Avelina: The Cult of Anick: Book One

8. Chapter Eight

“I’m sorry, Syndeth,” Linorra said in alarm. “I did not mean to upset you. It’s just that you are so brilliant and beautiful, I would not think to compare you to a human. You’re the loveliest dragon I’ve ever seen. Why, you are made with every color in the rainbow, and you gleam with a magnificent shine.” Linorra did not bother to tell Syndeth that he was only the second dragon that she’d seen. That did not matter. She could not imagine a more stunning creature.

When I awoke, a blanket covered me that was made of the same material as Aaron’s shirt, but thicker. It was too dark to see. I pressed the side button on my watch, and it glowed enough for me to spot Rogue curled up at the foot of the cot.

I’m a belly-sleeper, and drool dripped out of my mouth at the corner. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. That must have been cute when Aaron placed the blanket over me. Then I realized that my borrowed shirt was hiked up over my bare hip in a way that would have been comically indecent with no blanket covering me. I hoped he didn’t see anything. Then I remembered his cat eyes and groaned.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the cot and waited, listening. I didn’t hear anything.

“Rogue,” I said, “I think we’re both going to have to pee outside this morning.” I didn’t hear any snickering. “And maybe poop too,” I said a little louder. Nothing. Maybe Aaron was already up and outside.

I stood and peeked around the other side of the privacy screen, then lifted my watch and pressed the side button again. The glow was enough to show me that Aaron wasn’t there anymore. My watch said 3:11 a.m.

The light went out, and I pushed the button again to find my pack, but nothing happened. Ugh. The watch was dead.

I turned and reached down, feeling for my pack. I found it by touch and dug out the flashlight, which I used to find and retrieve my clothes from the side of the tub, where Aaron had replaced them after dumping the water. They were still somewhat damp, but I could live with it. I changed back into them behind the privacy screen, then rolled up Aaron’s shirt and stuffed it into the pack. I didn’t think he would mind if I borrowed it for a few more days.

I had a gross taste in my mouth, so I grabbed a spearmint leaf and chewed on it while I put on my socks and shoes. I’d have to find something better for my teeth, eventually.

I felt oddly comforted by the sensation of wearing shoes. They were trail runners, a little stiffer, heavier, and more durable than my road shoes. I had taken to wearing them when I began training for my ultramarathon, and the solid weight on my foot somehow made my entire body feel more durable.

I took my watch off and stuffed it into the pack. Then, using the flashlight, I looked around to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. I sat down next to Rogue and mentally prepared myself to leave the relative safety of the cottage to go look for Aaron.

After a minute, I stood and moved as silently as possible toward the front door, navigating around the table and chair. Rogue followed closely behind me. The door wasn’t barred, so I grabbed the knob and turned it. It must have been recently oiled because it didn’t make a sound.

The first thing I noticed when I cracked the door open was the aroma of the redwoods. The forest here had that same scent that I loved. It smelled like home, which was comforting, despite the memory of yesterday’s dragon attack.

It was dark outside, too, but I got the impression that the sun was about to rise somewhere behind the trees. It felt too early for that, but I supposed if we were at a high enough latitude, it could rise this soon during the summer. Then again, this world might have a completely different size and rotation than Earth. Who knew if it even was summer?

I pushed the door open, but hesitated, hovering in the doorway. I didn’t see anyone or anything outside, so I listened for a minute while Rogue waited next to me. I glanced down at him, then motioned ahead just as I had seen Aaron do the day before. He darted around me, trotting out the door to the left, then around the house and back up to the right, as he had done when we first arrived. Then he sat still, gazing up at me.

“Okay,” I whispered and stepped out of the doorway.

“That was well done,” Aaron said from above my head. I about jumped a foot out of my durable shoes. He laughed quietly from the roof.

“Rude,” I said, turning around to scowl up at him. He laughed again. My adrenaline screamed at me to do something drastic, but I didn’t know what it was. Perhaps Evilina would tell me later.

“Have you been waiting up there just so you could scare me to death?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “that was just a side benefit. I always come up here for the early morning watch. I can see you were paying attention yesterday, but next time, don’t forget to look up.”

“Great, thanks for the tip. Say, did you climb up that ladder that was right above my head while I slept on the cot?” I asked.

