After hopeless trial and error and a few more wasted deaths, Khan abandoned the purifier project. The tangy, almost acidic rain was all they could find to drink, after strenuously pouring and repouring it through the filters. Perhaps someday soon, they would create an engine capable of doing the work, deep down in the cool safety of the caves where sand and wind could not reach it. Even then, however, they would still be forced to waste time and energy collecting and transporting the rainwater down into the caverns.
But really, what choice did they have?
Khan leaned back tiredly against a large rock, watching as the Augments distribute food amongst themselves for their noonday meal. There was little talk. In the mornings and evenings, people were a little livelier…but now, in the grilling hot afternoon, there was a listless exhaustion settling down on everybody like a heavy, thick blanket.
He munched on his own portion; stored food, from space. It still tasted like what it was; protein bars, with just a hint of metal and sand in it. It was, actually, pretty good compared to the indigenous fare they had been painstakingly scraping together.
Animal species had, by this time, completely died out. Wastes and garbage were recycled into more food, but there was also a moss growing on the inside of the caves that might be part of their answer. However, it too was reliant on the dwindling supply of underground pools.
Khan swallowed a sigh along with the final mouthful of protein. Then he mentally winced as the shrill cries of two, angry boys broke the peace and quiet. "Give it to me!"
"Get off!"
"Give it to me NOW!"
"NO!"
Khan threw the trash down on the sand beside him and stood up, stalking towards the disturbance. Sensing the change of mood in his ever-expressive aura, the Augments swerved away from him like ripples of water flowed around a ship.
The two boys, aged nine and ten, were slugging each other and tearing a silver-papered nutrient bar apart between themselves, spilling crumbles of it into the dust. Khan bent down and grabbed them both by the collar, yanking them up as if they weighed no more than kittens.
Both boys went absolutely limp, suspended, staring with nothing short of terror at Khan Noonien Singh, the leader they had always feared and obeyed, never even spoken to…far less been this close while being chastised. Khan set them down roughly on their feet, his brown eyes bright with righteous anger. "If we fight, we will all die!"
"We are all going to die anyway."
Khan stiffened at the small, thin voice. He wheeled around in time to see Teresa shushing her little girl. He stalked towards them both, ignoring Teresa's protective stance. He knew she'd protest, maybe even challenge him if he tried to touch the child, but it didn't matter. He didn't intend to hurt her. To engage in petty squabbles was a crime to be punished. To be without hope, especially in one so young, was a wound to be healed.
The little girl's thick black hair was tied tightly back, exposing her grey eyes that glinted at him without fear. She was not intimidated. He smiled, admiring the courage that had been lacking in the two miscreants behind him. He crouched down on eye level with her, speaking as if she was a fellow adult he was informing, not a child he was comforting. "We will survive, young one. Never doubt it."
He cupped her chin in his hand, willing her to believe it so the others could believe it…so he could believe it.
"We will survive."
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Finally, there came a day when Marla just could not stand it anymore. She was tired of beating her fists against a rock wall, tired of trying to make Khan see her as more than just his wife, see her as the person she was. She was tired of trying to explain true love to him. But most of all, she was tired of waiting, constantly getting her hopes crushed as he turned his handsome, striking face away from her, hiding the heart she wasn't even sure existed. She was tired of trying to find that heart. She was tired of it all.
And when Khan cut the rations again, including babies and children, then had the gall to accuse her of weakness because she protested…she broke. She screamed at him, she ran away, ran into the dessert without a clue where she was going. She just wanted to get away from the dust, the sand, the heat, the hell…but most of all, from him.
If I just keep running…blood ringing in my ears…just over the horizon…breath whistling down my dry throat…maybe I'll see green grass. Maybe I'll see my home in Wisconsin…burning lungs…maybe I'll see my mother and father…the only people who ever loved me.
Maybe I'll find home…but Joachim…but home…Khan…
Curse it all. She was too weak to leave them, too weak to run any farther. She sunk into the burning sands, sobbing, heaving, hands scraping as she gathered up handfuls of it, as if she would dig herself a tunnel out of all this misery. But she couldn't. She had chosen to serve in hell by the side of its master. And now she had her son to think of. The very thing she had thought would bind Khan closer to her…instead, it had chained her to him, forever to this dead planet, forever to this pale imitation of life.
