He collapsed forward. I hovered, hands out, absolutely no idea what to do. Pat his back? Apologize? Run?
After what felt like an eternity, he pushed himself up—first on one knee, then to his feet. He wobbled. His hand found my shoulder, grip tight enough to make my knees weak.
"You punched me in the groin."
I nodded. "I'm... sorry?"
"That is an incredibly sensitive area for the Zorathi."
I shrugged. "It's a sensitive area for human men too."
"You do not understand. It is not the same." His voice dropped, rough and strained. "It is pain shared among all the tethered."
"The what?"
He shook his head, jaw tight. "I thought you were weak. Fragile. A tiny, lost lamb who would faint at the first sign of danger."
"Okay, I get it."
"I thought you would cry during turbulence."
"First: why is there space turbulence? Second: I'm not crying from turbulence, you ass."
"Yes, you are stronger than I expected. Much smarter, too. Attacking an enemy's weakest point is a fantastic strategy. You are a fighter, Doctor."
Before I could respond, he wrapped all four arms around me and lifted me off the ground.
I yelped. Two arms would have been startling. Four was overwhelming. Warm blue skin surrounded me—chest pressed tochest, his heart thundering against mine, the scent of him alien and weirdly appealing, like ozone and something spicy. Every point of contact burned.
My brain flatlined.
When he set me down, I swayed. My skin felt cold where he'd been touching me.
Oh no.
"Today has been a good day," he said, one hand lingering on my shoulder before falling away. "Go clean up and relax. We have the Captain's dinner tonight, and you are the guest of honor."
He clapped me on the shoulder with his lower right hand—casual, friendly, completely unaware he'd just scrambled my neurons—and strode out of the gym.
I stood there, heart pounding, face hot.
Okay. Sparring an alien—checked off the bucket list.
Getting absolutely wrecked by a four-armed hug? Also checked.
Now I just had to survive dinner. And not think about those arms. Or that chest. Or the fact thatthe tetheredsounded ominous as hell.
Chapter 6
A knock at the door woke me from my nap. The sparring match had drained me completely. I’d barely fallen into a dreamless sleep before someone I didn’t know—but already disliked—interrupted it.
I shuffled over and opened it.
Lyrin stood in the hallway.
My eyes went wide. "Oh. Hello. How might I assist you this fine evening?"
What was actually wrong with me?
