Chapter 11 #2
I look around the table at all of them. The entire family is here, even the children.
They are all either taking up seats at the table or are nearby, in the living area.
This is what family looks like, I realize.
Not just people who share blood, but people who show up.
I’ve been alone for so long. I forgot what this felt like.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. “All of you. For everything.”
“You’re one of us now,” Lila looks over at Texon, then back at me. “We take care of our own.”
Heavy grunts in agreement. “Drink your recovery blend.”
I drink.
Every time I glance over at Texon, he’s already looking at me. There’s something different in his expression ever since I woke up in the med lab. I swear he acts like he’s my boyfriend or something. But I must be imagining things. He’s already told me we aren’t compatible.
I shake my head and keep eating.
After I’ve eaten enough to satisfy Jana and drunk enough to satisfy Heavy, exhaustion starts to creep in. The wired feeling from earlier fades, replaced by a deep tiredness that settles into my bones.
“You need sleep,” Roxy says, noticing. “The rapid healing agent works best when you’re resting. Your body will do the last of its repair work overnight.”
I nod and push back from the table. “Thank you for dinner. And the bone broth. And the recovery blend. And...” I gesture vaguely at all of them. “Everything.”
“Go rest,” Chief grunts. “We will see you in the morning.”
I start to walk towards my room, the one that was ransacked. Texon stops me in the hallway with a hand on my arm. I’m so out of it, I didn’t even realize he was following me.
“Not that room,” he says. “Stay in mine tonight.”
I blink. “Your room?”
“It’s safer. I know the layout better. And your room... the scent of the intruders is still there. You shouldn’t have to sleep with that.”
“Okay,” I say to this flimsy reasoning. “Thank you.” Because sleeping in Texon’s room, with him in there too, does sound much better. Also, I’m super curious to see his personal space.
He opens the door and lets me walk in first.
His room is sparse, clean and masculine.
There’s a very large bed, which I assume is Xylan-sized, which means it’s enormous by human standards.
He takes his personal crystal out of his pocket and it glows softly blue on the nightstand.
Mining gear is stacked neatly in the corner.
There’s not much in the way of decorations.
But it smells like him, which is wonderful.
“You can take the bed,” he says. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Texon, no. You’ve slept on floors for two nights already because of me. Look, I’m still wearing the gloves of the unmated. We can both easily sleep on that bed with no skin being touched.”
“I don’t mind the floor.”
“Well, I do.” I gesture at the massive bed. “That thing is huge. There’s plenty of room for both of us. We can both keep our gloves on,” I repeat. “It’s fine.”
He hesitates. His jaw tightens.
“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” I continue. “That’s ridiculous. You saved my life today. The least I can do is share. I’d rather go back to my own room than have you sleep on the floor.”
He gives a curt nod in agreement.
I go back to my room to grab my bag, which wasn’t damaged much in the ransack, thankfully. Then I change in his bathroom, pulling on my favorite soft sleep clothes. I glance at myself in the mirror, pleased with the state of my hair and skin. I think that med lab even cleared my skin.
When I emerge I find Texon with his boots off but wearing sleep clothes that seem to cover him from his neck to his toes. And he’s still wearing those gloves of the unmated.
So am I.
I crook an eyebrow. “I see you’re prepared.”
He grunts in agreement. “We cannot touch tonight because you are not ready.”
I don’t quite understand what he means by “not ready” but I’m also a little too tired to get into it right now.
I climb onto the bed — gods, this mattress is comfortable — and slide under the dark covers on the far side. I’ve noticed that the Xylan like dark furniture and fabrics with accents of blood red. Sometimes it’s a bit spooky, but mainly it’s elegant.
“I love your room,” I admit. “It’s really big.”
Texon lies down on top of the covers, on his back, staring at the ceiling.
Gloved hands folded over his chest. The crystal casts a soft blue glow across the room.
Outside, I can hear the distant sounds of the jungle.
Inside, just our breathing. I’m hyperaware of his body beside me.
The heat radiating from him and the way the mattress dips under his weight.
This is the closest I’ve ever been to Texon.
And we’re not even touching. Heat floods through my lower belly.
I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the ache building between them.
What is wrong with me? I got stabbed today.
I should be exhausted and traumatized. Instead I’m lying next to the most attractive male I’ve ever met, thinking about what it would feel like to roll over and press myself against him.
I imagine long nights of hot, sweaty sex with Texon of Twenty-Four, in this very bed. Waking up each morning in his arms. And maybe us making love all over again before leaving for work.
I would love to move in here with him and have all my stuff in his bathroom, his closet and in his drawers.
Jeez, I’m pathetic.
“You should sleep,” Texon says with a gravely voice. “The med tech said rest.”
“I know. My brain won’t turn off.”
Silence stretches between us.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For today. For everything.”
“You already thanked me.”
“I know. But I mean it. You killed Xylan to protect me, carried me to the med lab and stayed with me the whole time.” I turn my head to look at his profile in the dim light. “Why?”
His jaw flexes. “Because you needed protection.”
“But why you? Why not one of your brothers? Chief could have stayed. Or Heavy.”
He doesn’t answer for a long moment. Then says, “Because I couldn’t leave.”
I turn onto my side, facing him. He’s still staring at the ceiling, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. The tightness in his jaw.
“Texon... can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“In the med lab, after I woke up. After the tech told me about the...” I swallow. “About the fertility repair. You looked at me differently. Something changed.”
His whole body goes rigid.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says.
Liar.
“Yes you do.” I prop myself up on my elbow, studying his face. “And now you’ve asked me to sleep in your room instead of mine.”
He doesn’t respond. His chest rises and falls.
My mind keeps circling back to what Roxy said in her lab, days ago. The thing I didn’t fully understand at the time.
“Scenting is tied to reproductive compatibility. If something interfered with fertility signals, theoretically the scent would register as not compatible — even if the underlying bond potential existed.”
I think about the night we arrived back from employee housing. Standing on the path in the darkness. Me asking him directly, Am I your mate?
And his answer, No. We are not compatible.
But that was before the med lab when they repaired my body.
“Oh gods.” I sit up fully, staring down at him.
He finally turns his head to look at me, and there’s something raw in his expression.
“Texon.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“I’ve been thinking about what Roxy told me about how scenting works.
How it’s tied to fertility and if something interfered with the signals, the scent would register wrong.
I was infertile,” I continue. “My whole adult life I thought I couldn’t have children.
But now the med lab has repaired whatever was wrong. ”
His hands curl into fists at his sides. Even through the gloves, I can see his claws flexing.
“And now you’re acting different, asking me to stay in your room, saying you never wanted me to leave. You’re looking at me like...”
I trail off.
The crystal glows softly.
“Texon.” I meet his dark eyes in the dim light. “Has my scent changed? Are you able to tell now that I’m your mate?”