She breathed in sand and began coughing violently, rolling onto her back and holding her chest as pain tightened in her neck, and blasting white sunlight pierced through her closed eyelids.
Suddenly, her face was shaded. Large hands lifted her out of the dust and worked her shoulders, making it easier to breathe and cough. "Marla! By all the gods…Marla!"
She stiffened and suddenly threw herself out of his grasp. On all fours, she coughed out the rest of the sand. Then she rolled over and sat down, facing him. She saw the confusion on his face, the worry…but she also saw the irritation. She knew his thoughts perfectly, as if he had spoken them aloud. What is my silly little wife doing now? She is so much trouble, so irritating! A fragile burden…pretty enough, but why do I keep her?
Why, indeed? "This can not go on, Marla." He said quietly, his face stern.
She fought down the urge to laugh; she must not lose control now. She was quite probably going mad. "Just remember, Khan," she spat the name, "you didn't force me to follow you down here. I came because I wanted to.
Khan raised his eyebrows, not entirely sure where this was coming from, nor entirely eager to know where it was leading. "You would have faced a court-martial."
"After risking my life to return to the other side and eradicate you and your pirates!? I don't think so! Discharge, I think, would be the worst. You," her eyes widened with sudden realization, than narrowed with just as sudden anger, "you dare suggest I came with you out of cowardice! That I wanted to live here and be hungry and bruised by animals and beaten down by the elements?! You think I want to look like this?!" She gestured at her face, still beautiful and finely featured, but completely bereft of makeup, tanned by the sun, with a texture like soft leather; scars from sharp bits of sand crisscrossed her face and neck, and her cheeks were slightly gaunt.
Her blue eyes were wet with tears of disappointed rage.
Khan stared at her, seeing the entire problem from an angle he had never fully considered before; hers. She had married him, true. She had come with him, giving herself freely. She could have, she should have been a princess! Instead she was doomed to this…all this…that no one, not even an Augment, should have to suffer. Why had she done all this? She was obviously unhappy with him…why, although the thought made him sick with fear…did she even stay? "Why…why did you come then, Marla?"
He said her name. She screamed back, eyes flowing with tears, hands clenched in her rags, leaning towards him with so much fire that he felt, should they touch, he would be burned. "I came…because I loved you!"
The love that passed beyond beauty, beyond fear and shame. The love that was endless and complete, giving all and asking nothing in return…Marla's love. This was what she gave him. This was what he could not understand. This love gave her strength.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Marla cut him off, speaking rapidly, "I still love you! I've sentenced myself to eternal exile among an alien people in a ruined wasteland because I love you, Khan Noonien Singh! You arrogant, stupid, stupid man! All you can think about is conquest, revenge, survival…did you ever love me?! Did you ever see beyond my doglike longing for you?! I was a fool, but at least I was honest! You used me…you used me…I knew it, and I still came! And this, this is my reward! A dead existence with the man I love, who sees through me like air! Like thin air!" Then, before Khan knew it, she had slapped him squarely across the face.
He was shocked. His pride roared at the offence, even as his mind reeled from the knowledge. Not knowing which to obey, he grabbed her by the arms and yanked her to her feet, standing close to her, staring at her like some wild, rare creature he had caught.
Even as she struggled against his iron grip, her hand rose again, aiming for his face. He caught her by the wrist. It was too hard, and he could see it through the pain in her suddenly drawn face. Ever so slightly, he relaxed his hold. He was uncertain what to say, what to do, and that irritated him. He was out of control against this whirlwind…he could break her, but he would never defeat her through sheer force. He would not force her.
He couldn't.
He formed his words with difficulty, trying to calm her down. "It would be better if you allowed me to respond….before you began hitting me."
Her adrenalin draining once more, Marla was shaking. And rightly so; she had seen him kill at least three rebel Augments with his bare hands. But she wouldn't back down. She looked up again, narrowing her eyes at him with the beginnings of what Khan realized…was hatred.
Hatred. Hatred in the eyes of Marla, his Marla.
Khan's face creased with the concern; with the denial, the loss he was feeling. Mutely, he shook his head, one hand flying to the side of her face in a thoughtless attempt to show her love, to beg her not to hate him…Marla jerked her face away, curtaining it with red hair. Khan swallowed. He let go of her hands and grabbed her face, opening his mouth to speak…
Marla screamed in his face, startling him. Her eyes now terrified, she wrapped her arms around him, slamming her body into his. Hands grabbing wildly as he went down, Khan's body thudded into an undignified heap on the sand with Marla on top of him. His head bounced off an out jutting rock. He was out cold.
