Chapter Twenty-Six – Zeth
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zeth
I stand outside Wren’s apartment door for ten minutes, staring at the bouquet of red roses in my hand like they might suddenly transform into something less ridiculous.
The hallway is quiet except for the hum of someone’s television through a nearby wall, and I shift my weight from foot to foot, wondering what the hell I’m doing here.
The roses seem too small now that I’m looking at them, or maybe they’re too cliché and uninspired.
Does Wren even like flowers? I don’t know.
But then I think all women like flowers, don’t they?
And that just makes it worse because, of course, I’d go with the most predictable choice possible.
I’m overthinking this. I know I’m overthinking this, but I can’t stop myself.
I’m a naked symbiote with charcoal skin standing in a human apartment building with a bouquet of roses, about to knock on a woman’s door. The absurdity is overwhelming enough that I almost turn around and leave, but I know if I walk away now, I’ll just come back in five minutes.
The past week has been hell without her. Between the FBI debriefings, the hours of interrogation and the press conferences that seemed to go on forever, I barely saw Wren at all. She was lost in bureaucracy, too busy for anything more than quick text messages.
My boss at Monster Security Agency grilled me for hours too, wanting every detail of the mission, and by the time I was done talking to everyone who wanted a piece of the story, Wren and I had barely exchanged more than a few words.
The mission is over now. Technically, my job as her bodyguard is done.
I don’t even know her real name.
I don’t know who she is when she’s not working, I don’t know what she does on lazy Sunday mornings, or what kind of music she listens to.
We had sex, we were merged for weeks, I know the rhythm of her heartbeat, but I don’t actually know her.
And standing here with these stupid roses, I wonder if she’ll even want me to know her, or if what we had was just something that happened during the job because we both needed stress relief.
Can I really look her in the eye and ask for more?
I know I can’t live without her. The past week proved that much. Every moment away from her felt wrong, like a vital part of myself was missing, and I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. But knowing I want her and having the courage to ask for her are two very different things.
I almost walk away.
No, I’m stronger than this.
I knock.
The door opens, and every rehearsed word I planned to say evaporates from my mind.
Wren stands in the doorway wearing a sundress, the hem barely touching her knee, and I forget how to form sentences.
Her red hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and her skin has a faint flush to it.
She looks young and relaxed in a way I’ve never seen before, like all the stress and danger of the past weeks has finally melted away and left someone softer underneath.
This is Wren without the weight of the mission crushing down on her shoulders, Wren when she can think about something other than staying alive and maintaining her cover, and the sight of her like this disarms me.
I open my mouth to say something and nothing comes out. I’m convinced I look utterly stupid standing here with my mouth hanging open.
Wren laughs and reaches out to pull me inside. She squeals when she sees the roses and takes them from me, burying her nose in the petals with a smile that makes all my earlier doubts seem ridiculous.
I still can’t speak. I just stand there, in her entryway, and stare at her like she’s some kind of miracle I don’t quite believe in.
“You’re late,” she says, looking up at me with those sharp blue eyes. “What happened? Couldn’t find the place?”
“I... um... I...” The words tangle in my throat and refuse to come out in any coherent order.
She waves me into the living room.
“Nevermind. I’ll find a vase for these. Make yourself comfortable.”
She disappears into the kitchen, and I’m left standing in the middle of her living room trying to remember how to function like a normal person.
Her apartment is small but comfortable, lived-in, with a bookcase against one wall filled mostly with detective novels and a few non-fiction books about crime and psychology. When I hear her footsteps coming back, I quickly sit down on the couch, so she doesn’t think I’m weird.
Wren places the vase on the coffee table and takes a moment to arrange the roses, adjusting them until they sit just right.
“Thank you,” she says. “They’re lovely.”
Finally, I manage to get words out.
“You’re welcome.”
She smiles at me and grabs a bottle of wine. There are two glasses on the table, and I notice that one of them is already half full. She blushes as she picks up the bottle.
“Sorry, I started without you. It’s just... I really needed a drink.”
She looks up at me when she says it, and I wonder if she’s feeling as nervous as I am right now. The thought that she might be just as uncertain about this makes me feel slightly better.
Wren sits down next to me and passes me a glass. We clink them together, and she takes a sip while I just stare at the dark liquid like it might give me answers. Then her eyes widen and she smacks her forehead with her free hand.
“My God, I’m so silly. You don’t drink. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I swear I haven’t forgotten. It’s just... it’s wine and I’m used to sharing it.”
“Oh no, I can drink,” I say quickly, not wanting her to feel bad. “I won’t feel it the way you do, but... I can do it. Watch.”
I take a sip and swallow. The wine seeps into my matter and becomes one with me, spreading through my body like water through sand. It doesn’t do anything for me, but I smile at her anyway to show her it’s fine.
Wren laughs and takes the glass from my hands.
“You don’t have to pretend for me. I’ll drink it, don’t worry.”
She takes a sip from her glass, then from mine, and looks up at me with mischievous eyes that make my chest tighten.
I stare at her like she’s some kind of goddess, like she’s something holy and untouchable that I have no right to be sitting next to. I can’t believe how different she is like this and how much I love seeing this version of her.
Before I know what I’m doing, the words spill out of me in a rush.
