His coils shift, wanting to wrap around me but holding back. Waiting for permission maybe. Or confirmation.
“I choose you,” I say clearly, so there's no mistake. “You specifically. Not this place, not the breeding, not survival. You.”
Something changes in his expression. The careful neutrality cracks, showing something raw underneath. His hand comes up to cover mine on his chest.
“Female—”
“Shut up. I'm not done.” I press closer, feeling both his cocks starting to emerge just from proximity. “I choose you, asshole. Still hate you, but I choose you.”
“Known fact,” he says, but his voice breaks on it.
We stand there for a moment, the portal spinning smaller behind us, everything finally said that needed saying. Then his coils snap around me like they've been dying to, pulling me completely against him.
“Mine,” he says into my hair. Not a question.
“Yours,” I confirm. “Bastard.”
VHAZ
She chose me.
The knowledge sits in my chest like swallowed fire, too hot to contain. She stood at the portal with escape in reach and chose to walk back. To me. Specifically to me.
I carry her to our shelter while she marks my neck with her blunt teeth. Each bite is a claim, her human way of marking territory. I'll let her cover me in bruises if she wants. Let everyone know she chose this.
“Need you,” she says against my throat. “Need you inside me while that thing disappears.”
“Female wants to watch it close?”
“Want to know it doesn't matter. That door closing changes nothing because I already chose.”
My cocks are fully emerged, have been since she said she chose me. But this isn't normal arousal. This is something deeper. My body knows something has shifted. She's staying. Permanently. The chemistry changes, preparing for something more than proto-eggs.
At the pool, she strips off the Earth clothes with vicious satisfaction, throwing them aside. “Burn those later.”
“Female wants to destroy last connection?”
“Female wants to fuck while watching her old world disappear.” She's already backing against the pool edge, presenting. “Breed me properly. Like you're keeping me.”
“Am keeping you.”
“Then prove it.”
The primary slides home and we both know immediately—this is different.
The texture is wrong. Or right. The ridges are more swollen, the base thicker. My body has been preparing for this moment longer than hers has. Waiting for a female to choose to stay, not just accept breeding.
“Feels different,” she gasps as I hilt completely.
“Real breeding. Not practice.” The secondary enters alongside, and it coils tighter than ever—seven loops, maybe eight. “Body knows female is staying.”
“Your body or mine?”
“Both.”
The first wave of eggs releases and she gasps. These are heavier, larger. They don't start dissolving immediately like proto-eggs. They settle into her womb with weight that means something.
“Are these?—?”
