Part of him wished he could forget her. No one had ever made him feel as she did, and he feared that no one else ever would.

He glanced through the window and saw her preparing food in the kitchen. The warm glow of her skin and her huge, dark eyes never ceased to delight him. She had no idea how rare a beauty she was, which only added to her appeal.

The tight cling of her clothing displayed lush curves, reminding him all too keenly of how soft and pliant she was. His hands ached to slide over her once more and feel the satin warmth of her skin.

Focus. He had to focus on Elina.

But thoughts of Elina were dark and painful. The sight of his Adreeahbenwah eased his pain and washed away his grief. He could stare at her all day, watching her move through the kitchen, doing mystical things with her technology that ended in fragrant plates of food.

Toren’s appetite had been overwhelming today, and without aid of his magic, he was helpless to provide for himself. He had not wanted to request more of her than he already had, but she had known about his hunger without him speaking a word. It was as if part of her was already tied to him even without any bindings or ceremony.

Perhaps none was needed here. Maybe Obliterra was not as empty of magic as his kind thought—they simply did not understand the magic that dwelt here.

Adreeahbenwah was proof that magic existed in a place it should not.

The tool in his hands slipped free and clattered on the boards beneath his feet. She looked up at him, offering him a sweet smile through the window.

The air in Toren’s lungs stilled. His entire body settled into a peaceful quiet as a stark realization set in.

He was beginning to love her. Without any kind of magic to speed the process or drive doubts away. Her goodness drew him in and cradled him close. It filled him with a sense of contentment and peace every time he saw that she was happy.

The thought of not seeing her again stretched out like a desolate wasteland in front of him, bleak and scoured with loneliness. He was not sure he could trek through that for the rest of his life. Or more accurately, he was not sure he wanted to.

But his obligations to his family and his homeland had to come before his own personal desires. Only he knew of Grynar’s treachery and could prove his guilt. Once Toren was back on Sorsca, he would bring that proof before the council and force them to inflict justice upon his sister’s killer. They would send Grynar to Obliterra for his crime, and he would live here, powerless and stripped of memories of his life for the rest of his days.

That thought gave Toren pause. What if Grynar found Adreeahbenwah or some other fragile human? If he was capable of killing his own gentle wife, then what evil would he do to those living here?

Toren was not a stranger to killing. He had fought for his homeland countless times, defending it from invaders and predators. Ridding both Sorsca and Earth of Grynar’s evil seemed the patriotic thing to do. If killing Grynar meant forfeiting Toren’s life, then so be it. Elina’s murder would not go unanswered, nor would he allow Grynar to hurt innocent humans.

Adria pushed through the door with two plates in her hands. One held some kind of smoky meat, and the other flat, breadlike discs. She set them down on a nearby chair. “How goes the gadget?”

There were shadows beneath her eyes that had not been there when they had first met. He wiped his hands on his pants and slid his thumb along one of her bruises. “What caused this shadow? Are you ill?”

“No, just tired. Don’t you guys get dark circles when you’re tired?”

He shook his head. “Our power will falter and our hair becomes still.”

She gripped a lock of hair between her fingers. It twirled its way around her hand and pulled her close. “I’ll never get used to that,” she said.

“You should rest if you are tired.”

“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you getting this thing done in time.”

“It is nearly complete.”

“I feel like I’ve found everything you need. Is that true?”

“Yes. Once the strands of copper you brought me are in place, the construction will be done. All that is left is activation, which will require water and a growing thing. We are surrounded by those. I will pluck one from the soil when the time to leave arrives.”

Her body felt good pressed against his. She fit his frame, molding to his contours so easily he could almost convince himself that she’d been made for that purpose alone.

His device was nearly done. If his work was true, then a doorway home would open and he would walk through it.

Never to see Adreeahbenwah again.

She stared up at him, her dark eyes tugging at him. He tried to remind himself that the depth of the color was natural for her and had nothing to do with desire. Still, there was some instinct within him that rose up in answer to a perceived need, just as it would with a mate he had claimed as his own.

“You should eat while the food is still warm,” she said.

He was more hungry for her than he was for food. Only the knowledge that she had worked to provide for him drove him to accept her offer.

Toren released her and carried the food inside to where the chill would not reach her. He sat on the floor near the fire. She did not join him, but perched on the edge of the couch, her body tense, her expression uncertain.

“When will you leave?” she asked. There was an odd quality to her voice—a false brightness she used to cover something deeper.

“After we eat.”

She descended into silence, toying with her food, but never bringing any to her lips.

“Are you not hungry?” he asked.