“There’s another way up from out here,” he said, gazing down at me.

That wasn’t a no.

“Okay then. Now what?” I asked.

“Now, we start walking. It’s safer in the dark. I’ll meet you inside so we can pack up.” I suspected that he still silently laughed at me, but it was too dark to tell. His voice gave away nothing.

“Actually, I need to make a pit stop before that,” I said. Aaron looked at me blankly. I guess they didn’t have race car–related euphemisms in this world.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Aaron. Just give me a minute alone, would you? Rogue and I have to go water a tree.” That did the trick. He made that same hilarious groaning noise from yesterday, did a literal facepalm, then turned to head toward the trapdoor.

Yeah, that’s what you get, you big bully. You’re lucky I didn’t talk about fertilizing the tree too.

I glanced down at Rogue. “Where’s the bathroom around here, Rogue?” He looked at me for a second, huffed out a breath, then disappeared around the back of the cottage. That dog was always pee shy. Weirdo. I laughed softly to myself, then followed him to what turned out to be an outhouse behind the cottage.

By the time we made it back inside, Aaron had relit the oil lamp and set it on the table. He had attached both bedrolls to his own rucksack and now knelt in front of his wooden chest, digging through it. He’d donned a leather utility vest that had multiple sheaths, and he was attaching every knife he had to it.

“Expecting trouble?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’m out of bolts,” he said from the floor. I walked to stand next to him, looking over his shoulder into the chest. Everything in there was neatly organized and perfectly stacked. Rogue walked over to look in, too, nudging my hand with his head.

“Can’t you throw fireballs or something?” I asked, scratching behind Rogue’s ears.

Aaron gave me the look again. I was beginning to think it was his default setting. “That would be convenient, but no. I can burn someone with a touch”—he paused for a second, frowning deeply—“or set the ground where they stand on fire, but it doesn’t work over distances and it’s difficult to manage quickly.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I said. I looked around for what else I might pack in my bag but didn’t see anything obvious. “Maybe you could make little flammable balls, set those on fire and throw them.”

He stopped to think. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Really? Well, maybe I won’t be completely useless,” I said. I walked back over to the table and set my pack down. I spotted a little wooden bowl and grabbed it to put Rogue’s water in while on the road, then glanced back at Aaron. He glowered down into the chest from his kneeling position, his mouth forming a taut line.

“I was rude to you yesterday,” he said. “I apologize. I have no excuse.”

I gaped at him, surprised by his blunt apology. When I saw that he was serious, I felt a surge of affection for him. Anyone who apologizes outright like that always elicits a feeling of protectiveness from me because an honest apology is a show of vulnerability. It’s a request for acceptance, an experience that I could definitely relate to.

“It’s okay, Aaron,” I said. “I was just kidding. I’d be bird food if you hadn’t come to get me.”

Aaron stared at me, still on his knees. I looked right back at him, and an understanding passed between us. From that moment on, we would try to trust each other. Given his history, I could see how that might be difficult for him. I had an intense urge to hug him again. I ignored it, and the moment passed. Whew.

He went back to searching through the chest, and I stuffed the little bowl into my pack. It barely fit. I picked up the oil lamp and carried it over to Aaron, holding it over the chest.

“Do you want me to carry anything else?” I asked.

“Are you sure you can fit anything else into that disorganized mess you call a pack?”

“What? I know exactly where everything is in this pack! I just don’t know exactly what is in the pack. And it’s a good thing, too, because otherwise . . .” My voice trailed off.

I was going to say that he’d benefitted from my random first aid kit, but then I looked at the gash that I’d supposedly tended to. With the light so close, I could now see that it actually looked quite bad.

“Holy crap, Aaron! This is terrible. Your eye is completely bloodshot,” I said. I held the lamp at a better angle, and he lifted his hand to shade his eyes. “Hold still,” I said sternly, batting his hand aside. I stepped in closer to remove the bandage, and I saw him wince again. The skin around it was so swollen that it looked like a giant welt. I carefully peeled the bandage off, releasing a putrid smell that made me gag. The edges of the wound were black, and the center was filled with yellow pus.

“Holy shit, Aaron. We have to get you some help with this wound. It’s so much worse than yesterday.” I coughed at the foul odor.

