Chapter 14 #2
The question stopped me short. I thought about the corporate team outside, about their casual discussions of “asset acquisition” and “proprietary technology.” Would any of them have seen her as anything more than a valuable piece of equipment?
“She chose you,” Rykar continued. “Not the corporation that sent you, not the mission planners who thought they could control the outcome. She chose you because of who you are, not who they tried to make you.”
“I’m still part of their plan,” I said, but some of the crushing weight was beginning to lift. “I’m still the reason they found her.”
“And you’re also the reason she’s free of the ground, getting stronger, and becoming more lucid. She can make her own choices instead of being harvested like some kind of mineral deposit.” Rykar’s smile was small but warm. “You gave her life again, Maya. Everything else is just politics.”
We sat in silence for a while, my breathing gradually steadying as his words sank in. The guilt didn’t disappear entirely—I didn’t think it ever would—but it transformed into something more manageable. Determination, maybe. Or resolve.
“I won’t let them take her,” I said finally.
“We won’t let them take her,” Rykar corrected. “And I won’t let them take you. That is final.”
That brought up another worry that had been gnawing at me. “Rykar, what happens after this? I mean, assuming we win the legal battle, assuming the corporate forces withdraw and leave us alone. What happens to me then?”
He studied my face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I gestured helplessly, trying to put my fears into words. “I’m not Destran. I’m not even really part of this community yet. And now I’m bonded to an ancient Sola and apparently destined to be the mate of a lord. What does that make me?”
“It makes you Maya,” he said simply.
“But does it? Or does it make me just another ‘lord’s mate’?
” The words came out more bitter and cynical than I’d intended.
“I spent my whole adult life building a career, becoming an expert in my field, making a name for myself as a scientist. And now I’m defined by my relationship to you and to the Sola.
How long before I stop being Dr. Maya Chen and become just ‘Rykar’s human mate’? ”
Rykar was quiet for a moment, but I could see him thinking. “Have you met Wyn Jones?”
“Of course,” I replied. “She was my doct—” I covered my face and shook my head. “Oh. I’m such an idiot.”
“She’s hasn’t stopped practicing medicine. In fact, she’s better at it, now.” He shifted to sit beside me, close enough that our knees touched. “And yes, she’s Scaron’s mate. But she’s also the person every human and Destran turns to when they need medical help.”
I frowned. “You’re trying to make the point that being someone’s mate doesn’t erase who you are.”
He leaned back against the wall, pulling me with him so I was settled against his side.
“Exactly. Wyn is a brilliant physician who happens to love a Destran lord. Bryn is a former Earth military officer who improved all our defense systems and happens to be bonded to Zurian. Lexi is the busiest therapist in the whole Destran city and happens to also be Grael’s mate. Somehow. He is a terrifying male.”
“They’re defined in relation to their lords—”
“By outsiders, maybe. But not by their communities, and not by themselves.” His arm tightened around me.
“Maya, you think being bonded to an ancient Sola—and to me—is going to make you less valuable as a scientist? You think your geological expertise is going to matter less when we’re trying to build sustainable settlements on alien worlds? ”
When he put it that way, it did sound rather foolish. “I just… I’ve never depended on anyone before. I’ve always been self-sufficient, independent. I’m afraid that if I let myself rely on you, on this community, I’ll lose myself.”
“What if it’s the opposite?” Rykar asked quietly. “What if being part of something larger makes you more yourself, not less?”
I turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“I spent ten cycles flying alone, avoiding connections, avoiding responsibility. I told myself I was protecting people by staying away, but really, I was protecting myself from the possibility of failing again.” His hand found mine, fingers interlacing.
“But being here, accepting the bond, accepting the responsibility of leadership… I’m not less myself.
I’m more myself than I’ve been in a decade. ”
“That’s different. You’re a lord now. You have authority, purpose—”
“And you don’t? Maya, you’re bonded to a Sola that remembers things the rest of us have forgotten.
