"I won't beg."
"You will." I was certain because I'd seen it before. "The tonic doesn't give you a choice. It builds and builds until asking for help becomes the only option that doesn't involve dying."
She closed her eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why not just take what you want?"
"Because the bonding doesn't work if you're not willing." I kept my voice level, explaining facts she needed to understand. "If I breed you without true consent, your body might accept the breeding, might even accept the bond. But when transformationeventually comes—days later, weeks later—your body will reject it. Your back will split open and the wings won't grow properly. You'll die in agony." I paused to let that sink in. "The courtship ritual exists for a reason. You have to choose me, ask for me, want me clearly enough that your body accepts the change when it comes."
"So you torture me with this tonic until I'm desperate enough to agree to anything."
"Yes."
At least I could be honest about it.
"How long do I have?" she asked quietly.
"Most break by day three. You're stronger, so I'd guess day four, maybe day five." I watched her absorb that information. "Then you'll come find me and ask properly. And I'll breed you until the bond takes. Transformation comes later, when your body knows you've truly chosen this."
"And if I don't? If I last all thirty days?"
"Then you go home. Damaged but alive. The Consortium will suppress the tonic and you'll recover eventually." I paused. "But you won't make it thirty days. No one has. The tonic's too strong."
She opened her eyes. Even from this distance I could see her pupils were blown, her breathing too fast, her skin flushed. The tonic was eating her alive from the inside.
"I'm going to try," she said.
"I know. That's why you're different." I stood, preparing to leave. "I've seen it with other males. Younger ones who bred females on day two when desperation broke them. They thought breaking was the same as choosing. But weeks later when transformation started, those females fought it. Their bodies rejected the changes. They begged to go home, but by then the transformation had begun—going back would have killed them faster. They all died anyway."
"Why?"
"Because their males didn't test them first. Didn't make them strong enough before breeding. Rushed the bonding, and when transformation came, the females weren't ready. Their bodies couldn't handle it." I spread my wings. "You're strong enough to last longer. Which means you have the resilience for the change. Which means when you finally do break and come looking for me, I'll know you can handle what comes after."
I launched from the cave before she could respond, before I could give in to the urge to stay, to touch, to take.
I found altitude and watched the sun set over my territory. Copper-green veins glowing below, marking the boundaries I'd defended for forty-three seasons while waiting for a female strong enough to survive bonding with me.
She was below us, fighting the tonic, hating me, hating herself for wanting me.
Two more days, I thought. Maybe three. Then she'll break and I can give her what she needs.
HALLIE
The tonic had progressed overnight. I woke up dripping, and I don't mean sweating, though I was doing that too.
The tonic had moved past simple arousal into something worse. I was literally leaking between my legs. Soaked through what was left of my suit before I was even fully conscious. The fabric clung everywhere, seams digging in, and every tiny movement sent sparks of sensation that made me gasp.
I couldn't think straight anymore.
I woke up touching myself again. Third time this morning, my body seeking relief in its sleep. Desperate attempts that accomplished nothing except making me more frustrated. I tried anyway because what else could I do? Circled my clit through the damp fabric, pressed hard, rubbed until my fingers cramped. Felt absolutely nothing except the distant echo of what an orgasm used to feel like before the tonic rewired my entire nervous system.
The tonic had shut me down completely. My body wouldn't respond to my own touch anymore. It rejected my touch completely.
I gave up and lay there in his furs, covered in my own wetness, trying to find equilibrium. Day three. I'd made it to daythree, which was apparently better than most. Didn't feel like winning. Felt like drowning slowly while someone stood on the shore and watched.
I forced myself up because lying there wouldn't help. Had to move, had to do something besides marinate in my own desperation. I unsealed the suit, or what was left of it anyway. The compression layer had torn in three places overnight. The temperature regulation was completely dead. The fabric was more holes than material at this point, barely covering anything.
I needed to bathe. Needed to eat. Needed to pretend I was still a person making choices instead of just a body screaming for relief I couldn't give myself.
The pool of water in the back of the cave was cold enough to shock. I stripped off what remained of the suit and stepped in naked. The temperature hit me hard and went straight between my legs, not helping anything, making it worse. My nipples were so raw from constant friction that even the water touching them hurt. I was swollen everywhere, hypersensitive, like the tonic had turned my entire body into one giant exposed nerve.