He waved the light away from his face again. “I’ve been scratched before. Dragon talons are poisonous, and they can kill, but I am protected. I always heal from everything.”

“What does that even mean? This is not healing, Aaron, this is spreading. At least let me clean it again. It stinks, and if it keeps turning black and spreading out, you’ll lose your eye and maybe worse.”

Aaron sighed. “Fine, but if what you say is true, then it probably needs a real healer.” He looked at me obliquely, letting me draw my own conclusions.

I hesitated, thinking about what the implications of that would be. I was bonding with him, sure, but this was a pretty big step beyond friendly teasing. My experience in the portal was still fresh in my mind, and I knew that if this healing was anything like that, then I might as well just sleep with him now and get it over with.

“I don’t know how,” I said finally.

Aaron reached up tentatively and touched my cheek where a burn should have been. His fingers were warm, and I instinctively closed my eyes for a moment in response to the sensation. A thrill ran through me, and I wasn’t sure if it came from me or him. “I know you can do this because you already healed yourself,” he said softly. “Look at Rogue’s face. He is still burned, but your face is . . .” He searched for the right word.

“Beautiful? Enchanting? The very essence of perfection?” I suggested. I tried and failed to keep a straight face.

“You make everything into a joke,” he said, shaking his head.

I shrugged. “Get used to it. It only gets worse the longer you know me.”

He huffed a breath out. “I guess I have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” I said seriously.

He paused, thinking about that. “I’ve never healed anyone myself,” he said, “but I know the theory, and it’s not dissimilar to what I do. I’ll guide you the best I can.” He stared at me much as he had the night before when he had inadvertently held onto my hand, his eyes penetrating straight through my emotional defenses.

“Okay,” I said, “but you better sit down for this. Ya know, in case it works. I’d hate for you to pass out and crack your head. That could start a vicious cycle.”

He hesitated for a second, just like I had, then stood and took off his blade-bedazzled vest. He replaced the chest lid and sat on top of it, ignoring the chair.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He paused, then nodded.

“Okay,” I said. “That looked like consent to me. What do I do first?”

“First you have to picture what you want. This will guide the flow of Protection from your reservoir. The Protection fragment works to halt or reverse forces of change and decay. The body has a stable state that it prefers to be in, and Protection forces that state into existence or prevents it from diverging in the first place. It is the complementary fragment to my own, which is a force of change.”

“You and I are opposites?”

“Not exactly. The Absorption fragment is the true opposite of Protection. They repel each other. Protection and Evocation are complementary and work together. You also have access to Connection, which will let you sense what you need to heal. I’m honestly not sure how this will work, since I’ve never heard of anyone having both greater Connection and greater Protection.” He grimaced for a moment, then said, “Not naturally, anyway.”

“How do you know I have this greater Protection thingy?” I asked, gliding past the last comment.

“Because I have lesser Protection, and I know what it feels like. I can sense it in you, in fact. It gives us a sort of resonance, but lesser Protection doesn’t speed up the healing process at all. It only ensures that it meanders in the correct direction. Your face was burned badly enough that it would have left scars on most people, but today you’re healed.”

“That’s what you meant when you said that you were protected?”

He nodded. “Yes. Protection helps you heal, and it shields you from needing to be healed in the first place.”

“Okay, so I have to what? Imagine healing you?”

“Not exactly. Imagine that I’m already healed. Picture the end result, then direct your fragment to work toward that result. You won’t have to know how, it will just happen, the way that your body knows how to use the air when you breathe.”

He took my hand and I felt him immediately. The pain above his eye was sharp, and I felt it as if it were my own. Then, without warning, the memory of his night flashed through me like a shiver, showing me what he had been trying to hide.

The pain above his eye was difficult to ignore, but he’d been scratched many times before and always overcame it. He knew how to endure pain, but this time it felt different. The dragon’s talon had dug far too deep into him, and its poison had gotten into his blood. His body was spending too much effort to purge it from his system for him to also prevent his skin from dissolving and sloughing away.

