Chapter Four – Wren
Chapter Four
Wren
I arrive at the training facility at twenty minutes to eight, hoping I’ll have time alone to gather my thoughts before the symbiote shows up.
My stomach drops the second I push through the door and see him already waiting near the far wall, arms crossed, completely still. Like he’s been carved from stone.
I curse under my breath and force myself to keep walking forward instead of turning around and leaving, like every instinct is screaming at me to do.
I can’t run. The mission depends on this, and the Kyzer family won’t wait around forever to find a new chemist. They’re already looking.
I have to do this even if terror is crawling up my spine with every step I take toward him.
I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin, trying to project confidence I absolutely do not feel.
The training room is sparse, just padded mats covering most of the floor, a few weight racks against one wall, and fluorescent lights overhead that make everything look too sharp.
My footsteps are loud in the quiet space.
I stop a few feet away from him.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
Zeth studies me for a moment, those solid black eyes moving across my face like he’s trying to read me.
“If you’re ready... But we don’t have to do it today. We could use this session for hand-to-hand combat training instead. I could see what you know, how you move. We can learn about each other before merging. It might make the actual merge easier.”
Relief floods through me so fast it makes me lightheaded. I don’t have to merge with him tonight. I can put this off, give myself more time to prepare, more time to build up the courage to let him inside my head.
Then I mentally slap myself because… what’s the point? Delaying the inevitable just gives me more time to panic, more time to imagine all the ways this could go wrong. Today is as good as any other day. Better to get it over with.
“We should merge now,” I say, keeping my voice firm and squeezing my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “Do a test run. See how it feels.”
He watches me for another beat, and I wonder what he sees on my face despite my best efforts to keep my expression neutral.
“Okay,” he finally says.
He extends his hand toward me with his index finger pointed in my direction. It’s the same gesture from earlier in the conference room, and I freeze looking at his hand the exact same way I did then.
Guilt washes over me. I looked like a complete idiot earlier, when I refused to shake his hand, like he had some disease I might catch from touching him. I was too afraid to touch him, and now I’m so ashamed that I want the floor to open and swallow me.
Zeth senses my hesitation.
“Don’t worry. I won’t merge with you just because we touch. You can touch my hand, and unless you give consent, nothing will happen. I need your permission.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “About earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I hope you weren’t offended when I didn’t shake your hand. I’ve never met a symbiote before. I know about your species theoretically, but I have no real experience with people like you.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “I wasn’t offended. I understand your hesitation.” He pauses. “I will never do anything you don’t consent to first.”
I take a deep breath and straighten my spine, then extend my own hand toward his. My hand trembles slightly, but I don’t pull back. I watch my fingers move closer to his charcoal-gray skin, until our fingertips make contact.
His skin is warm and smooth against mine. Not cold or slimy like some irrational part of me feared. Just warm skin, human temperature, pressed against my fingertips. We look into each other’s eyes, and his black pupils are impossible to read.
“Will you allow me to enter you?” he asks.
Heat floods my face immediately, spreading from my cheeks down my neck. My pulse jumps in my throat. I realize he has no idea how that sounded. His expression is completely innocent and professional, so I swallow hard and force myself to answer.
“Yes.”
His hand starts to change against mine. It feels like his skin is melting into mine, but not in a wet sort of way, more like two liquids blending together at a molecular level.
My eyes widen as I watch my own arm turn black, his charcoal-gray color spreading up from our joined hands and creeping up my wrist and forearm like ink spreading through water.
Then the black fades and my skin returns to its normal color, but I can feel him inside now.
His essence is right under my skin. I can feel him in my muscles, wrapped around my bones like a second skeleton, spread through the meat of my arm. It’s not painful. It actually feels good in a strange way, like my arm is stronger and more alive, and more present than it’s ever been.
The sensation is intoxicating, like being truly entered. Not sexual, but somehow more than sexual, more intimate than sex has ever been with anyone. He’s inside my body, part of my physical self, and the boundary between us is dissolving.
Zeth takes a step toward me, and his whole arm merges into mine, his shoulder pressing against mine, but also inside my shoulder, and I gasp out loud because I start feeling him deeper than just my physical body.
