10. AHANE

”We”re stuck with each other.”

[STUCK: to attach together unintentionally, to be unable to move. When used, both meanings are typically implied. Negative connotation. Adverb variation is STICKY: inclined to adhere to surfaces, may be positive or negative depending on context. Not to be confused with the noun STICK. 1:1 translation of STICK available]

Had Chess told Keiron they were stuck together? Was this what their time on his small ship had been like? Ahane had never expected he”d be stuck with his own Human.

Although his situation was completely different.

Except what would happen if Thalia found her mate here?

Keiron didn”t believe it was purely by chance that he had crossed paths with Chess—he had modified his run slightly to take the extra load that had contained Chess. And it was not by chance Keiron had been able to find Chess and the Grey darksite. Yes, it had required his brother’s skill with beacons and trajectories, and contacts made and rumors overheard while doing hauls, but Keiron also had relied on instinct when making final decisions about where to go.

If Keiron was right—and his brother was the expert on these things—then Thalia”s mate, if they were in the Gestalt and not on Earth, would eventually arrive to claim her. He may not know that’s why he was there, or what waited for him, but he’d find out.

And no mate that ever found their way to this rock would ever protect Thalia the way Keiron had risked everything for Chess.

Even a cosmos-ordained, perfect mate could be rejected. It had happened before in Gestalt history, although it was rarely discussed. The cosmos did not appreciate defiance.

But for some, derangement and death were preferred outcomes. The rest were fools.

As long as Thalia didn’t meet her mate, it would never be realized or become real. And while the trinkets were instant and unmistakable, a Human-revealed bond wasn’t. With trinkets, the person who purchased the trinket knew. But the other person had no idea they’d been “chosen,” and for them, the bond didn’t exist.

So as long as Thalia never met her mate, or only met him in passing, and didn’t know anything about mates or trinkets, she could be spared whatever degenerate showed up for her.

Maybe he should be optimistic and hopeful that her “prince” would show up.

Something in the Human”s bright, intense gaze seemed to flicker. She”d caught his mental reaction. She muttered an apology while his brain tried to sort through the best course of action from here. Something had upset her. How did he avoid making it worse?

She was quite plain and had no scales or cues to tell him anything, but after her bath, she seemed exhausted and drained.

That bath had been too hot. She had been making strange noises in the bath as well. Sort of tormented gasps. Sobs, perhaps? It was so hard to tell. She made so many small noises, small gestures, even the rate of her breathing and the tilt of her chin and the position of her lips and the tension in her mandible seemed to have meanings he could not divine beyond there was a meaning there... and it eluded him.

Blast. He’d have to just ask. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I’m not good at talking to people.” The caustic and bitter tone stung his scales.

“The bed.”

“If you’d rather sleep on the floor, that’s fine. I don’t know what 25XAs prefer.”

They preferred beds. And he wanted to sleep next to her. Keep her safe. He did not believe those wounds on her flesh didn’t hide more wounds that would need minding.

The physical wounds had never been as severe as Ohade’s inner wounds.

He reached for his waistband and undid the top button. She did not acknowledge this beyond turning away into the blankets.

He stepped out of his pants—their clothing was filthy, he would have to do laundry—and left his undergarment on. The bed creaked under his weight but held, and he carefully maneuvered into position so that as little of his body touched hers in as modest a fashion as possible. She tucked onto her side, curled slightly, so that the length of her spine down to her rump tucked against his side.

It was not an unpleasant sensation at all. It was soft. And while her filthy shirt stank now that they were both washed, her salty scent was more intense and pure than ever. It was more intimate than he was prepared for. Her round ass was tucked right against his forearm, and his fingertips could touch the back of her thighs if he twitched his wrist.

He resisted the urge to move his wrist.

She shivered, and if he listened over the noise of the generators below them and the distant sound of the concourse, he heard her making noises that sounded like distress. Soft ones.

“I can go sleep elsewhere.” Although everything told him to stay with her.

“No,” she whispered, “stay… Please stay.”

Her whisper was raw and harsh, but so soft. “I will.”

He stared at the ceiling, counting her breaths for a long time until she finally fell asleep.