He had been worrying about it but not saying anything. He hadn’t slept all night. He’d spent a few hours listening to me breathe and feeling an annoying jealousy of Rogue. Then he got up, gaped at my legs and half-uncovered bare ass, laid a blanket on me, and climbed up to the roof. He was exhausted. His fatigue had left his mental defenses weakened, allowing me to get all of that from him in a split second.

I sucked in a breath and yanked my hand away. The pain and memory vanished. I stared at him in shock. I had felt far more than his emotions this time. I had seen right into his mind and spied on his memories. I had physically felt his pain. I lifted a hand to my forehead, rubbing at the tingling skin above my own eye.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.

Aaron swallowed. “It’s not your job to solve all of my problems,” he said.

I nodded, though his response was infuriating, despite me having already had that same thought. I ground my teeth, wondering if he had picked that phrase out of my brain in the same way I had just seen his memories. If so, had he also heard me debating the ethics of sleeping with him? I felt my face flush.

“But if I can help you,” I said, “there’s no reason not to, and every reason to do it. I need your help to get home just as much as you need mine. Probably more so, and you can’t help me if you’re exhausted and blind in one eye.”

He didn’t respond but took a big breath as if trying to calm himself.

“Can I try again?” I asked. “I didn’t even get to the healing part.”

He nodded. This time I took his hand, bracing myself for the pain. It stabbed me again and I winced but held on. The skin around the wound burned, and the vision in his right eye was blurry. The wound itself was numb, which made me worry that it might be too late.

I marveled at how Aaron already felt familiar to me after less than a day. So familiar, in fact, that I was comfortable lecturing him like a child. Maybe that was the resonance that he had been talking about. I had to ask myself if I was actually interested or if this was just a coincidental relationship between us. I had just met him yesterday, and now I was going to touch him in a way that felt like sex?

Yep,I thought, and despite his literal groaning at the prospect, he was voluntarily holding my hand, so he couldn’t have been too opposed.

I glanced over at Rogue. He had rolled over to face the door, as if he were too embarrassed to watch. I took a big breath and delved in deeper. He was more apprehensive than scared, but he was also more open to me than he had been yesterday. The grief was still there, but our conversation about his family had helped. He wasn’t quite as alone as he had been.

That was rather heartwarming, and I smiled. He smiled, too, and I realized, with amazement, that Connection was, indeed, a two-way street. I felt him, and he felt me. We had created a space there together, where we were inside each other’s most private joy, fear, and shame. It was frighteningly intimate.

Aaron was filled with a yearning I knew well. It wasn’t just a physical need but a deep desire to be connected, a desire which, when unmet, humiliates you with its deprivation. I went through an entire childhood with no friends. In college, Drew had been my sole social support until she ended things. I met Marti at a bar in Trinidad the night after my breakup, and I’d tried to drink myself to death. Marti says she drove me home, but I don’t remember any of it. She probably saved my life. Even more incredible, she became my first female friend.

Aaron breathed in and out, and I did the same. His scent filled my nose and then permeated the rest of me, seeping into the dark corners that I preferred to keep hidden from everyone, even myself.

There was something else there, too, that was similar to what I had previously experienced as heat, except this time my mind interpreted it as a scent. It smelled like him but more vivid.

It reminded me of the night that Drew and I kissed for the first time. It was our junior year at San Francisco State, and we had been in the living room of our tiny college apartment. I scrolled on my phone while she studied for a test on the American Civil War. I was in the class, too, but had calculated that I only needed a D on the test to keep my A in the class, so I wasn’t about to waste time studying when I could instead watch an endless stream of fifteen-second videos.

She was frustrated at trying to remember dates and names of supposedly important people. I made a joke about where I thought Robert E. Lee could stick his musket. She laughed, and then, in a moment of impulsivity, blurted out that she had something to tell me but she was scared that I wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore.

I told her not to be an idiot and that she could tell me anything. Then she stepped out of the closet right into my arms. I embraced her, then I kissed her, and a thousand near misses culminated in a life-changing blur of revelation and sweat and long-awaited relief. I remembered what the bedsheets smelled like afterward. That was what this scent reminded me of. It was desire, one that had never before had a viable outlet.

My body reacted to it, and Aaron sensed it. His hand tightened on mine, and he struggled to keep himself from pulling me toward him. If I were going to find this ability to reach into someone and heal them in a way that felt like pure pleasure, it would have to be in this realm somewhere.

