CHAPTER FIFTEEN NO BOND WITHOUT TRUST
ROWAN
I packed before Shaarr woke. He was already awake. Of course. He sat against the outer root wall watching the rain.
"I can hear you," he said.
"I wasn't sneaking."
"Your movements were quiet."
"Combat habit."
"Poorly executed."
"Good morning to you too."
Vyrr arrived shortly after sunrise with another guardian and enough supplies for three days. She smelled the air. Looked at me. Then Shaarr.
Her jaw plates tightened. I pointed at her.
"No commentary."
Her human vocabulary had improved.
"Bad."
"Exactly."
She spoke to Shaarr. Fast. He answered faster. I caught only my name.
Then "outpost." Then something that sounded argumentative in any species. Finally Vyrr turned to me.
"You return."
"Yes."
"Work remains."
"I'll finish the model remotely."
"Need human here."
Shaarr said something sharp. Vyrr's head snapped toward him. I didn't need translation. He wanted me gone.
Fair.
"I'll transmit everything," I said. "The relay contamination is mapped. You don't need me physically present for the first simulation."
Shaarr looked at me.
"How long?"
"Two days."
"If the model fails?"
"It probably will once."
His brow plate moved.
"Probably."
"Reality keeps ruining my confidence."
"Useful."
"Don't get used to it."
Vyrr made an irritated sound and walked away. Apparently we had exhausted her tolerance for human-compatible drama. I understood. I approached Shaarr.
The pale armor beneath his eye looked worse in morning light. Old scar. New inflammation. My weapon.
Not mine. Both truths still fought inside me. I forced myself not to apologize again. He already knew.
Repeating it would make him responsible for soothing me.
"The Rootmaws aren't attacking us," I said.
"No."
"They're escaping pain."
"Yes."
"Don't let anyone propose extermination while I'm gone."
His jaw plates opened.
"Who would?"
"Humans."
"Fair."
"And maybe some Hunt-Born after the nursery collapses."
His expression hardened. Also fair.
"We redirect first."
"Good."
He looked at me. I almost laughed.
"Sorry."
"Stop saying that word."
"I'll add it to the banned list."
"With 'fine.'"
"Agreed."
Silence settled. Not hostile. Not comfortable. Accurate.
I looked at him.
"I won't ask you to forgive me."
"Why?"
"Because you know I'm sorry."
"Yes."
"And if I keep asking, eventually the apology becomes about getting relief."
His eyes stayed on mine. That was enough encouragement to continue.
"I'll repair what I can."
"Trust?"
"If you let me."
"That is not something you repair alone."
The answer struck. Good answer. Annoyingly good.
"No."
Shaarr looked west. Then back.
"I will not complete a bond without trust."
My pulse jumped. Not because he refused. Because he had admitted completion still existed somewhere in his mind.
"I didn't ask you to."
"I know."
"And receptor pain doesn't change that."
"No."
"And my guilt doesn't."
"No."
"And Kael doesn't."
His body stilled. I regretted using the name. Then he exhaled.
"No."
Good. Kael was not competition. He was history. Important history.
Not mine to erase. Shaarr stepped closer.
"I want you."
There it was. No receptor terminology. No ritual. No excuse.
The words went straight through me. I had a sarcastic answer ready. For once, it died before reaching my mouth.
"I want you too."
His chest light brightened. Neither of us moved.
"That is not enough," he said.
"No."
"Not yet."
"No."
The difference mattered. I swallowed.
"Do you want me back after I finish the model?"
He looked at me for so long that I almost withdrew the question. Then:
"For the work."
It hurt. Which meant I had wanted another answer. Fair.
"For the work."
I extended my hand. Human gesture. Neutral enough. Shaarr stared at it.
Then placed his much larger hand around mine. Claws retracted. Warm armor against skin. The compatibility response moved through both of us. Not a command.
Not forgiveness. Possibility.
"Goodbye, Shaarr."
His fingers tightened once.
"Rowan."
I left with Vyrr. For the first hundred steps, I kept my eyes forward. On the hundred and first, I looked back. Shaarr remained on the ridge. Watching.
I turned away before the sight convinced me to do something stupid. The journey to the outpost took six hours. By the third, the absence under my ribs had become a dull physical pull. Partial resonance.
Distance response. Juno would have terminology. I didn't want it. When we reached the southern road, he was waiting anyway. Vorrn stood beside him with Renn. The baby saw me first.
All four eyes widened.
"Ro!"
I stopped.
"That's new."
Juno looked exhausted.
"He has decided your name is one syllable."
"Efficient."
Renn reached toward me. I took him automatically. He grabbed my collar and immediately tried to eat the fastening.
"Still feral."
Vorrn's jaw plates shifted.
"Hunting development."
"It's a buckle."
"Hunting."
Juno ignored him. His attention settled on me.
"Where's Shaarr?"
"West."
"You separated."
"Excellent observation."
Vorrn inhaled. I pointed at him without looking.
"Do not interpret my emotional state through scent."
"I said nothing."
"You were about to."
He was. Juno held out his hand.
"Data?"
I gave him the relay module.
"Preybridge contamination is being carried through the mineral root network. We can probably redirect migration without killing them."
"Probably?"
"Reality humbled me."
"Shaarr's influence?"
"No."
A beat.
"Maybe."
Juno smiled faintly. I hated everyone. Inside my quarters, I dropped my pack and sat on the bed. The room felt wrong.
Too square. Too still. No rain on root walls. No enormous alien occupying half the available space. My implant flashed.
AUTONOMIC ANOMALY
I opened the diagnostic. Elevated heart rate. Temperature shift. Hormonal response.
Partial compatibility resonance. Distance stress. I shut it off. The signal beneath my ribs kept pulling west. I let it.
I did not return. That mattered. Wanting was not obligation. Pain was not permission.
Guilt was not love. And trust, apparently, was something two stubborn men had to build from the side where both of them could still walk away.