“My true mate. I… I’m certain that you’re my mate.”
“I can’t be. I’m not an alien!”
“You technically are to me—” He shook his head. “It’s unheard of for my species to form this bond with others, but I can feel it. My body knows.”
Delaney just stared at him, taken aback.
“I need to go take another shower. Why don’t you go work on the ship?”
She got up and moved away. Maelic felt the sting of rejection hit him, but he didn’t balk. She didn’t understand.
“Fine.”
He got up and moved for the door. Didn’t look back. Couldn’t.
If he looked at her—wrapped in his scent, marked by his body, staring at him like he’d just asked the impossible—he’d stay. He’d beg.
And she wasn’t ready for that yet.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that felt louder than it should.
Chapter Eleven
Maelic
Maelichadn’tevenmadeit halfway to the pod before he had to stop.
He sank onto a half-downed log and ran a hand through his hair.How had it gone so wrong?
He should be at the ship. Contacting Katan. Getting extraction. The Axioms thought something had gone wrong by now. And Barvarti…
Innocents could be hurt if he didn’t act. He’d promised himself one rotation. Just one more rotation.
His gut twisted. He needed more time. She was being stubborn, but she had to see this place wasn’t good for her. She was going to lose everything. If he could just make her understand—
A chunk of wood caught his eye near a tree. He huffed and grabbed it, weighing it in his hand. Returned to the log and pulled out his quantum torch.
Barvarti wouldn’t move yet. Even thinking he’d taken Maelic out, the male would know Axioms were on his tail. He’d wait.
Which meant Maelic had time.
He began carving with no clear intention of what he was going to make. His cipherbots supplied an image—a moth. He snorted.
His hands worked while his mind circled. Barvarti wouldn’t run immediately. Slavers never did when they thought they’d won. Arrogant bastards.
The wood took shape. Wings. Antennae. Body.
Not as fine as Delaney’s grandsire would have done. Not even half as good as a mating gift should be. But it was something. Made with his own hands.
He traced the curves with one finger.
She’d told him to work on the ship. Pushed him away after he’d been inside her.
He pocketed the carving and stood. The ship could wait. He had a mate to convince.
Somehow.
Chapter Twelve