I braced myself and threw my awareness into his desire as fully as I could, trying to go deeper. There was a barrier that I couldn’t break through, an old wall that had hardened with time and fear. I pushed against it, but it was as solid as the mountain, unbreakable. He truly was protected.

What if it isn’t a wall but a door? One that is barred from within.

Instead of pushing, I knocked. I whispered, both mentally and aloud, “Can I come in?”

The question echoed in both of our minds. Nothing happened for a moment, but I could sense Aaron warring with himself over the answer to that dangerous question.

Yeswon, and the door cracked. My awareness flooded into him, and I was assaulted by an explosion of information and sensation. Aaron sucked in a breath, and his eyes flew open to lock with mine. I wobbled on my feet a little and he grabbed my arm with his free hand to steady me.

I had only thought that I could feel him before. Now, I wasn’t just inside him. I was him, and he was me. I felt his lips part as if they were my own lips. I saw his memories, and he saw mine. I felt his desire, and he felt the same from me. I felt him getting an erection as if it were my own. That was an eye-opener, let me tell you. Jesus. I felt a sharp, deeply ingrained shame that the unmasking of those urges caused him to feel.

What is this? I asked. Where is this shame coming from? This doesn’t make any sense.

I forgot about what I was supposed to be doing and swam through his thoughts and memories about where this erroneous belief originated. What I discovered was deeply unsettling. Men in golden capes, a dagger with a golden handle, a council sitting at a high table, burning houses, a room full of students with various injuries, a young girl being dragged away by a man in a black hat, a belt hanging on the back of a door, a secret room filled with banned books. Something called the Ministry.

What is the Ministry?I asked. I had already suspected that this was a conservative society, but this went far beyond that. Every single person was indoctrinated to believe that purity came from pain and that sexual desire was shameful and wrong. They had to get permission to have sex from their Ministry leader, even for the purpose of having children. They literally needed a fucking permit.

Holy shit. This is so much worse than I thought. This entire world is controlled by a cult. The whole godforsaken planet.

I sensed Aaron’s confusion at my certainty in this, and he rejected it at first. He came from one of the more rebellious families in the region, so he wasn’t as anchored in the dogma of the Ministry as some, but when it came down to it, he couldn’t entirely escape the brainwashing of his own culture. But then, just like I had done, he immersed himself in the memories of my life.

My family was the opposite of conservative. We didn’t go to church. My mother educated me about sex at the age of seven. She put me on the pill when I was fifteen and took me to get an IUD when I was seventeen. I had sex for the first time later that year, and my mother bought the condoms. My parents were so open that they hadn’t batted an eye when I had asked if my friends could all stay in the guest rooms together. This was normal and expected. I sometimes underestimate how much their way of thinking influenced me, but my parents, and my mother especially, taught me that absolute freedom of mind and body is the most natural and right way to be.

Talk about seeing things from someone else’s perspective. Imagine believing in something your whole life, with your whole spirit, only to learn beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had been duped. There was something happening in this world that I didn’t understand yet, a force trying to exert control over everything and everyone. It wasn’t right or just. Everything about it was deeply wrong.

It doesn’t have to be this way,he thought.

It’s not this way. Not for me.

I became aware of a pressure that started at the base of Aaron’s spine and pushed upward like a geyser. He grew unnaturally hot and shook violently.

Rage, I thought, watching in spellbound dismay as Aaron’s memory flicked through all the ways the Ministry had ruined his life. They were the real reason his family had left him behind. They were the reason he had to hide in the woods like a criminal. He had always resented the Ministry, but he had also believed them when they called him a traitor. He had spent years running, feeling deeply conflicted about his rebellion.

It had all been a lie.

I thought for a moment that he might accidentally set me on fire. Reluctantly, I withdrew from him again, extinguishing our shared mental experience. I knew I didn’t need to heal his anger and resentment. I only needed to exist there with him in that room. Again, I felt an overwhelming urge to hug him. This time, I gave in. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

He returned the embrace, hugging me so hard that I feared being crushed by his unnatural strength. He pulled me onto his lap, and I let him. I held him there until he stopped shaking, soaking up the heat radiating from his body. The intimacy would have frightened me a day ago. Now, it felt completely natural. I had never become so close with someone as quickly as I had with this man over the last day. I knew him now, and he knew me. I felt for him. More than that, I could feel my priorities shifting for him.