A spear hit the ground with a muffled womp, cold steel easily biting through the dust. Marla struggled up, yanking her hands out from under Khan's limp, heavy body. She ran forward instinctively, pouncing at the spear, ripping it out, turning…
And saw Marie, the dark haired, blue eyed Augment, rushing towards her. Her face was like a tigress', grim with the unchangeable intention to kill. There was death in her eyes, like hostile electricity, like a knife already plunging into Marla's heart.
She took a step back, startled and afraid, the spear loose in her hands. But then she saw that Marie was no longer looking at her; she was looking at Khan, helplessly stretched out on the sand with his dark face turned up to the sky, eyes closed, black hair tangled around his head. Marie was swooping in like a falcon for the kill, already pulling a sharp knife out of her belt.
Marla rushed forward clumsily, nearly tripping over Khan as she leapt over him and, swinging the spear like a baseball club, caught Marie a blow on the head with a resounding crack.
Marie stumbled back, hand to her head. Her blue eyes refocused on Marla as the pain faded. Her beautiful lips curled in a snarl, "back away, McGivers…this has nothing to do with you! Let me finish what I have begun, and you will be free."
"I can't let you do that," Marla replied, trying to look competent as she dug her feet into the ground, far apart from each other. She kept glancing at the other woman's muscles, straining her eyes for the slightest movements that could indicate her next attack.
Marie laughed. It was completely sincere, bubbling out of her throat and echoing in clear peals of amusement. "You! You cannot let me…ha! You can barely hold that spear straight. I have been fighting since I was a small girl…when was the last time you won a victory?!"
"I punched out a bully in Tener's High," Marla growled back, "When was the last time you murdered someone while they were unconscious? What a great victory! Truly, your bravery astonishes me!"
Marie's face darkened, the laughter out like a drenched flame. "This is not murder. This is culling. Diego shall be the next ruler of the Augments…maybe I will, if he does not do as I say. Unlike my husband, Khan was a man I could respect; yet he rejected me. I would have served him quite willingly, but he preferred your whining weaknesses. I will, therefore, take the leadership for myself."
Marla spoke through clenched teeth, but her eyes were wide as she glanced at Khan, wishing he would wake up. "You're not going to kill him!"
Marie lunged forward the minute her eyes were averted. Knowing she had to keep her away from Khan, Marla charged to meet her, shattering the air with a ridiculously high scream of more terror than rage. She pointed her spear at Marie's belly and lunged.
Marie easily dodged it. Swift, strong hands snatched the spear handle and butted it into Marla's head. A knee hit her in the stomach, winding her, and one more kick to the legs laid her out on the ground.
Marie was on her instantly, slapping her hands aside as she straddled her, bringing the knife up. "This, this was not my purpose…" she gazed at Marla's red hair and blue eyes, the eyes that had won Khan Noonien Singh. A demonic grin of pure jealousy and hatred lit up her features, "but this, I will enjoy!"
She plunged the knife down. Marla screamed with pain, nearly biting off her tongue as skin, muscle, and flesh separated, and the metal shard pierced into her softest innards. Warm blood soaked her clothes, moistening her dry fingers as she clutched convulsively at the handle, almost pushing it farther in as she threw her head back with a violent moan.
Hand still loose on the pommel, Marie leaned her face into Marla's, her breath unbearably hot and suffocating. "He never really wanted you, you know…he told me so himself. Honor is all that is keeps him bound to you. How could you want him? Why are you dying for him?!"
Marla didn't answer for a minute; weakly, feebly, she pulled one leg up. Then, with a sudden burst of strength that seemed to tear her wound even farther open, she heaved upwards, unseating Marie, who saved herself from a fall by leaping to her feet and stumbling away.
Marla sat up, still holding onto the knife. With a low, gurgling cry of pain, she yanked it out. Fresh blood streamed out in rapid gushes. She glared at Marie, her blue eyes burning with pain and desperation. Then, so quickly that her arm was only a blur, she threw the knife…
Straight into Marie's chest.
