Page 22 of Honor Bound

“He hasn’t eaten,” Julia said in greeting, her voice quiet but edged with concern. She stared through the window out into the garden, where Calstar knelt at the base of his daughter’s statue, his frail hands resting against the smooth stone. His presence there had become a ritual, one that seemed to drain more from him each time.

Roan followed her line of sight, his expression unreadable, though a shadow flickered behind his pale gray eyes.

“I’ll contact my grandmother. She needs to know, though I suspect she already does. There isn’t much that she misses.”

Julia nodded, relieved that he didn’t dismiss her concern. Without a word, he reached for a dish towel and began drying the plates she had just washed. She blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard.

“You do dishes?” she asked, half-teasing, half-genuine in her curiosity.

He smirked, though the expression was fleeting. “I wasn’t always a soldier,” he said, setting a plate aside. “Besides, if I don’t help, I’ll have to listen to my grandfather’s lectures on being useful.”

Julia chuckled, shaking her head as she rinsed another bowl. Their hands moved in sync—hers washing, his drying, an oddly intimate rhythm that neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge. When the last dish was put away, Roan set the towel aside, then turned to her, his gaze steady and unreadable.

“Come with me.”

Julia tensed, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice. “What?”

“Plateau isn’t safe for you,” he said, stepping closer. “Or for my mother’s people. The longer you stay, the greater the risk.”

Her pulse quickened, not just at his proximity but at the urgency beneath his words. “Have you met others like me?” she suddenly asked, searching his face.

Roan hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

Her breath hitched. “Who?”

He exhaled slowly, his glance drifting to his grandfather as he recounted the memory.

“He was on my warship.”

Julia raised a surprised eyebrow at his comment. His lips twitched with rueful amusement as he recounted what happened.

“He had just freed a prisoner and was sprinting down the corridor with a group of rebels. He stood out from the others—more disciplined. It was obvious he had military training, but there was something different about him—an air of control and command. What surprised me was that he carried the staff of a Gallant Knight. Seconds later, he was gone, but not before he gave me an odd salute.” He raised two fingers, mimicking the movement. His lips quirked slightly as he finished recounting the memory. “He disabled an entire warship.Mywarship. And he did it with a confidence that was… unnerving.”

Julia’s heart pounded.Josh.He was alive.She fought to keep her expression neutral, but something in her must have betrayed her.

Roan’s gaze sharpened. “You know him.”

She hesitated, then smiled, a secret curving at the edges of her lips. “Maybe.”

Roan’s entire posture changed. His jaw tensed, his breath subtly quickened, and something flickered in his pale gray eyes—something primal, possessive.

“Julia,” he murmured, stepping closer.

The air between them grew charged, heavy with unspoken things. She tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance, daring him to make sense of what was happening between them.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t careful like before. This was different—demanding, searching, a clash of emotions neither of them fully understood. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him, and she let herself be drawn in, let herselffeel.

Because in that moment, everything—her mission, the danger, the war raging across the galaxy—faded into nothing buthim.

When they finally parted, breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice rough with something she couldn’t name.

“Come with me.”

Julia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the war within herself. Then she exhaled, her answer lingering in the space between them.

And in that moment, nothing felt more inevitable.

---