The light whispered underneath his skin, giving him glimpses of moments just past, and he couldn’t tune it out.

And Robb had returned.

He pulled his fingers through his braid to unravel it when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called, not thinking.

The door slid open, but he didn’t hear any footsteps come inside. A cold chill crept down his spine. He was unprotected in a waystation. Open, vulnerable. The reality of it came crashing down. He glanced over his shoulder—

The light whispered, Ma’alor.

Robb.

Jax quickly stood. “Um—aah—Robb. Hi.”

Hi? He had been a kiss away from professing his love on the dreadnought, and all he could say now was Hi?

Goddess, I used to be suave.

“Do you need something?” Jax asked, and mentally kicked himself again. Robb wouldn’t be here if he didn’t need something—

“I don’t care that you are the C’zar,” blurted Robb.

He blinked. “Um . . . all right . . .”

Robb added hurriedly, “I mean I do, but not in a bad way. I think it’s amazing that you are the C’zar, and I understand why you didn’t tell me. It’s hard to let someone see who you really are, because you’re afraid they won’t still love you.” He rubbed the back of his neck, standing in the doorway with his shirt buttoned low and the silver rings on his fingers glinting softly in the waystation halogens, and his hair wild from travel, and a red blush coming across his cheeks. And Jax wanted to take that memory and paint it in the stars. “But that . . . that’s not who I am. And if tomorrow’s our last day, I just want you to know—I want to be with you because you are you, not in spite of it. Um—A-A’ve nan amar,” he added quietly.

Jax’s eyes widened.

I love you.

In the Old Language.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Opened. His mind was as blank as this room was quiet, and he couldn’t for the life of him think up an answer in any language.

“Did—did I say it wrong? A’ve nan amar—”

In two steps, Jax reached out and took Robb by the face and crushed their lips together just to taste the Old Language on this insufferable boy’s tongue. And Goddess, did it taste sweet, like starshine and midnight winds and breathless climbs. The light whispered beneath his skin, bright and bouyant and—

And he didn’t see Robb’s stars.

The pull was there, just out of his reach, just far enough that if he wanted, he could take the tether and follow it up to his constellations, and watch Robb’s fate unravel in the stars, but he didn’t have to.

The light under his skin sighed and swayed, and he wanted to sob.

This was the gift Koren Vey had given him: the ability to control his curse.

Robb made a surprised noise, but then he melted into Jax, threading his fingers through his long silken hair.