Marie stiffened. Without a sound except for a sort of horrified, airless gasp, she stared down at the pommel that had sprouted from her body. Then, she slowly sunk to her knees, hands working in the sand as she looked up again to gaze at Marla in wonder, unable to understand how this…this female…this mere human…had killed her, Marie, who had once been one of the ten great rulers of the world.
Marla struggled to her knees, on all fours, separated from Marie by only a four-foot stretch of sand. Blue eyes dull with pain met blue eyes dull with death, blinking like a confused infant who is seeing the light for the first time. Marie's body shuddered. Her lips motioned the silent question, why?
Marla wanted to say she didn't know. But she did. Even if the reason disgusted her, she knew why she would die for Khan. For that reason none of the Augments seemed to understand. "Because I love him."
So suddenly that Marla wasn't even sure she'd heard her, Marie tumbled face first into the dust. Slowly, a red pool spread out underneath her, soaking into the sand, clumping it together until it looked like ground up cherries.
Marla dragged herself over to Khan's still form, one hand pushing hard on the slit in her side, willing the blood to stay inside, to keep warmth and life in her limbs. She sat by his side, pausing, arching her back to draw in deep, painful breaths. After a minute, she wiped the sticky red liquid off her right hand, leaving maroon streaks on her clothes.
Then, she touched Khan's forehead, feeling the smooth, bronzed skin, running her fingers over the finely drawn black eyebrows, the eyes with their thick lashes, so thick that they almost made his eyes appear blue in certain lights. It was a beautiful yet strange effect, and she much preferred it when his eyes were wide open, bright and burning with golden-brown fire. The fire she had fallen in love with.
Her fingers, light and graceful, drew their lines down his chin, cupping it, giving it a little push, hoping to wake him up.
There was no movement. Marla was getting so tired. She blinked, dropping her hand in the dust and staring at it as if it was some dead scorpion she had discovered. So tired…blackness roaring at the edge of her vision, calling for her to just fall into it and sleep. The pain in her guts, she was sure, would simply fade away if she only listened.
Was this the end then, finally? Dying for Khan's sake, by Khan's side, in the desert? Was this finally her release? Was it…was it all over…?
"Marla." The croak interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head slightly, grateful for the growing shadows as she saw Khan's bright eyes of dusky fire staring at her in perplexity. "Did you…did you hit me?"
"No. The rock did." She really didn't have the breath to waste words with him.
"You…you didn't let me finish."
"Finish what? Marie's dead." Marla felt like this day would be her last; she wasn't very afraid anymore of what her words might bring.
"What?!" Khan sat up like an arrow, then instantly regretted it as his head screamed in pain. He grabbed at it, wincing against sunlight that seemed far too bright. Squinting, he saw Marie's body, face first in the sand, caked in blood. Not too far away was a spear, half buried. He turned, startled, to look at Marla, at the flush in her face, the wild dilation of her eyes. "Did you…did she…?!"
Marla rolled her eyes at his confusion. "Yes. She did. And just because I saved you doesn't mean I love you."
Khan was now not only confused, but panicked. He straightened and grabbed her arm. "Stop! Don't say that! What do you mean, saved me?! Why?!"
She reached forward, sealing his mouth shut with her dirty, wet hand. He flinched back in disgust, but she spoke right over him. "Shut up! Just shut up. Words, that's all that ever comes out of your mouth. Words all about yourself, words that hurt, words that wound. You never showed me any love at all, Khan. You love Joachim more than you love me. This is so freaking big…" she suddenly punched him in the chest, "what good is it if it's empty?!"
Things were happening too fast. Too strangely. The rug was being pulled out from under his feet. Marla was too angry to listen anymore, too furious to obey. He was going to lose her unless he spoke well, and now. She had saved him from Marie…yet she claimed she no longer loved him. What did she mean?! She was so strange, so confusing…"Marla, listen…"
"Too late, your Excellency," Marla laughed shortly, her hand suddenly grabbing at his, "I lied. I love you, but you never loved me back. Now, I'm dead. I'm dead and, heaven help me! I still love you." She pulled him into a sudden, ferocious kiss.
Khan closed his eyes, accepting this sudden show of love, welcoming it with an almost crippling feeling of relief. Because she still loved him. Marla rarely began their kisses. The alien she was hiding inside had been destroyed once more. Everything would be fine…wait, what does she mean, she is dead?