Aaron released me from the hug, allowing me to breathe again. Neither of us smiled as we stared at each other, taking in the change to our situation that I knew we both felt. Whatever we were before, whatever we thought we were, that was over now.

His eyes were exceptionally pale, a beautifully bright shade of blue that was almost clear. His pupils were huge. He looked down at my mouth and then back up at my eyes again. I knew I would let him kiss me, but I wasn’t ready yet, mostly because I found the wound above his eyebrow to be revolting and I didn’t want to put my face anywhere near it.

“Can I try one last time?” I asked.

He licked his lips, then nodded. I had my arms around him already, so I reached up with one hand and rested it on the back of his neck, opening up my awareness to him again. He bowed his head a little, his face nearly resting against my own neck. He let me in readily this time, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on finding the wound above his eye with that awareness.

It was all but impossible. Attempting to comprehend the internal mechanisms of his body was like standing in a crowded auditorium, struggling to understand someone shouting from the opposite end in a language I didn’t know. There was so much information to sift through, and I didn’t know what to do with any of it. On top of that, everything was fuzzy, as if I were looking at it through smudged glasses. My heart sank as I grasped that this was beyond me. Aaron sensed my disappointment, and he squeezed me a little, lifting his face away from my neck to look at me.

It’s okay, he thought to me. I jerked in surprise. Unlike a moment ago, when I had gotten emotions, images, and jumbled memories, his thoughts were now spoken words, as clear and loud as his real voice. It was super weird. He laughed inside our minds, and although his face barely registered a smile, I could feel his laughter shaking my bones.

You did it to me again, you big bully, I thought to him.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he laughed at me again, even harder this time. Get used to it, it will only get worse the longer you know me.

Oh, shut up, stop copying me and let me work, I thought to him.

His face finally cracked into a grin. It was the first full, broad smile I had ever seen on his face, and it made my heart sing. His expression, normally so closed and stoic, opened as wide to me as his mind had, a fresh joy warming his features like a newly lit hearth in a cold room. I had no choice but to grin back at him.

After so many years of isolation, Aaron was overwhelmed by the sudden insertion of a woman into his life. A tiny woman, even smaller than his mother, which he didn’t think was possible. A gorgeous woman who liked him and who was considering sleeping with him.

Godammit,I thought. You heard that? I covered my eyes with one hand and felt my cheeks heating up again.

“Well, shit,” I said out loud. I am generally very open about sex, but that thought was meant to be private.

He buried his face in my neck again, partly to hide his laughter and partly to breathe in my scent. The experience of smelling my own scent through him was disorienting, but to feel him revel in it was thrilling.

I’m so lucky you had that barrel yesterday, I thought. I laughed, and he laughed with me. I shook my head in an attempt to release the embarrassment. It sort of worked.

I decided that instead of trying to find the injury mentally, I would just physically look at the wound. I pushed myself away from him a little so I could look at it properly, then I imagined pressing healed skin on top of the injury like a bandage. Something connected there, like a magnet attaching to a refrigerator. I got the impression that the actual imagery I used didn’t matter as much as the effort to press my intention into the wound. So, I pushed.

It was a little bit like blowing up a balloon but with a muscle my brain wasn’t accustomed to controlling. It was a massive effort to continue, and a pressure accumulated behind my eyes. After a few seconds, I felt a pressure in my chest as well.

Aaron sensed my struggle and thought, You can stop.

No! I’m a marathoner, dammit. I keep going when I’m tired.

It made me dizzy, but I pushed even harder. Aaron tensed, then closed his eyes and released a deep, guttural moan, letting his head rock back. The sound—I swear—made my uterus twitch, and my heart suddenly raced. Heat rushed to my pelvis and my body begged me to wrap myself around him. I resisted, instead concentrating on pushing Protection with all my strength. I was doing it!

The blackened skin at the edges of the wound shriveled up and fell off, revealing pink, shiny skin underneath. A quiet fizzing sound came from the wound itself. It bubbled as if I had poured hydrogen peroxide on it. The pus dripped out of the wound, down into his eyebrow. It was absolutely disgusting, but I could feel the intense pleasure it gave him as if it were my own.

