Did that mean that she would now live for thousands of years? She couldn’t begin to comprehend that length of time. She was only twenty-one now, and even thirty seemed far away. A thousand years? It was like something out of a fairy tale. Never aging, never getting sick . . . He was right; it was every human’s dream come true. It was her dream come true.
But the way he’d done it . . . Mia stared at her palms, where she still had tracking devices implanted from the time he’d shined her. Why had she been so surprised that he would do something else to her? He obviously regarded her as “his” – his charl, his to do with as he pleased. Yes, he’d given her an impossible, priceless gift, but he had also taken from her any semblance of an illusion about the true nature of their relationship. He wasn’t her boyfriend or her lover; he was her master. She didn’t have any say when it came to her own body, her own life, and he clearly saw nothing wrong with doing whatever he wanted to her.
For the past couple of weeks, she’d lived in a dream world, reveling in being with him, in the phenomenal opportunity he’d given her, in the way he’d interacted so well with her family . . . And all this time, she hadn’t known that he had fundamentally changed her, that she was no longer the same Mia she had always been.
Immortality. It seemed so crazy, so impossible . . . For millennia, people had searched for that elusive fountain of youth, and yet the Ks had had it all along. A shiver ran through her as she fully understood what that meant: the Krinar had the power to indefinitely extend human lifespan, and they chose not to.
The non-interference mandate.
That had to be the only explanation. The Krinar had created her kind, and they continued playing God with them. Humans were nothing more than an experiment to them, and Mia realized how foolish she’d been to hope that Korum would ever see her as an equal. He might love her in his own way, but he didn’t see her as a person, as someone who had the same basic rights as he did. How could he when his species regarded humans as nothing more than their creations, the result of their grand evolutionary design?
The car pulled into the driveway, and Mia got out as soon as it stopped, rushing into the house. She couldn’t look at Korum right now, couldn’t talk about this rationally. Not yet, not until she’d had a chance to digest this further.
To her relief, he didn’t follow her, giving her some much needed space.
She ran upstairs and locked herself in one of the guest bedrooms. The lock was beyond flimsy, of course; it probably wouldn’t deter a human man, much less a Krinar. But it still made her feel a tiny bit better, having that barrier between them.
Sitting down on the bed, Mia looked down at her hands, clenched so tightly on her lap. On her right thumb, there had always been a tiny scar; she’d cut herself with a kitchen knife when she was seven, trying to peel an apple. The scar was now gone. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?
Getting up, she walked over to the large mirror hanging on the wall near the entrance. The image reflecting back at her looked remarkably normal. Same pale face, same unruly dark curls. Yet upon closer inspection, she could see the subtle differences. Her skin, usually lightly freckled, was completely smooth and white, without even a hint of any blemish. The minor sun damage she’d accumulated in her twenty-one years seemed to have disappeared. Her hair looked healthier as well, without any split ends – yet she hadn’t seen the inside of a salon in over six months.
Lifting her arm, she flexed it slightly, watching the small muscle moving beneath her skin. Even her body had changed slightly; she’d always been thin, but now she looked a little more toned, as though she’d been exercising regularly. She remembered how she’d been able to swim for an hour, how she’d fought Leslie and won . . . It appeared that improved fitness was one of the benefits of this procedure.
No wonder Ellet had seemed so familiar to her. Mia recalled the dream she’d had when she first arrived in Lenkarda – a dream where a beautiful woman was touching her with her elegant fingers. Ellet. It had been Ellet. Korum had brought Mia to her lab for the procedure, and Mia must’ve been semi-awake for at least part of it.
Walking back to the bed, Mia lay down and curled up into a little ball, bringing her knees to her chest. She felt nauseous, and she knew that it was all in her head. She couldn’t get sick now; it was a physical impossibility. But the unpleasant sensation in her stomach lingered, her insides twisting as she imagined Korum drugging her and bringing her to his former lover. She pictured Ellet performing the procedure on her unconscious body and shuddered.
How could he have done this to her? How could he have given her something so precious, something she hadn’t even dared to hope for, while at the same time destroying her trust? And how could she be with someone who could do something like that, who could completely disregard her will?
Yet how could she not?
Mia tried to imagine a future without Korum, and the years stretched in front of her, grey and empty. If she’d never met him – if she’d never experienced his passion, his caring – she would’ve been content, but now . . . Now he was as necessary to her as air. Even though they’d only been separated for a few minutes, she felt his absence so acutely it was as if a part of her was missing. If he ever left her, she wouldn’t be just devastated; she would simply cease to exist, to function as a person. She would be nothing more than a broken empty shell, a m
ere shadow of her former self.
Was that how he felt about her too?
Tears burned in her eyes at the thought. Was that why he’d done this, because he couldn’t wait, couldn’t bear the possibility of any harm befalling her if he delayed the procedure by even a couple of weeks? Had he taken away her freedom of choice because of the strength of his feelings for her?
She tried to imagine how she would’ve felt if someone she loved was weak and fragile, prone to illness and injury. Korum had always been so strong, so invulnerable; other than that time on the beach – and before, when she’d been working with the Resistance – she’d never really had to worry about his health and wellbeing.
But he worried about her constantly. She knew that.
He went out of his way to take care of her, to make sure she was warm and well-fed, to heal all her injuries, no matter how minor. Knowing how important school and career were to her, he hadn’t tried to limit her in that regard. Instead, he’d provided her with an incredible opportunity, giving her a chance to feel happy and fulfilled in that part of her life. He’d even made sure that her family was comfortable with their relationship. He’d given her everything – except the ability to make her own decisions.
No, she couldn’t imagine a life without him – and now she didn’t need to. For better or for worse, they could be together forever, and her foolish heart filled with joy at the thought. She didn’t know if she could forgive him for doing the procedure without her consent – not quite yet, at least – but she could try. She would have to try. She loved him too much not to.
After all, they now had centuries to figure it all out.
Chapter 24
Ten minutes later, Mia headed downstairs, ready to talk. She had a million questions for Korum, and she couldn’t wait to get the answers.
To her surprise, she found him standing in the living room, staring out the window at the ocean beyond. Hearing her footsteps, he turned around to face her, and Mia froze on the stairs, shocked by the remote look on his face.
His eyes seemed empty, as though he was looking straight through her, and the expression on his face was hard and shuttered, giving nothing away.
“Korum?” Mia was aware that her voice trembled slightly, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d seen him cold and mocking, she’d seen him angry and passionate, but she’d never seen him like this before. It was as though a stranger was looking at her right now, a stranger with the familiar features of the man she loved.