Chapter 54
Cooperation and collaboration is the way forward.
Letting Wyn out of my arms, even two days later, seemed like an impossible feat.
Talvax hadn’t made a single remark about him, nor about me shirking my duties, which I hadn’t expected.
However, it wouldn’t have mattered even if she had.
Wyn was my sole focus, and he was still recovering from his ordeal; even Doctor Qinlin had said as much when she’d stopped by to inspect him.
She’d insisted Wyn not strain himself, and I aimed to keep him relaxed.
Wyn, being himself, had insisted on working, so he was reviewing the latest reports.
He’d commended Noxlyn’s summaries as well as his organization of everything.
I wasn’t sure if the quiet seeker would love or hate the praise, but I appreciated his work, because it was helping Wyn and the other seekers who were attempting to save the ship that I hoped to one day call mine.
But he had finally placed his screen down to turn his full attention to the gaggle flooding our quarters.
Seth had Wyn in a tight embrace while Urgg blubbered apologies, even though they looked rougher in appearance than Wyn.
As far as I was aware, Talvax and Urgg hadn’t made up yet, which had to be a strain on them both.
But no one was as stubborn as Talvax when she put her mind to something.
Bartholomew was standing back a bit, staring blankly at the huddle on the couch.
He moved even further away when Camden all but threw himself, rather dramatically, on top of them.
Kalvoxrencol started snarling when Seth winced, and Serlotminden was cackling away along with Camden and Urgg.
Noxlyn was as quiet as Bartholomew and soundlessly pulled Camden off everyone.
Vorjyn, who’d snuck in, came to my side. “They’re an odd bunch.”
I smiled, running my eyes over every single one of them. “They’re my family.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.” Even the pretty human I didn’t always like.
He clapped my shoulder. “I’m pleased for you.”
“You could join in,” I said. Vorjyn had only ever cared about me, though that might be too strong a word.
I truly didn’t know, even after all of these years.
I knew he held some kind of affection for me, or was at minimum amused by me enough to keep coming around.
Regardless, I was his friend, and I would continue to be his friend.
“I’m disgusted by the mere suggestion. Not for me.”
“What isn’t?” I asked.
He waved at the laughing people. “All of it. Friendship. Love.” A look of horror twisted his face. “I’ve never needed or wanted it.” A cool smirk took its place. “I much prefer battle and blood.”
I once heard the doctor on our first ship say Vorjyn was like the drakcol of old—craving blood and violence—but it was a polite way of saying he had psychopathic tendencies that mixed with homicidal urges in a catastrophic way.
No one truly knew what Vorjyn did on his so-called mercenary missions, and I doubted we ever would.
He wouldn’t remain within Coalition space no matter what, even for me, even when I worried.
No, he would flee as he always did, chasing the stars, money, and his need for violence.
Nothing would ever make him return home.
“You can have your fill of both, just not here,” I said.
Vorjyn shook his head. “I won’t do anything here. I’m behaving.” He held out his arms. “See? No blood.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you are.”
“I better leave before your little mate shreds me,” he whispered before slipping out.
With a frown, I turned to look; Wyn was indeed scowling at Vorjyn.
My tail flicked and my wings wiggled as I smiled.
I tried to contain it but couldn’t. Wyn’s obvious jealousy shouldn’t make happy, but it did.
It was claiming. Yes, he cared for me, but I worried he wouldn’t return that all-essential love and desire to remain with me for all time.
However, I was content to wait for as long as I had to.
“Is that a smile?” Kalvoxrencol said, handing me a laughing Bobbinvoxlyn.
I blinked. I had never held the kit, not once. I glanced at Seth and caught him looking at me and his son. He wasn’t upset, though. He just turned back to Wyn and Urgg. I said, “Should I not be smiling?”
“You should be, often, and yet you rarely do.”
“I’m happy,” I confessed.
Before Kalvoxrencol could say anything, my father’s link appeared on my screen. I accepted it without thought and his and Xapher’s voices boomed across the room at Wyn, who beamed.
“They’ve met him?” Kalvoxrencol asked.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Of course. My xapher and Wyn speak quite frequently.”
My youngest cousin gave me a sly grin, which looked nearly identical to my own. “Do you have news to share?”
