The sky is a violent crush of greens and pinks and purples, Minerva’s distant second sun jagging it all with reds and oranges. “It’s so beautiful,” I whisper. Kodiak presses against me, arms wrapping around my torso as he pulls me in tight. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being here with you. I am in awe of what we’re doing together. It’s terrifying and wonderful, all at the same time. But it’s ours. Not theirs. Ours.” I nod, grateful for the warmth of Kodiak’s body against my back, his arms holding me so near. Grateful for the simplicity of what he’s just said. We never watch the rest of the
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