Instinctively, even as his mind questioned this, his hands crawled to her waist. As his fingers pressed against fabric, he felt the blood. With a startled cry he drew back, breaking the connection, staring at his hand as it glistened in the setting sun.
Marla sagged against him suddenly; hand on her side, a strange, otherworldly smile on her face. "Too late, far too late. If I'd known I was going to die…wouldn't have been so angry…Khan…forgive you…cause I love you…but you were such a pain…"
With a small, whispering sigh, her red hair stopped blowing back and forth in the weakening breath from her mouth. Her hand, clenched so tightly in the ragged, crimson material of his clothes, went limp and fell with a small thump into the dust. Then, staring beyond him at the burnt clouds in the dim sky, her eyes closed.
"No."
The word trembled out into the desert, bouncing against the rocks as night fell quickly, shadows lengthening.
"No."
It was repeated, shimmering out over the star studded horizon.
Khan pressed his hand to the wound, feeling panic rise as the blood kept pumping from between his fingers. No. She must not go. Not like this…oh gods…"Marla!"
She must come back. She had to come back. He was master of men, ruler of worlds…surely, he could will his wife to come back. He had to speak to her again, touch her…apologize…
He had to apologize. He had to thank her for all she had given him; love, family, life…he had to tell her he understood what she had tried for so long to tell him. He had to give her the love she deserved. New love, strange love….but he should have realized. He should have loved her.
He did love her.
One hand crawled through her hair, red hair, pulling it away from her face…a beautiful face, beautiful because he knew it better than his own, had seen it everyday…argued with it, smiled at it, kissed it…loved the soul that sang behind it. She was Marla, his Marla.
And now he realized, once she was lying almost dead in his arms, that in his world of pain and despair and suffering…she had become the very center of his universe.
Compassion makes you strong enough to help others.
He pulled her into his arms and stood, feeling how strangely light, almost ethereal, she felt. "Stay with me," he whispered in her ear, still pressing hard to the wound, as if he held her life in his hands.
It will bring hope.
He began moving, began running across the desert sand, able to stay upright even with her added weight because of the superior strength that raged in his body, fueled to even greater heights by his determination. He would get her back in time. He could not lose her. He would not lose her. He would do it because he had to.
And it will bring faith.
He would do it because he loved her.
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"Just because you saved me doesn't mean you love me."
She was cold. So cold. How could she be alive, safe and sound in their cargo bay…and still be this cold? Marla sat in the bed, hands clasped, head averted as she stared serenely out the door. Her clothes were lumpy around her stomach where, Khan knew, thick bandages were wrapped tightly around the gaping wound, keeping damaged, torn tissues together, sealing blood inside.
He felt bullied by this freezing tone…he was Khan Noonien Singh; he would not be bullied, even if she had been to the grave and back. With a growl of discontent, he stood up from his chair, slamming it against the wall as he crossed his arms and stared down at her.
She didn't flinch; he hadn't expected her to. "Of course I love you! Why would I save you if it was not so?!"
"Oh, I don't know…didn't want to lose your little toy…your trophy!" Marla mocked him.
Keep a hold on your anger…do not let the demons win… "You talk foolishly!" He snapped, feeling the bones pop in his knuckles as his hands clenched into fists.
"If I was crying, Khan…what would you do?"
Khan narrowed his eyes at her, seeing a surprise attack for what it was, "I would ask you what the matter was."
"What if nothing was the matter? What if I just felt sad?"
"You cannot just feel sad!" Khan growled, determined to keep his voice below a roar, "There is always a reason!"
"What if the reason hurts too much to say? What if I was crying for no reason that you could ever know…what would you do then?" Her blue eyes stared up at him with righteous rage, already knowing his answer before he spoke it.
"I would…" he couldn't believe the hesitation in his own voice, "I would try to discover the reason."
Marla closed her eyes as if a sudden pain had flared up in her head. She dropped her face, the fire gone again, just leaving her tired. "Couldn't you…" she whispered, so quietly that he barely heard her, "couldn't you just hug me? Couldn't you just tell me you were there, that you didn't care what was the matter…you only cared that I was crying?"
Khan stared at her. Slow, stupid realization was squeezing through his brain, ideas completely alien to him but simply seemed to make sense, to feel right. Ideas that he could not voice…but they only echoed the sentiments he had always felt for her…sentiments he used to consider superfluous and unimportant. Yet now, he realized it was, perhaps, the kind of love Marla spoke of. When he answered her, it was in almost as soft a whisper as hers. "I would care."
