Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The clothes turned out to be the easy part.
The facility’s supply stores held standard-issue garments in various sizes, and Becsul had simply taken the smallest ones available, adding a few extra layers in case she found the stone corridors cold.
Based on the data that had been collected so far, humans were more sensitive to environmental extremes.
The datapad had been more complicated. He’d had to go through the security protocols himself, removing access to any systems that might allow her to send messages or interfere with facility operations, but leaving enough functionality that she could read, watch entertainment vids, and access the educational databases.
It felt inadequate, a small kindness in the face of everything that had been taken from her, but it was something.
He stood outside her cell again, the bundle of clothes tucked under one arm and the datapad in his hand, and tried to convince himself that his heart was not beating faster than it should. Then the door slid open at his command, and he stepped inside.
She was sitting on the bed, the child cradled against her shoulder.
She looked up at his entrance, and he saw the way her body tensed—the automatic fear response of a prisoner seeing her jailer.
But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t cower. Just lifted her chin and met his eyes with that defiant stare that made something clench in his chest.
“You came back.”
“I said I would.”
“A lot of people say things.”
He crossed the room and set the clothes on the end of her bed, then held out the datapad.
“Clean clothes. And something to read, as you requested. I’ve loaded it with several thousand texts because I wasn’t sure what you would prefer. It also includes a learning program.”
She stared at the datapad like he’d handed her a weapon.
“You’re serious.”
“I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
Slowly, carefully, she shifted the infant to one arm and reached out to take the device. Her fingers brushed his, and he felt the contact like an electric shock, his tail immediately trying to snake towards her waist. He pulled it back with an effort that made his muscles tense.
She noticed. Of course she noticed—she seemed to notice everything.
“Why does that keep happening?”
“I’m not sure, but it only happens with you.”
She looked away, and he thought he saw a faint color rise in her cheeks. Interesting. Humans displayed their emotional states so openly, their skin changing color with their moods. It was… endearing.
“I spoke to the scientist,” he said, before the silence could stretch into awkwardness. “About the procedure.”
Her head snapped back towards him, all trace of softness gone.
“And?”
“It will be done by injection. An injection to prepare you, followed by a second injection containing the male’s genetic material.” He forced himself to say the words clinically, the way Veyalor had. “No surgery. No… no physical contact beyond the medical procedures.”
Something shifted in her expression. Relief mixed with residual anger.
“So I’ll be a test tube. Not a broodmare. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. Nothing about this should make you feel better. But I thought…” He stopped, struggling to find words for what he thought. “I thought you deserved to know. So you wouldn’t have to imagine worse.”
She was quiet for a moment, studying him with those strange dark eyes. Then she let out a breath that seemed to carry some of the tension from her shoulders.
“Thank you. For finding out. For telling me.”
“I also arranged for you to go outside,” he said eagerly. “There is a training courtyard on the east side of the facility. It’s enclosed but open to the sky. If you would like…”
“Yes.” The word was immediate, fervent. “God, yes. Please.”
Warmth spread through his chest at her response. Such a small thing, access to fresh air, but to her it was clearly precious. He would give her a hundred small things if he could. A thousand.
“There is one complication,” he said. “Your son.”
Her arms immediately tightened around the child.
“I’m not leaving Robbie behind.”
“I would not ask you to. But the paths are uneven and you cannot carry him easily while walking the grounds.” He hesitated, then made himself say it. “I could carry him. If you would permit it.”
The silence stretched between them. He watched her face as she weighed the options—her desperate need for fresh air against her reluctance to let anyone touch her child.
“You were gentle with him before,” she said finally. “He seemed to like you.”
“He is a good baby. Calm. Patient.” Like his mother, he thought but did not say.
“Fine.” She stood, still holding the child close. “But if he fusses, he comes straight back to me.”
“Of course.”
The transfer was easier this time. Robbie blinked up at him with those wide, dark eyes, then seemed to decide that the situation was acceptable and settled against his chest with a small sigh.
This is what I was meant to do. Protect them. Both of them. Whatever it takes.
He gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”
The training courtyard had once been the heart of the facility, the place where young Cire had learned to fight and to honor the ancient traditions of their people.
Now it stood empty and silent, the training equipment long since removed, the stone worn smooth by countless feet that would never walk here again.
But the sky was still the same, a clear pale blue overhead, fading to lavender towards the horizon as nightfall approached. And the air—clean, crisp, carrying the scent of the wilderness beyond the facility walls—was unchanged.
She stopped in the center of the courtyard and tilted her face towards the sky. Her eyes closed, and she drew in a deep breath, her whole body seeming to unfurl with the simple pleasure of being outside.
He watched her, unable to look away. The fading light caught in her hair, turning the dark brown strands to bronze and gold. Her skin, so much softer than his own, seemed to glow in the sunset. She was beautiful. Achingly, impossibly beautiful.
Stop, he told himself. She’s a prisoner. She’s frightened and alone and I’m one of the people keeping her here. Whatever I feel, it’s not fair to her.
But his tail had other ideas. It crept towards her, and he had to physically grab it with his free hand to stop it from wrapping around her waist.
She opened her eyes and caught him in the act. One eyebrow rose.
