"A scan for what?" I asked.
"To see if the bond is forming," Lyrin said carefully. "And how strong it might become."
Before I could ask what that meant—what any of this really meant—our waiter arrived with enough food to feed a small army. The smells alone made my mouth water.
I looked around the table. Four pairs of eyes watched me with something I'd never let myself hope for.
Maybe I could learn to do forever after all.
Chapter 10
The Starbreaker's sick bay mirrored the storage bay where I'd treated patients earlier—only smaller, more intimate. And this time, I was the one lying in bed, being tended to. After we returned from the station, Lyrin had asked me to come for the scan. I'd wanted to back out—my stomach had twisted at the door to sick bay—but I couldn't. Not after they told me their truth. Not after how they'd made me feel. I held tight to those feelings, not wanting them to slip away.
"Almost finished." Lyrin's voice remained steady, soothing. "You're doing great, Kira."
A machine beeped. A light flashed green. Then silence.
"Okay, that's it. You can sit up now," Lyrin said.
I sat up, swung my legs off the table, and crossed to him in three strides.
"So, what does it say? Am I a suitable match?"
He smiled. "That's not how this works. The scan only shows if a physiological bond is forming between you and us."
"That doesn't sound very romantic."
"It isn't. It's biological." He gestured at the screen. "Every Zorathi cell carries a synergen—think of it like a musical composition. Each of us has a distinct harmonic, but with only four harmonies, the chord remains incomplete. We need a fifth to turn our sound into music."
"So it's like we are competing on Galactic Idol, except I'm the lead singer and we can't win without me?"
Lyrin blinked. "I suppose that analogy works."
"Am I compatible?" I asked.
Lyrin leaned closer to the screen. His fingers danced across the keyboard.
"There is a bond, but it is just beginning to form. It is unstable, but appears to be growing stronger."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means the bond could be complete sooner than we anticipated—days instead of weeks. But many variables must be taken into consideration. Primarily, your feelings and emotions, our reactions, outside influences, and anything else we haven't considered. Distance can affect newly forming bonds unpredictably."
"But there is a bond?" I asked.
"A weak bond, yes. It requires stabilization."
"How do we do that?" I asked, part of me hoping it meant more group hugs.
Lyrin glanced at me, then a sheepish grin covered his face.
"For starters, conversations like this. I am beginning to feel your emotions and to address your... thoughts... It does not require physical contact, sex, or any similar types of rituals." He paused. "I'm sorry that is disappointing to you, but what you need to understand is that stabilization simply requires acceptance. A conscious choice, or series of choices, that signals to all of us that we are coming into balance."
"I'm not sure how to feel about you being able to read my mind."
He shook his head. "I can't read your mind. I can feel your emotions, faintly. Think of it like standing in the shallow part of an ocean. You can feel the water swirl, push, and pull, but you can't feel the full force of the current. It's like your emotions are lapping at the edge of my consciousness."
"Why can't I feel your emotions?"
