Jax broke with Robb’s lips long enough to say, “Is that a good enough answer?”

“But—my stars—you can’t—how can you—”

“Stop thinking, ma’alor.”

In reply, the Ironblood grinned—no, he smiled, which was very disconcerting because an Ironblood smiling never used to be a good omen—kissed him again, and pushed him back into the room. They stumbled all the way back to the bed, where Jax fell flat on his back, and the Ironblood bent over on top of him, pressing their lips together again.

Robb smelled like mechanical oil from his new arm and fresh linens because he always smelled fresh. There was never a moment when he didn’t. He was like a blouse fresh out of the wash, the rosemary scent lingering on his stubble, and Goddess, he wanted nothing else than to sink into Robb’s embrace and live there.

His fingers moved toward the buckle on Robb’s waist and began to undo it, when Robb grunted and stilled his hand.

“Wait, wait.” He paused, detached himself from Jax, took off a shoe, and threw it at the key lock. The door closed with a clink. “Now, where were we?”

“You were kissing me with both shoes on,” Jax reminded him.

“Ah, will one do?”

“One shoe? Ma’alor, you rogue.”

Robb grinned and kissed his neck, lips so light and feathery it made gooseflesh ripple across his skin. “I think I know what that means now.”

“Rogue?”

“No, ma’alor. It means ‘my heart,’ doesn’t it?”

Jax laughed. “Almost.” And then he smiled, so wide he couldn’t help himself. “It is closer to ‘my soul’—my other half. As though the stardust inside me, and the stardust inside you, were once one and the same.”

“Ma’alor,” Robb said, and Jax loved the way it sounded on his lips, slow and languid like a song.

“Can you say it again?”

“Ma’alor,” Robb purred into his neck, planting a kiss every time he said the words. Ma’alor, on the pulse on his throat. Ma’alor, the point of his jaw. Ma’alor, the crest of his cheekbone. The bridge of his nose. The center of his forehead—

Then his lips.

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes. “I never thought I’d have this,” he whispered.

“Have what?”

“You and me. I thought I’d . . . I always thought I’d . . .” And he couldn’t help that he was crying now. “I thought you’d never come back.”

Robb pushed a lock of his silver hair out of his face and kissed the tears off his cheeks. “A’ve nan amar, ma’alor.”

V

Stardust

Ana

Nevaeh stood against the darkness of space like a rosebud about to open. It hadn’t changed since she last saw it, a prison of folded metal, streets teeming with malcontents beside estates as large and grand as they were empty. It still smelled like a beggar who had put on too much rose cologne—heady and sweet at first, with an undeniable scent of rot underneath. From a distance, the city inside looked as though it was chiseled from silver itself, gleaming in the sunlight reflected down from the harbor above them. The last time she had visited Nevaeh, the Dossier had docked there, but now it orbited on the other side of Eros—empty and hidden.