17. Zyrus

17

ZYRUS

My mate was sated and sleeping, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. I watched her for several moments, memorizing the curve of her cheek and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her skin. Reluctantly, I slid out of bed, wincing as the mattress creaked slightly. I pulled on my clothes quickly but quietly, not wanting to disturb her rest. The urge to crawl back into bed and watch her sleep for hours, maybe even days, was almost overwhelming. Her presence calmed something deep within me.

But there was something I had to do, had to know. A nagging thought that wouldn't let me rest, even in this moment of contentment. It pulled at me, demanding action despite my desire to stay.

My body thrummed with renewed energy, every muscle primed and ready for action. There was no trace of the debilitating weakness that had overwhelmed me after our first kiss and coupling. That was a good sign, and I dared to hope—still an unfamiliar sensation—that it would last.

But hope wasn't enough. I needed certainty, cold hard facts to confirm what my instincts were telling me. The urgency of my mission pushed against the lingering warmth of our connection, demanding that I act now. I clenched my fists, steeling myself for what lay ahead. I needed to be absolutely sure.

It was only when I stood outside of Drex's door that I realized it was late. No one roamed the halls, and the lights were low to help simulate nighttime. Drex was likely sleeping beside his own mate; he wouldn't want to be disturbed. My questions could wait until morning.

But the door opened, and Drex stood there, his eyes alert despite the late hour. "I saw you on the view screen. Has something happened?" His voice was low, tinged with concern.

"Yes," I replied, suddenly aware of how much had transpired since we'd last spoken. I realized I hadn't told him about Yoree or my trip to the trash compactor. The weight of that information pressed on me. Drex wasn't my commanding officer, but it wasn't wise to keep such crucial details to myself. "May I come in?" I asked, glancing down the empty corridor.

He stepped aside to let me pass, his body tense. The room beyond was dimly lit, shadows clinging to the corners. "Is Astrid well?" Drex asked as soon as the door closed behind us, his worry evident in the tight set of his jaw.

"Yes, she's sleeping." Naked and satisfied. Mine.

There was an entertainment tablet on the low table and a blanket haphazardly piled to one side, as if hastily pushed away. Drex sat beside it, his posture suggesting he'd been there for quite some time. The faint glow from the tablet cast shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of fatigue around his eyes.

"This is a strange hour to be awake," I observed.

"I could say the same for you," Drex retorted, his tone equally hushed but tinged with a hint of dry humor. He picked up the tablet, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he flicked his hand to project the screen into the air between us. A message materialized, hovering in the dim light. It looked like some kind of shipping notification, the text crisp and official against the holographic background. "This showed up just before I was going to go to bed," he explained, his eyes never leaving the projected image.

I leaned in closer, squinting to make out the details of the holographic message. Parts of it appeared to be handwritten, a strange mix of digital precision and personal touch that caught my attention.

"Did you order something from …" I hesitated, deciphering the scrawled text. The characters seemed to dance in the dim light, challenging my vision. "... Honora Station?"

Drex's face tightened, a flicker of something—concern? anticipation? —passing over his features. "I did not."

With a practiced flick of his fingers, the image before us changed. Another message materialized, then vanished just as quickly. My eyes darted to keep up as he cycled through them rapidly, each one similar yet distinct.

"I've received five similar messages since I arrived on Nebula Outpost," Drex explained, his voice low and tinged with a hint of urgency that matched the tension I felt building in my own chest. "All of them roughly a week before a new soulless outcast showed up in a shipping container with a story of escaping an execution."

The implications of his words hit me like a physical blow. My mind raced, connecting dots I hadn't even realized existed. I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of this new information settle over me like a heavy cloak.

"Someone knows we're here." Of course someone knew we were here. How else would we have ended up together, a ragtag group of outcasts? My muscles tensed, readying for a fight that wasn't coming. "Do you think we're in danger?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon whatever threat loomed on the horizon.

Drex's eyes met mine, steady and calm despite the gravity of the situation. "Not from the Legion," he said, his tone reassuring but tinged with a hint of something else—anticipation, perhaps. "I think we're about to get a new soldier. They're in for a surprise." His gaze flicked towards the closed door to the bedroom where his denya was sleeping, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. I could almost feel the protective energy radiating from him, a fierce determination that matched my own growing resolve.

"It's been some time since anyone has joined us. Not since Jorin two years ago."

"Do you think something's changed in the Legion?" The Legion was a being of survival, the last vestige of a people that had been destroyed by an unknown enemy. Survival required change, but how much could the Legion change and still remain fundamentally Detyen?

"Something's changed with you," Drex said with a grin, his eyes glinting with a knowing look that made me shift uncomfortably. "Does it have something to do with the woman sleeping down the hall?"

My lip twitched, and I didn't understand why at first. A foreign sensation rippled through me, unfamiliar yet not unpleasant. And then I realized it was a smile. The muscles in my face felt unused, almost rusty. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Astrid has some concerns about how I've reacted when we … touch," I admitted, my voice low and hesitant.

Drex's eyebrows shot up, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "You passed out after a kiss?" he asked, leaning in closer as if we were sharing some great secret. The air between us seemed to crackle with an energy I couldn't quite name.

I felt heat rising to my cheeks, another unfamiliar sensation that left me feeling exposed. My hands clenched at my sides, seeking some form of control over these new, overwhelming feelings.

"Not just a kiss." Though I didn't want to go into minute details if it wasn't necessary.

"Congratulations to you, then. None of us know why it happens or what's happening, not really. But the same thing happened to me and to Ryklin. And ever since we completed the bond with our mates, we've been whole. No other symptoms. I don't think you have anything else to fear."

It was what I wanted to hear.

Now to convince my mate.