“I NEVER GOT TO SAY goodbye to him,” Reina whispered against his neck. She’d glanced up at Stoan for a second before clutching her arms around him and hanging on like he was the source of her anti grav.
Stoan rested one of his hands on her silky blonde hair and patted her gently. Her pain radiated off of her in waves and if the bond between them were complete, he would have been able to take some of this pain from her, to ease her burden.
He didn’t have the strength to deny the connection between them while she cried in his arms.
He knew that she’d lost her husband. In preparing for the mission to come, Stoan had become something of an expert in all things Reina Draven. Or at least in Reina Draven aged fifteen to twenty-eight. Nothing of her childhood existed in the Nina City records no