Our thoughts intertwined, flowing back and forth simultaneously, such that I struggled to distinguish mine from his. Our attention was brought back down to his erection, and we noticed the way I sat pressed against him at an odd angle.

So much for not wrapping myself around him. What a shame.I readjusted myself so that I straddled him, a much more comfortable position for both of us.

Thank you, he thought, and his hands slid down from the small of my back to my waist, then down to my hips. His hands moving over me made me shiver and lose my concentration for a moment. He gripped me a little harder and pulled me toward him. The juxtaposition of sexual tension against the horrifying process of wound healing was so ludicrous that I laughed.

He knew why I laughed, but the intense pleasure made it hard for him to think about anything except lifting me up by my ass, kicking the chair out of the way, and carrying me over to the cot so he could tear my damp clothes off. He narrowly contained the impulse, but the image kept circling and spinning in his mind like a Tilt-a-Whirl.

He growled in frustration, then pulled me into a tight hug to try to make the spinning stop, burying his face in my neck again, inhaling me. Then he opened his mouth and tasted my skin. I let him, a little sigh escaping my lips. His mouth was feverishly hot, and I closed my eyes to just feel it. To him, my skin was silky and cool against his lips, and salty on his tongue. He imagined his mouth moving around the rest of my body, and I knew he would not be able to withstand the urge much longer.

His shame and embarrassment were unraveling. But what will replace it? we asked. Love?No. As much as that idea appealed, this was not about love. This was about freedom. It was about exulting in the exquisite pain and pleasure of being.

My skin tingled all over and my vision blurred. I should stop, I thought. You’ll be okay now.I should definitely stop. I didn’t stop. I pushed Protection into him as hard as I could.He clenched his jaw and let out a sort of grunting whine, then his hands went from my hips down to my butt and he squeezed.

The room started to spin, and I closed my eyes against it. Aaron was about to kiss me when he sensed the change. With extreme effort, he pulled his face away to look at me. His grip loosened a little.

“Lina, stop,” he said.

At least, that’s what I think he said. I’m not entirely sure because I passed out. Aaron caught me before I fell. I heard him say my name, but it sounded far away. I couldn’t respond.

When I came back, he still held me on his lap, keeping me from falling. His face was tense, and he was drenched in sweat.

“Lina,” he said again. He relaxed when I opened my eyes and looked at him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I just . . . I healed you. It was really hard.” He didn’t even smile at the joke. He stared at my face. “What is it?” I asked.

He shook his head and whispered, “You’re glowing.”

I held my hand up to my face and stared. “Again?” He didn’t respond. After a few seconds, the glow faded and I said, “I’m okay.”

He released a breath. “Okay,” he said, then he kissed my forehead and hugged me. I suppose he was too euphoric to worry about a little thing like involuntary bioluminescence.

Something did worry him, though. He felt a new, rather intense affection for me. It made him uncomfortable because it came with a new kind of fear, the kind you feel when you have something precious that you’re scared of losing. He wasn’t sure if he liked this new feeling.

I sighed. Relax, it’ll probably go away when the euphoria wears off. His skittish apprehension annoyed me, and he could feel it. I sat back, releasing Connection. The withdrawal felt like a blast of cold air.

I avoided his searching gaze by looking back up at his wound. It wasn’t fully healed, but he was out of danger. I saw a healthy, glistening pink in the center of the wound, and all the red and black was gone, although it was still swollen. He also still had a disgusting glob of goop in his eyebrow, and I wrinkled my nose.

I slid off his lap and stumbled woozily over to my pack to retrieve the first aid kit again. I followed the same routine I had the day before, cleaning his wound with iodine, letting it dry, then covering it with ointment and a bandage. I wiped the goop out of his eyebrow with the other side of the cotton ball and asked, “So, how was that?”

“That was . . .” He sighed. “I have no words.” He let out a short laugh and wiped the back of one hand across his sweaty brow.

“Yeah?” I asked, my smile returning. “It felt like it was supposed to?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he answered, his face regaining its stoic mask. “I’ve never been healed before. People like me don’t go to healers unless they’re dying. Sometimes not even then.”