She smiled, but it was artificial, too tired of fighting to even recognize victory when she saw it, "would you?" Her tone made it clear; she didn't believe him.
He came forward almost impulsively, not wanting to understand the reason for the broken sadness…the despair stamped on her beautiful face…because to understand might be to acknowledge that he was the cause of it.
He sat beside her on the bed, careful to avoid jostling her wounded body. Then, he reached for her face, wanting to guide it toward his, to show her his love.
She jerked away violently. "Don't!" her voice was thick with tears. "You can't just kiss this problem away, Khan. You can't just give me gratification and passion…I need real love…and I'm not sure you can give it to me."
He dropped his hand, wishing she would look up so he could meet her gaze. "You think I do not know true love? You are right. I am an Augment, but I am also a fierce animal, a beast…a creature of pure passion and power. And someday, someday I will be dirt, and dust, a ghost wailing over the sands of this cursed world, a world I will never leave."
She met his gaze now, blue eyes under long lashes, interested in what he was saying, yet still ready to fight him tooth and nail to preserve her belief in a better way of life, still ready to fight to the bitter end to preserve her sense of self, to save her tender soul from the claws of Khan's bestial nature.
"I never…loved, not in the way you see it." He clenched his hands, trying to strengthen himself against the terrifying wave of emotion that was rising inside him, something he had always before scorned as weakness…it hurt to surrender to it, it hurt his pride. And yet it also felt good to suffer, to suffer as she must have suffered. "Until yesterday."
Now she glanced at him, startled, distrustful. He hurried on before she dismissed his words completely, "I do love you, Marla…I felt you on the Botany Bay, even before I was awake. And I…part of me…wanted to awaken only that I might see you, touch you, and take you for my own."
"And yesterday, when you collapsed into my arms and I felt your wound…when I realized…" the bloody memory flashed before his vision, and he convulsively reached out and touched her leg, just to make certain that she was truly here, that she wasn't lying dead in the desert, slowly sinking into the sand.
She did not pull away, but he didn't notice. "When I realized that I could, indeed, lose you…I realized that I do, really, love you. Even before I…" He had hurt her…he had broken her hand, dominated her through pain and the power of his words, the intoxication of his eyes. Guilt, disgust at what he had done, the crime…no, sin…he had so unthinkingly committed against her…burned in his stomach. But it was a good kind of burn, because it allowed him to hope, to hope that he could be the sort of person Marla would love, "Before I…used you, I loved you. And I will do so forever."
He loved her. Not because of her red hair, her blue eyes, or her sweet lips. He loved her fiery spirit, her unshakeable devotion, her acidic wit…he loved her for yelling at him, for bearing his son, for making his food, mending his clothes, for living with him every day…he loved her for forgiving him, for trying to teach him, for relying on him and trusting him and for not leaving him despite all the million and ten ways in which he had hurt her. He loved her because her name was Marla. He loved her because she was the greatest thing in his world, the only woman who would die for him…the only woman he would gladly die for.
"Forever, Marla," he coaxed breathlessly, leaning forward, staring into her eyes with a pleading look. "This new love of yours…you deserve no less from my hands. I wish to learn it. Will you…" pride roiled in his stomach, but he violently swallowed it back, "will you show me?"
Marla's blue eyes widened, when she spoke, her voice sounded airy, unused, unable to believe what was happening, "you…Khan, you….you're serious?"
"Always." He answered, "I want to love you perfectly, because you…you are perfect."
"Oh my dear God…" This exclamation to the heavens spun out into the air as Marla, seeking both spiritual and physical reassurance reached for his strong shoulders and pulled them towards her until she could hide her face in them. Startled, Khan stayed perfectly still, feeling her body heave with what he thought was a silent sob
But when she raised her head again, he could see she had been laughing. Her eyes were wet. "I'm too tired and too stupid to teach you right now, but this…" she touched his face, her small fingers exerting a slight command that he expertly obeyed, large hands gently bracing her waist, supporting her as she leaned forward, "…this is part of it." She ran one hand through his black hair, her face less than an inch from his as she breathed, "think of this as a promise…a promise forever."
Together, for once in perfect synchrony and consent, perfect agreement and peace of heart, perfect love…they kissed with a freedom, an invigorating joy that Khan had never felt before.