“Wren, I want more. I’ve missed you like crazy. Day and night, it doesn’t matter, all I do is think about you, and I just want...” I rub a hand over my face, frustrated with how inarticulate I sound. “I don’t expect you to say yes, but I wanted to ask if you... If you would be my girlfriend.”
Wren looks taken aback. She places both glasses on the table, and her expression shifts to something more serious, and for a terrible moment I think this is it, she’s going to reject me.
I think she asked me over to commiserate like friends over a glass of wine, and I came here imagining there could be something more between us.
I’ve just made everything awkward and ruined whatever chance I had.
But then she slides closer to me and places her hands on my chest, and I feel myself melting into her touch.
I can’t help it. My matter responds to her, enveloping her hands so they sink into my chest like she’s reaching inside me.
I feel her heartbeat through the merge and the way her stomach flutters with excitement.
Hope flares bright and desperate in my chest.
“Zeth, I want that. I want us to be more.”
It takes me a moment to process her words, but when I finally do, I relax and lean in to kiss her.
Our lips meet, and I pour everything I’ve been feeling for the past week into it, all the longing and fear.
We kiss slowly for a long minute, and I never want to stop, but then Wren breaks away and whispers against my mouth.
“Maybe I should tell you my real name first. It’s not Wren Hayes, you know that.”
I shudder. I can’t believe I’m about to learn her real name. I’m so nervous I might actually pass out.
“It’s Rhea. Rhea Blythe.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Agent Blythe, if you like it better.”
I cup her face with both hands, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palms.
“Pleased to meet you, Rhea.”
I kiss her hungrily, not letting her go, pulling her closer until she’s practically melting into my body.
My matter envelops her arms and shoulders, spreading across her skin like I’m trying to pull her inside me completely.
Her heart is nearly inside my chest now, and I want to devour her, that’s how desperate I am for her touch.
Rhea throws a leg over my lap and climbs on top of me, but I break the kiss and look at her with all the adoration I’ve been holding back.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, breathless. “You don’t like this?”
“I love it. Rhea, I love you.”
Her eyes widen and she gasps, but I need to pour my heart out now before I lose my courage.
“I love you so much, and that’s why I need to tell you who I am and what happened to me. I need to tell you about Olivia.”
Rhea stays quiet, but she doesn’t pull away. She just looks at me with those blue eyes and waits.
“My parents were weak symbiotes who struggled to find willing hosts to feed from, and their vulnerability made them targets when I was young. A trafficking ring attacked us, humans and monsters working together, and they killed my parents and kidnapped me.
“Young symbiotes are valuable to traffickers because we don’t know how to feed ourselves yet.
We have to be fed by our parents, who merge with us partially and transfer energy directly from their own reserves.
A young symbiote merged with a host can’t instinctively draw energy.
The host has to intentionally direct their bioelectrical energy to us, and that creates a dependency that traffickers exploit.
“I was trafficked for years during my adolescence, forced to merge with multiple hosts against my will, people who paid money to experience having a symbiote’s power.
I had no control over who I bonded with, or when I could separate, or how I was treated.
Some hosts were cruel, others were just indifferent, but none of them saw me as a person.
I was property, an object to be rented out for profit, and it left me with trauma around intimacy, touch, consent… and merging.”
Rhea’s hands tighten inside my chest, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“Of all the people who used me, Olivia was the worst. She was young then, before she became Olivia Kyzer, and she paid the trafficking ring good money to be merged with me repeatedly. While we were merged, she forced me to have sex with her in our shared dreams, and I couldn’t resist her prompts because she was mentally stronger.
I was just a kid and didn’t know how to protect my mind yet.
The dream sex was violating and traumatic, but what was worse was what she made me do while merged during her waking hours.
“She would have sex with men while I was trapped inside her body, and she forced me to give her my strength during these encounters, forced me to improve her stamina so she could have sex with more men in one night.
I was stuck inside her feeling everything she felt, unable to escape, having to enhance her physically while she used me as a tool for her pleasure.
“This went on for an extended period until I finally escaped the ring, and after that I lived on the streets for a while before I managed to build something resembling a normal life. It took me years to recover.
“That’s why I had such a visceral reaction when I saw her at Viktor’s party. Seeing her again after all these years brought everything back. Now she’s in jail, though, and I can finally move on with my life.”
I look into Rhea’s eyes and whisper, “If you’ll have me, broken as I am.”
Rhea hugs me, pressing my head to her chest.
“You’re not broken, Zeth,” she whispers in my ear. “You are mine, and I would know better than anyone. I love you, Zeth. You’re mine, and I’m yours. You’re not broken.”
I sob into her chest, my whole body shaking and trembling even though I don’t produce tears. This is as close to crying as I can get, and Rhea holds me through it.
“Shh,” she whispers, pressing my head harder against her. “You’re here with me now.”
I pour inside her slowly, my matter dissolving and flowing into her body like I’m melting into her skin. It’s not rushed or desperate, just the slow merging of two people who belong together.
Rhea curls up on the couch, and I curl up inside her. We hold each other like this, merged and connected, sharing one body and one soul.
No matter what happens, no matter what the future brings, I know I’m not alone anymore. I will never be alone again, because Rhea will contain me, and I will contain her.