“Oh,” I said, confused. I wasn’t sure if I should explore the “people like me” comment. “That was fun except for that part at the end. That’s the second time I’ve glowed like that since I’ve been here. I did it after I crossed the bridge too.” I thought about that night. “I can’t believe it was only a day ago that I was at my parents’ stables drinking beer.”

“What is beer?” he asked.

I looked at him blankly. “Good lord, please tell me you’re kidding. No sex or beer on this planet? That is completely unacceptable.” My head swam. “Anyway. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish the job.”

“You did more than enough,” he said. “Don’t give so much. You’ll hurt yourself.”

I laughed out loud. “Oh, Aaron, I shouldn’t tell you this, but ordering me not to do something is the perfect way to ensure that I continue doing something.”

He didn’t say anything; he just lifted his hand to stroke my one dimple with his thumb, then gently pulled me back into his lap and kissed me.

He tasted like spearmint, and I hoped to all that was holy in the universe that I did too. He hugged me to his warm body, wrapping his arms around my back and enveloping me in his scent. A low growl rumbled in his chest that made me think he held back. I leaned into him, clutched the sides of his tunic, and pulled him closer. His hand came to the back of my head, and he kissed me harder, his tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. His other hand slipped under the back of my shirt and brushed the skin of my lower back.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, pressing his hot palm against my back and running it up the length of my spine. I let out a soft moan that made him chuckle quietly. “You like that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I like everything about you.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze, dreading what would undoubtedly be the return of Aaron’s earlier reluctance. Stupid big mouth.

He sighed, brushing his lips softly against mine. “And I could kiss you for days,” he said, pulling away, “but we’ve already missed our chance to walk in full darkness. If we don’t leave now, we’ll hit the oardoo fields at high heat, and we’ll have to wait at the edge of the forest until nightfall.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that I had just ruined something. It doesn’t matter, I told myself. You’re not here to add another name to the mile-long list of people who have realized how strange you are and have decided you aren’t worth the trouble. Your goal hasn’t changed. Get home. It wasn’t as simple as that, though, and I knew it. Aaron had gotten under my skin—deeper, actually—and he wouldn’t be that easy to shake off.

I sighed, wondering what time it was. I guessed four thirtyish. It was a weird time to kiss someone for the first time. “Okay. Well, my bag is packed,” I said. “I don’t know what’s taking you so long.”

Aaron raised one eyebrow but didn’t respond.

“How long will it take to walk there?” I asked.

“About eight hours.”

That was probably about twenty-five miles. “On Earth, we could do that in a car in less than an hour,” I said. This time, he raised both of his eyebrows.

I smiled. “Inventions, I’m telling you. We’ve got a ton of ’em. I can’t wait to show you.” Especially the one currently lodged in my uterus. Oh crap, I really need to stop thinking things like that. He might hear me. He smiled at me, oblivious for now, but then his smile faded.

“Lina, I feel like I’m waking up from a nightmare, but I need you to remember that when we get to the farm, everyone there will still be living in that nightmare. They won’t understand.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“You can’t tell anyone that you healed me. You can’t tell anyone that we slept in the same room.”

“We didn’t,” I reminded him.

He smirked. Evidently, smiling was easier for him now that we’d mind-melded. “That’s true,” he said, “but we shouldn’t even be in the same room together without an escort.”

“Yes, we should,” I said.

He paused. “These people are my family, but there are limits. You mustn’t try to convince them of anything while you’re there. In fact, talk as little as possible. There are definitely oardoo tenders that would report us to the Ministry if they found out you and I are . . . uh . . .”

Watching him struggle with labels was amusing, especially after he’d basically just told me to keep my big mouth shut. Granted, I did have a big mouth, but being instructed to “talk as little as possible” was insulting. I can be cool. Usually.

He sighed. “I would leave you here if I had rations for you.” He shook his head. “I never believed you’d actually be there.”

“Aaron, it’s okay. Your mother was right about me being there, so maybe she’s right about the next part too. It’ll be okay.”

He nodded, but it was more of an acknowledgment than an agreement. I had a feeling we would struggle hard before the end. I would need Aaron on my side. I just hoped that, whatever we were, it would be enough to get me home.