you do have me," he said. "I know this is not what you want — what either of us wants — but it is how it must be. I must keep you safe and this is the only way I know how."

"By leaving me?"

He looked at me with a broken expression. "For now, yes."

I fell forward and he caught me in his arms, clutching me tightly to his chest.

"Everything is going to be all right," he said. "You'll see. You'll see."

He escorted me to his door and was about to step into the hallway with me when I stopped him.

"No," I said. "I want to say goodbye here. Not outside the Prize Pool. I don't want that to be our final moment together. With me going back to be a Prize."

He ran his fingers through my hair again. Oh, how I was going to miss his soft touch.

"You will never be a Prize ever again," he said. "This, I swear to you."

It seemed an odd thing to say but I ignored it. There was no way he could know that, no way he could prevent another inmate from Claiming me.

Still, I took some comfort in his words. They were nice to hear, even if they weren't true.

I embraced him again, for the last time, and kissed him on the cheek.

I whispered in his ear, "I will always love you, my fated mate."

He hugged me so hard, I thought he would crush all the air out of me. He pressed his lips to mine, again for the last time, and didn't seem to want to let go.

Finally, he reached for the door, looked away, his eyes shut, and let my hand slip from his as I stepped outside and returned to the Prize Pool the same way I had arrived there.

Alone.