“Not anything you or anyone else needs to know.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You don’t have to.” I headed toward Wyn, who instantly drew me closer with his tail. I squeezed in beside him, and the conversation continued to flow around us. In a low voice, I asked, “Are you well?”
“Yes, for the first time in a very long time, I feel very well.”
“I’m glad.”
Wyn smiled at me, and it was something soft and warm; the expression tore my soul out while simultaneously making it clench. He said, “I have you. I have my friends. I have your parents.” He shook his head, his braid hitting me. “I belong.”
“You do.” I pressed a lingering kiss on his forehead. Wyn belonged right here.
I remained tucked in Monqilcolnen’s arms as I worked on my screen.
We were in his office. Technically, he still had duties, but he’d blatantly refused to leave my side even though it had been almost two weeks since I’d returned to him.
I had weakly commented I could spend time with Seth, Urgg, Bartholomew, or Camden and Noxlyn, who I’d missed so much, but Monqilcolnen had been firm.
I was grateful, though. I didn’t want to leave him.
So now I sat in his lap while he worked at his desk.
It was not the most comfortable, but I needed physical reassurance from him.
Monqilcolnen rubbed his forehead against the back of my head before returning to going over reports.
The action made my pulse speed up, though I ignored the scent marking in case he wasn’t ready to discuss it.
Cincin had decided to come with us. She was currently napping on her tree in the corner, her legs folded under her plump body. I studied her, positive she was rounder than the last time I’d truly taken a moment to actually inspect her, which was before our separation.
“You overfed her, didn’t you?” I demanded.
“What, Peace?” he asked, voice distant.
“Cincin. You fed her too much.”
The utter silence behind me told me everything I needed to hear.
“Monqilcolnen,” I started.
He planted a kiss on my neck. “I missed you, and I was in no frame of mind to refuse her woeful demands.”
I laughed. “I shall have to be the authoritarian, then.”
“Yes.”
A weird pulse went through my gut. “What about children? Will I have to be the authoritarian then, as well?”
He paused, and I held my breath, tail strangling my ankle. It was far too soon to discuss children, but if he wanted them, I didn’t want to be the sole disciplinarian.
“Do you wish for children, Wyn?”
I squeezed my ankle, terrified he wouldn’t like my answer. No doubt sensing my stress, he rubbed my back.
“You do not have to tell me,” he commented.
“I don’t,” I forced out. I would have them if Monqilcolnen desired them, but I was content in my life and where I was.
I had also spent so much of my life surviving that I wanted to spend what remained for myself and with Monqilcolnen.
I didn’t want to share my time with him, even with our children.
Monqilcolnen held me tightly, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“When I was younger, I wanted children so badly, or I was convinced I did. But even before I became an adult, I realized I didn’t want them.
I feared my inner fire would sense something about one of them that would break me, like them not surviving to adulthood or something like that. ”
He shook his head. “I also do not wish for them to have my or my father’s inner fire. No. Some gifts do not need to be passed down to burden another generation.”
“I understand that, but you could always adopt a child.”
“I could,” he replied, brushing a hand down my back. “But I don’t want to be a father.”
I turned as much as I could in my position and asked, “You are not just saying that for me, are you?”
“No, Wyn. I have felt this way for a long time. If you desired children, I would have reevaluated my desires, but I’m not sure my opinion would have changed.”
“So just cats?” I asked, my voice a whisper as my soul throbbed. He was thinking of our forever. Monqilcolnen might not love me yet, but at least I was assured of his affections.
“Just cats and us.”
Warmth flooded me. It was a miracle I did not combust on his lap. Before I could turn and plant my lips on his, the chime to his office rang. I started to stand, but Monqilcolnen surrounded me, holding me in place.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I squeaked. I was more than fine with him claiming me so solidly in front of whomever stood on the other side of the door.
“Enter,” Monqilcolnen called, and the door slowly slid open jerkily.
It was NAID. Every process was being affected now.
I was fighting to preserve its most important systems while also trying to separate them from NAID and into independent control.
It was not working well. Our technology, like many others, was completely reliant on artificial intelligence.
Trying to extract some of the processes from NAID’s overwhelming control was proving to be impossible.