CHAPTER TWELVE
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Fin
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THE INSISTENT RING of an alarm jolted me from sleep. My front blazed with unaccustomed warmth and the unfamiliar beat of my zural heart sounded in my ears.
Then Jillian stirred against me, reminding me of the events of the past days—and all of my concerns about what we could mean to each other.
She made a sleepy sound of protest and pushed her hair from her eyes. “What’s that noise? Is that how you get up every morning?”
“No.” I climbed from the bed. “That is a warning. There is a problem.”
She followed me through the main area and into the operations room.
I toggled voice-only when I initiated the communications feed.
A state of emergency would not be the optimal time to try to explain that a human seemed to be my fated mate.
I could dismiss her from the room, yet she would not understand anything said, so I would not be exposing any varoolian tactical information.
“Fin here,” I said in Varoolian.
“Fin, we have a situation,” Tren said. The protector was second in command of our warriors under Head of War, Duke Grol.
“The negotiations with the humans have faltered, and some of our people are getting sick. Many of our shuttles are currently in use ferrying people back up to the medical facilities in orbit.”
“Do you need my shuttle?” I kept it behind the base, ready for quick action if I ever needed. I would hate to leave Jillian alone, but I had a duty to my people.
“No,” Tren said. “But if something were to occur at your location, immediate backup might not be available. Therefore, I need for you to watch the border more closely than ever.”
I glanced at Jillian. Watching her would be no hardship. “Understood. Do you expect them to attempt a strike at Jelva?” The city we were building stood a few hundred kilometers away from any human habitation. Yet it was on this, the main continent, which is where the humans also were.
“We do not know what they will try next.”
“There must be some way to find peace,” I said. I would never be allowed to mate Jillian if our peoples went to war. “They know we will win any battle. Surely we can make them see reason.”
“Humans are not sensible or honorable.”
It was a sentiment I would have echoed easily only two days ago, yet I now knew humans were more complex than we had ever realized. They did not so easily fit the mold the varoolian warrior code had shaped my people into to pull us from our warlike past.
Jillian had saved me. She could have left me trapped in the rock slide instead of fighting so hard to free me. Even though she had snuck into my base and stolen food, I now knew she’d been driven by desperation. She had a true heart.
Still, I could explain none of this.
“Yes, Protector. I will remain extra vigilant.” I closed the connection and turned to Jillian.
She took one glance at my face and said, “What is it? What’s happened?”
I cupped her shoulders. “The negotiations have broken down.”
“Oh, no!” She pulled from me and ran to the hygiene unit.
Billy jumped from his bed on one of the chairs and raced after her.
After yanking the tunic over her head, she shoved her feet into the legs of her jumpsuit and hopped up and down in order to pull it on more quickly. “I have to go. They’ve probably been trying to contact me for a while, and I don’t have my tablet.”
Billy bleated, headbutting her legs as she struggled into her boots.
She rubbed his forehead and looked up at me, her expression miserable. “I don’t have enough to feed him. Can you...?”
“I will look after him.”
She gave him one last pat. “You be a good boy for Fin.” Then she stood and came into my arms. Her shorter ones could barely wrap all the way around me, yet I never wanted to break their grip.
I held her to me, my zural heart beating without filling my hurvon.
Too soon, she pulled away. Her brown eyes were troubled as she looked up at me. “I have to go.”
“You should eat.” I despised the thought of her returning to that ugly rectangular box without adequate food.
She shook her head, her straight hair swirling into her face. “I can’t take the time.” Her hands gathered the long strands and began braiding it behind her head—a warrior’s hairstyle. She tied it off with a band retrieved from a pocket and hurried for the entrance.
The door swished open, and my mate shot one last glance over her shoulder. Our eyes locked and held for a second.
Then she was gone.