Not only in my muscles and bones anymore, I feel him in my chest, in my lungs when I breathe, and in my heartbeat.
My heart picks up speed and hammers against my ribs.
Adrenaline floods my system, and I feel like I’m breaking into a fever.
I realize he’s connecting to my nervous system. I can feel him threading through nerves, spreading like roots, and every nerve ending suddenly becomes more sensitive. I can feel my own heartbeat in my fingertips, and blood rushing through veins. Everything is amplified and heightened.
I look up at his face. He’s close now, so close. His brows are furrowed in concentration, and his black eyes are focused on something internal, probably feeling the connection forming. His jaw is tight. Looking at him this close makes something twist in my stomach.
A thought strikes me unbidden: this is so intimate. My core tightens in response, and heat pools low in my belly. My panties become wet. I’m horrified by my body’s reaction and try to push the thought away, but it’s too late. He’s inside my nervous system now. He felt that.
I see the exact moment he catches the thought. His hairless eyebrows shoot up, and his black eyes go wide with shock. He stares at me like he can’t believe what he just felt, mouth opening slightly, frozen in surprise.
I immediately yank my arm free and stumble backward, nearly losing my balance.
Zeth’s arm slips out of me like pulling a hand from water – a strange, sliding sensation as he exits my body that leaves me feeling empty and cold.
I press my hand to my chest and can still feel the echo of him inside me, a ghost sensation of his presence that makes my skin prickle.
I look away from him. I try to control my shallow breathing.
My face is burning with humiliation. It wasn’t fair to him to sense my arousal like that.
I’m ashamed that I can’t seem to keep my body in check.
This should have been a simple merge – professional and clinical – and instead, I practically attacked his senses with my unexpected reaction.
He’s probably feeling uncomfortable now, disgusted maybe, wondering what kind of person gets turned on by something like this.
“It’s too much,” I say, and my voice is shaking now. “I can’t do it. This is impossible. I can’t let you inside me like that. It’s unnatural. Not something I can handle.”
I turn toward the door because I need to get out of this room, away from him, away from what just happened.
“I’ll speak to Holt,” I throw over my shoulder. “Find another solution.”
I manage three steps before his hand closes around my wrist and stops me in my tracks. I freeze and stare down, expecting his skin to melt into mine again, expecting him to slip inside, but his hand stays solid.
“I understand,” he says, and his voice is gentle and patient. “I know how hard this is. But it will get easier. It’s always a shock at first. Hosts adapt on the second or third try.”
His thumb rubs a small circle on the inside of my wrist, and he probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it.
I find it hard to form words, because his skin on mine feels like it’s burning me, that fire spreading up my arm and through my shoulder, and down into my chest. It makes my heart race again and makes breathing difficult.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t do it.”
I hate how weak I sound, hate that I’m failing before the mission has even started.
“I understand,” Zeth says again. “I won’t push you. Clearly, it’s too soon.” He pauses. “But will you stay? We can train in hand-to-hand combat instead. Skip the merging for now.”
I hesitate, because I don’t know what to do. On one hand, I can’t merge with him. I can’t stand the idea that he’ll feel everything I feel. He just felt my arousal, and that’s mortifying enough for one night. What else will he feel if we merge completely?
But on the other hand, I know what Captain Holt will say. It’s imperative I work with Zeth or the mission is off. I’ve already spent months preparing. I can’t walk away now.
I take a deep breath and nod slowly.
“Okay,” I say, and my voice is steadier now. “But take it easy on me.”
He lets go of my hand and puts some blessed distance between us.
His massive frame towers over me, with broad shoulders and muscled arms. He’s made of adaptive organic matter that can reshape itself however he wants. He could probably grow four arms if he wanted to, could harden his skin into armor, could crush me without even trying.
I shake my head at the absurdity of what I’m about to do and take a defensive stance anyway. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, hands up to protect my face. Ready even though I know I’m outmatched.
Zeth looks at me. The silver markings on his skin pulse slightly, growing just a shade brighter. His shoulders roll back, and muscles shift under his skin.
“You want me to take it easy?” he asks, and there’s the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “All right.”
He takes his own fighting stance.
“But I think you can handle more than you believe.”