“Not really.” Her voice shook, but she cleared her throat before continuing in a stronger tone. “I’ll go get that water you need and meet you outside. The sooner you go home, the better, right?”

She did not wait for his response before she hurried away.

Adreeahbenwah was right. The sooner he returned home, the better it was for his family. There was no reason to postpone the inevitable. Leaving her would only become more painful the longer he stayed.

Toren found her staring out at the dark lake behind the cabin. The sun had set, and beautiful, rich reds and oranges in the sky cast a warm shimmer over the water.

He wanted to touch her, but that act would have been selfish—meant to appease his need to feel her skin under his hand one more time.

Instead, he went into the surrounding land and found a small, newly sprouted plant. Not much was growing as winter approached, but this single green spike seemed determined to make an appearance.

He set the little growing thing, roots and all, inside the wooden bowl at the top of his structure. It was not nearly as elegant as his mother’s work, but he felt the power inherent in its form. While he was better in battle, as his father had been, he hoped that some of his mother’s skill with building had flowed into him.

Adreeahbenwah watched as he poured water into the center bowl. If his design worked, then the water would spin the blades he had formed from the thin sheets of metal, sparking the device to activate and open a rift to his world.

“Stand back,” he said, looking at her one last time.

Her dark eyes were dry, her spine straight. The soft line of her lips was pressed tight as if to keep herself from speaking.

He did not want to leave her. Even considering such a thing was painful.

Which could only mean one thing: Toren had grown to love her.

He felt the power of that knowledge flow though him, shaking him all the way to his foundation. Loving a human should have been impossible. She lacked the magic to tie her to him. But she did not lack the power.

Whatever Adreeahbenwah lacked, she was far stronger than he could have imagined. Even hindered by her home world, she still managed to weave herself into his being, binding them together. He hadn’t felt it happen. He hadn’t even realized it was possible. But she was there, lingering within him, as strong and steady and as much a part of him as the beat of his own heart.

He wanted to bring her home with him and fit her into his life the way she fit so perfectly against his body. But that could not be. She was too fragile to survive in his world. Without magic, she would be in constant peril. She would be an outcast. Helpless. He’d touched her mind deeply enough to know how much that would upset her. His Adreeahbenwah was too independent to ever want to lean on another for survival. Doing so would destroy something precious inside of her.

Toren could not do that to her. He would rather suffer through his loneliness for her and know she was alive and well on Obliterra, than to sentence her to pain, fear and death on his world. He would take with him his memories of her, and hope that the pleasure they shared would lie warm in her thoughts—that she would remember him from time to time.

Once he was gone, at least she would finally find the rest and peace she so desperately needed. She would go back to her life as he would go back to his.

It was the only way. Toren accepted that even as it tore him apart from within.

The device began to spin and shake. He felt power accumulating, as if drawing in a deep breath.

“Be well,” he said. There was more he wanted to say, but he held the words back, knowing they would only cause her pain. His love for her was not a gift he could give her—it was a burden, another weight of grief he would put on her slender shoulders. Instead, he held in his feelings, content to take them with him as a secret, silent part of him.

The blades spun faster. The shaking increased until the wooden boards beneath his feet trembled with power. Sparks of light radiated out from the core, making the silver sigil glow bright.

Toren held his breath. A searing line of light began to split the air—the beginnings of a rift. He saw a brief flicker of his world—of the bloodstained floor where Elina’s body had lain. The narrow portal widened, revealing a sliver of Grynar’s surprised expression as he walked through his home.

His device was working.

Excitement and the thrill of battle bubbled beneath Toren’s skin. He had no weapons on him, but he would not need them to defeat Grynar—not with so much grief and determination to fuel his strength. His hands closed to fists and he tucked his chin down to charge the moment the doorway was wide enough for his shoulders to pass.

And then the water flowing out of the holes he’d carved into the wooden bowl ran out. The blades slowed. The line of light shivered and winked out, cutting off all signs of Sorsca.

His device had failed.

Disappointment and frustration dragged a rough growl from his chest. The urge to slam his fists into the device made his muscles clench, but he held back. He did not want her to witness such a childish torrent of emotion.

“What happened?” asked Adreeahbenwah.

“Your world has no power. That is what happened.”

“Would a bigger bowl help?”

“No. The bowl was not the failure. The design was true, but there is no way to draw power from a place where none grows. Your sun barely has even a trickle. Obliterra is a magical wasteland.”

“But you got close, right?”

“Close, but not nearly close enough.”

She laid her delicate hand on his arm, and all his anger simply trickled away. He could not be angry when she was so near—he could not take a chance that his anger would touch her in any way.