Chapter 9 #2
“You may come to Val Mori with me. Conditions may be less hospitable but the chance of conflict is low. I will tell you that Ren has the same orders, not to manipulate you because I know you will want to stay near Emmarae.”
“Yeah, Emry’s not afraid of roughing it.”
“Or…” Zalis scratched at the base of a horn, hesitant to give the third option. “You could stay with my parents.”
“You have parents,” she said. “Sorry. Of course you have parents. I just never thought to ask.”
“Zamos and Lyresh. My mother is thrilled to have a daughter. I was speaking with her when you arrived.”
Gemma chewed her bottom lip, considering the options. It was alarming to witness her mangle her own anatomy, but she had blunt teeth and no fangs. It was a harmless habit, Zalis reassured himself.
“I’m sure they’re lovely people, but I don’t want to live with strangers. What do you want?”
He wanted many things: genuine affection for his mate, to stay near her, and to see her smile again. Sharing any of these points could be construed as manipulative.
He acknowledged this and said, “I want a love match. I want my mate to have a tender regard for me. As such, I will endeavor to court you until this is true.”
“Oh, that’s—” She went pale, then a ruddy pink. Curious.
“Most of all, I want what makes you feel safe, wherever that may be.”
The tension in her shoulders relaxed and her complexion returned to its normal shade. “That’s sweet, but you can’t make someone fall in love with you.”
“I will endeavor nonetheless.”
She traced a path through the poorly drawn star chart, her finger dragging along the surface. “If I have to stay in a warzone, I’d rather stay with you.”
“On Val Mori,” he said for clarification.
“Wherever you go.”
That pleased him. Very much.
“But we need some rules,” she said.
“Yes. That is prudent.”
“First rule, this is temporary,” she said. “At least until I can get back to Earth.”
That did not please him, but he agreed. “Very well, but I will win your affection.”
“Give it your best shot, buddy. I’m romance-resistant.” She rose inelegantly to her feet, glass in hand.
“You are to rest and stay off your feet,” Zalis said, grabbing the glass. “I will refill your beverage.”
She surrendered the cup and sat back down. “Okay, second rule. Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”
“Your ankle is fractured.”
She made a dismissive noise. “This isn’t about the ankle. All day long, people have treated me like I’m super fragile.”
“You—”
“I’m regular fragile,” she said, speaking over him. “I just want to feel like me again and I can’t when everyone is super extra gentle with me.”
“I believe I understand.” He had never broken a bone or suffered an injury that did not improve with a night’s sleep, but he understood the feeling of being treated differently. He handed her the refilled cup. “You do not wish to be treated differently because of your abduction and captivity.”
“Yes! No one could even say the words today. It was an experience or an incident.”
“Very well. I will endeavor to respect your regular human fragility,” he said. Gemma laughed, which was confusing because he did not jest. “I ask for honesty. Do not withhold information or give half-truths.”
Gemma nodded her head. “Agreed. Honesty is the best policy. We’re expected to share the same cabin, I take it.”
“Yes. I am expected to vacate my previous cabin.” He still needed to pack his belongings.
His possessions were not the usual items of clothing, weapons, or sentimental objects.
The bulk of what needed to be moved were his half-finished projects and the hundreds of pieces of vintage equipment he’d collected.
He calculated the difficulty of preparing such fragile, older objects to prevent damage during a move.
The items were older but still useful, often uniquely so.
Perhaps he did have sentimental objects.
“Fine,” Gemma said. “We can be roommates but we have separate bedrooms.”
“Acceptable.” He disliked the notion of separate sleeping arrangements, but he acknowledged her need for her own space.
“About sex—”
He struggled to keep his expression neutral. His tattoos burned regardless.
“I’m not saying that we will, but if we have sex, I’d like to wait until we know each other better. I’m a slow burn kind of gal. Always have been.”
“Strenuous activity is prohibited until your ankle is mended.”
“Yeah, it’s not about the ankle. I like you, Zalis, and I think you’re attractive, but I don’t want to get naked with you just yet. I need time.”
His tattoos tingled, hearing her admit that she found him attractive.
“How much time?” He loathed asking but it was best to know the specific targets.
“As long as it takes,” she said.
A vague and unhelpful answer.
“We will wait until you are ready physically and emotionally,” he said. “You will keep me informed.”
“Umm, sure. I can do that.”
A comfortable silence stretched between them as Zalis cleaned the marker from the table.
“I have a demand,” he said.
“Lay it on me.”
“Inform me of relevant human courting customs. I am unfamiliar with your expectations, and I want to avoid disappointment.”
“You want to court me?” she asked. “I guess I did tell you to give it your best shot.”
“You’re my mate.”
“It’s a marriage of convenience.”
“Mine nonetheless.”
Silence stretched out between them. Her face normally conveyed so many emotions, but at the moment it was blank and unreadable.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“All right,” she said. “Can we spend some time together? You said you had some time off.”
“Tomorrow. It is customary to allow a warrior a few days of leave to help their mate adjust to the new environment.”
“Tomorrow,” she repeated. “It’s a date.”