Chapter 22 #3
I stopped. My stomach flipped. Because that was exactly what had happened.
And yet, I closed my eyes, leaning back against the cold metal wall.
And yet it didn't feel like only a week.
Not when I thought about him. Not when I thought about the way he looked at me.
The way he knew things without asking. The way the bond—no, not a bond, I wasn't calling it that yet—whatever it was between us pulled tight, like gravity finding center.
Time.
A slow breath slipped out of me. He had told me. Time wasn't fixed. Not the way I understood it. Not out here. Not for them. Moments could stretch. Collapse. Fold in on themselves. So what did a week even mean? If something felt real—if it was real—did the duration matter? My lips parted slightly.
"That's a dangerous line of thinking," I murmured.
Because if I accepted that—if I allowed that possibility—then I couldn't dismiss what I was feeling as fast. As irrational. As temporary. I couldn't hide behind logic anymore. My chest tightened. Because the truth was, I did feel something.
Strong.
Stronger than anything I had ever felt before.
That alone should have been enough to send me running. Back on Earth, I had been… measured. Careful. Detached. Emotions were manageable when they were contained. Categorized. Observed from a safe distance.
Anger.
Frustration.
Attraction.
Those were easy. Those had rules. This, this was everything at once. Heat and fear and curiosity and something deeper, something that settled low in my chest and refused to be ignored. I exhaled shakily.
"I don't even like people," I muttered.
Which was the most ridiculous part. I had never felt this way about anyone. Not even close. There had been attraction, sure. Interest. Theoretical compatibility. A few attempts at relationships that fizzled out the moment they required anything more than polite engagement.
But this?
This wasn't polite. This wasn't careful. This wasn't contained. This was… overwhelming.
I pushed away from the wall, pacing again, slower this time.
"Okay," I whispered under my breath. "Let's approach this logically." That helped. A little. "He says he loves me," I went on, ticking points off on my fingers. "He's also an ancient alien with a completely different understanding of time, connection, and… whatever this is." I hesitated. "…Aelyth."
The word sat there, unfamiliar and entirely too loaded. I still didn't fully believe it. Didn't want to. But—my throat tightened—but I had felt something. When he touched my mind. When I touched his. That pull. That resonance. That… recognition. Like something in me had gone: There you are.
I pressed my lips together. "That doesn't mean anything," I said quickly.
"It's… chemistry. Biology. Some kind of neuro-response—" I broke off, huffing a laugh while still trying to ignore the guards who now watched me with open curiosity.
"Right. Because that explains the whole ‘seeing into each other's minds across space' thing. "
God. I scrubbed a hand over my face. "I'm losing it."
But the thought wouldn't go away. That feeling. That certainty. I let myself sit with it for a moment. Just a moment. The answer came, quiet and undeniable. I felt something for him. Not just attraction. Not just curiosity. More. A lot more. It terrified me.
A little.
"Do I love him?" I whispered.
The question hung in the air. Too big. Too fast. Too soon. A week. Whatever it was. It wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough. I closed my eyes.
"Maybe…" I murmured.
Then, pushing myself, I straightened my shoulders. "Enough."
I took a deep breath and returned to the Superior Commander's office. Two pairs of eyes watched me with interest when I entered.
Resolutely, I turned to Ashley first. "Okay. What the hell happened on Cronack?"
Her expression sobered immediately. "Cronack used to be a Cryon playground. Genetic manipulation. Hybridization. Environmental stress testing."
My stomach tightened. "On who?"
"On anything they could get their hands on," she replied. "Native fauna. Imported species. Prisoners. To the Cryons, they were all disposable lab rats." Her jaw set. "Some of the experiments were… unfinished when we arrived."
I swallowed. "So when Dravok says something's still there—"
"I believe him," Ashley nodded without hesitation. "The Cryons were meticulous. And cruel. They never abandoned a project unless it turned on them."
I thought of what Dravok hadn't said. Of anomalies. Of things that didn't belong, like Oracles. Whatever the reason for his silence, I honored his wishes of not disclosing the true nature of his visit to Cronack.
Ashley let out a slow breath, then seemed to shake off the weight of it all. "Anyway," she rolled her shoulders slightly, "enough about Cryon nightmares. You look like you're holding together remarkably well, considering."
I snorted. "Oh, I'm not. I just learned that gods can compress trauma into sentient cosmic consequences." I gestured vaguely. "Normal week."
Her smile widened, genuine now. "You fit right in already."
Xandros glanced over at us, one brow lifting. "She does," he agreed. "That's usually a bad sign."
"Hey," Ashley protested mildly.
I tilted my head, curiosity getting the better of me. "So… how did you two meet?"
Xandros opened his mouth. Ashley cut in immediately. "I pointed a blaster at his head."
I blinked. Then laughed. Hard. Xandros sighed like a man long accustomed to this version of events. "In my defense, the Cryons mistook my bed for a research facility."
"In my defense," Ashley shot back, "he was an almost seven-foot-tall alien warlord who had a ship and was my fastest way off Colynth."
"I was not a transport service," Xandros stated flatly.
"You were an opportunity," she replied. "I took it."
I covered my mouth, trying not to grin too widely. "That's… very on brand."
Ashley's eyes sparkled. "You?"
"Oh." I waved a hand. "I worked for the emperor. Astrophysics. Black holes. Then Dravok kidnapped me."
Xandros choked. Actually choked. "He did not—" he began.
"He absolutely did," I replied calmly. "It was very dramatic. Lots of glowing. Some existential dread. Then sex."
Ashley burst out laughing. Xandros stared at the door that had closed behind Dravok, then at me. "The Arkhevari are nothing like the emperor described."
"I've noticed that," I agreed.
Ashley leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry. You'll survive him."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's not reassuring."
She grinned. "Neither is he."
For the first time since we boarded the Imperial flagship, the room felt…
lighter. Not safe. Not calm. But familiar.
Welcoming, even. Two women, from a planet that shouldn't matter, laughing quietly in the shadow of gods and generals.
I suspected that mattered more than anyone in this room was ready to admit.