You’re the bridge between human scientific methodology and Destran biotechnology.
You’re going to help us understand things we never could have figured out on our own.
” He squeezed my hand. “How is that not authority? How is that not purpose?”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. The bio-fusion with the ancient Sola had felt like something that happened to me, not something I had achieved. But Rykar was right—it was a unique position, one that came with its own responsibilities and opportunities.
“Besides,” he continued, “the other human mates would probably laugh at you if you suggested they were ‘just’ anyone’s mates. They’re some of the most formidable people I’ve ever met. And they’re not diminished by their relationships—they’re enhanced by them.”
I felt terrible for saying those words, as they were the farthest things from the truth.
They were phenomenal women who I couldn’t begin to compare myself to.
They were powerful, confident. Of course, they’d had more time to adjust to and grow into their roles, as compared to me, who had just been slapped with it.
“You really think I could be like that?”
“I think you already are like that. You just haven’t realized it yet.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, my head resting on his shoulder as I processed everything. The fears didn’t disappear entirely, but they felt more manageable now. Less like certainties and more like challenges to be met.
“What about you?” I asked eventually. “Are you okay with going from solo transport pilot to lord of a Sola? That’s a pretty big change.”
Rykar was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was thoughtful. “I was never really solo, you know. Even when I was avoiding home, avoiding permanent settlements, I was still serving my people. Making sure Solas got the supplies they needed.”
“But on your terms.”
“On my own terms,” he agreed. “I could help people without being responsible for their lives on a daily basis. I could do good work without risking the kind of failure that…that cost me my siblings.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “Do you regret accepting the bond? Taking on that responsibility?”
“No.” The answer came without hesitation. “It’s terrifying, but I don’t regret it. For the first time in ten cycles, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.” His hand moved to my face, his thumb tracing the line of my cheekbone. “And not just because of the Sola. Because of you.”
Something warm and liquid spread through my chest at his words. “Rykar…”
“You make me want to be better than I am,” he said quietly. “You make me want to build something lasting instead of just running from place to place. You make me believe I might actually be capable of protecting the people I care about.”
I reached up to cover his hand with mine. “You are. You’ve been protecting people all along—you just weren’t letting yourself see it.”
“Maybe. But I want to do more than just protect now. I want to build. I want to create something that will last, something that honors what we’ve both lost and what we’ve found together.”
The intensity in his voice made my heart race. “What kind of something?”
“A community. A settlement where human and Destran knowledge can work together, where people like your colleagues can find their place without having to choose between their careers and their relationships.” His eyes searched mine.
“A place where our children can grow up knowing they belong to both worlds.”
Children. The word hit me like a physical impact, sending heat flooding through my system. We’d never talked about children, about a permanent future, about the life we might build together. But the way he said it, the quiet certainty in his voice, made it sound not just possible but inevitable.
“Is that what you want?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“With you? Yes, if it’s what you want, too.
” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching mine.
“Maya, I know this is all happening fast, I know you’re still figuring out who you are in this new world.
But I need you to know—whatever you decide about your future, about our future, I’m going to support you.
If you want to focus on your research, we’ll make that work.
If you want to explore the galaxy, we’ll find a way.
If you want to build a laboratory in the middle of nowhere and study ancient Sola technology, I’ll help you make it happen. ”
My heart just about flip-flopped in my chest. This male loved me. It was there—on his face and in his voice. “And if I want to do all of that with you?”
His smile was soft and brilliant. “Then I’ll be the luckiest male in the galaxy.”
The space between us seemed to shrink without either of us moving.
I was acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, the way his breathing had changed.
We’d been intimate before, but this felt different.
More deliberate. More like a choice we were both making with full awareness of what it meant.
“Maya,” he said, and my name on his lips sounded like a prayer.
“Yes.”
I wasn’t sure what I was saying yes to—his question, his touch, our children, the future he’d outlined. Maybe all of it. Maybe everything.