“Still doing that?”
“I apologize. Again.”
“Does it hurt? Holding it back, I mean.”
He considered the question. “Not hurt, exactly. It’s more like… trying to hold your breath. It’s possible, but you have to concentrate on it.”
“Then let it go.”
He stared at her, not sure he’d heard correctly.
“I’m serious. If it’s distracting you or causing you discomfort…” She shrugged, a gesture that managed to be both dismissive and accepting. “It’s just a tail. And it’s not like you’re grabbing anything important.”
Slowly, uncertain, he released his grip. His tail immediately slid over and curled around her waist, the tip resting against her hip. The touch was warm and grounding, right in a way he couldn’t explain.
“See?” she asked, her voice controlled. “Not so bad.”
He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. This small acceptance, this tiny gesture of trust, meant more to him than she could possibly know.
They walked in silence for a while, circling the courtyard. Robbie dozed against his chest, lulled by the movement and the fresh air. She kept her face turned towards the sky, drinking in the openness like water after a drought.
“Are there others?”
The question came quietly, almost hesitant.
“Others?”
“Other women. Like me.” She turned to look at him, and her eyes were hard. “I’m not stupid, Becsul. An operation like this doesn’t get set up for one person. How many of us are there?”
He could lie to her. It would be the safer choice, the smarter choice. But he had promised her honesty, and breaking that promise now would destroy whatever fragile trust was building between them.
“Three. Including you.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Three.”
“All acquired by the Vedeckians.”
“Acquired.” The word was bitter. “That’s a nice way to say kidnapped.”
“Yes.”
“Do they have cells like mine? Children?”
“One of them does, an older child. The other does not. “
She was quiet for so long that he thought she might not speak again. When she did, her voice was firm.
“I want you to do for them what you’ve done for me. Clothes. Datapads. Time outside.”
“Melissa—”
“I mean it.” She stopped walking and turned to face him fully, her chin lifted in that defiant way he was beginning to recognize. “If you’re going to pretend to be the good guy in this nightmare, then be the good guy for all of us. Not just me.”
Pretend to be the good guy. The words stung, even though he knew he deserved them. He wasn’t the good guy. He was complicit in this horror, no matter how much he might wish otherwise. But he could try to be better. For her. For all of them.
“I’ll do what I can,” he said. “It may take some time.”
“But you’ll do it.”
“Yes.”
The smile that crossed her face was small, but real. The first genuine smile he’d seen from her.
“Thank you.”
They continued walking, but something had shifted between them.
The air felt lighter somehow, despite the weight of everything unsaid.
He found himself talking to her—about the facility’s history, about the training exercises that had once filled this courtyard, about the traditions of his people that were dying along with their species.
She listened, asking questions and offering observations that showed a sharp intelligence and a genuine curiosity.
It felt like a conversation. A real conversation, not the careful verbal sparring of captor and prisoner.
This is dangerous, he thought. This feeling. This… wanting.
But he couldn’t make himself stop.
The sun had fully set by the time they returned to her cell, the corridor lights flickering on to guide their way.
Robbie was deeply asleep now, his small face peaceful, his tiny fingers curled against his chest. She carefully took her son back and settled him into the crib with gentle movements that spoke of long practice.
He watched, reluctant to leave, searching for reasons to stay.
“I should go,” he made himself say. “You need rest.”
“Probably.” She turned back to face him, and there was something in her expression that he couldn’t read. “Becsul?”
“Yes?”
“I know you can’t let me go. I know you’re part of this system, even if you don’t like what it’s doing.” She stepped closer, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. “But thank you. For today. For trying to make this bearable.”
“It’s the least I can—”
She rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The Cire did not kiss. Physical affection between mates was usually expressed through the intertwining of tails, but this… this pressing of soft lips against his mouth, this warmth and pressure and intimacy…
His body responded before his mind could catch up. His hands came up to cradle her face, tilting her head to deepen the contact. His tail wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. A sound escaped him—something between a growl and a groan—as heat flooded through his system.
She tasted of something sweet. Something that made every nerve in his body sing with recognition.
Mine.
When she pulled back, her breathing was unsteady, her cheeks flushed that fascinating pink.
“I don’t know why I did that,” she whispered.
“I don’t care why.” His voice was rough, barely recognizable. “Just… do it again.”
She laughed—a real laugh, surprised and genuine—and stepped back out of his reach.
“Good night, Becsul.”
“Melissa—”
“Go. Before I do something else stupid.”
He wanted to stay. He wanted to pull her back into his arms and explore this new, intoxicating form of contact until neither of them could breathe. But the look in her eyes was half invitation, half warning, and he knew that pushing now would destroy whatever had just begun between them.
“Good night,” he managed. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“I know you will.”
He forced himself to turn and walk towards the door, to put one foot in front of the other until he was in the corridor and the door was sliding shut behind him. Then he leaned against the wall and tried to remember how to breathe.
She had kissed him. Fierce, defiant, beautiful Melissa had pressed her mouth to his and ignited something in him that he hadn’t known existed.
Something that burned hotter than any fire, deeper than any training, more powerful than any oath he had ever sworn.
One simple physical contact and everything had changed.