She didn't react.
I applied fresh salve, my movements careful despite the frustration building in my chest. The texture was thick, slightly warm from the volcanic components. It smelled of sulfur and something green, herbs crushed and mixed with purpose.
My hands lingered longer than necessary. Tracing the line of her spine, feeling the small bumps of vertebrae beneath smooth skin. Mapping the dip of her waist, the flare of her ribs, the strong muscles of her back.
She was so small compared to me. Fragile in ways that made my protective instincts scream. But I'd seen her fight a firebird and win. Had felt her take me inside her body, accommodate my size through sheer determination and want.
Fragile. But fierce.
Mykyvara.
I rewrapped the bandages, making sure they were secure but not too tight. She needed to be able to move, to fight if necessary. Restricting her range of motion could get her killed.
The moment I tied off the last knot, she pulled away. Not rudely, just quickly. Done with the necessary medical check, time to move on to the next task.
She relaced her shirt, shrugged into her weapons harness, checked the knives at her belt and thighs. All business.
The contrast between last night and this morning was sharp enough to draw blood.
Last night, she'd been all heat and need, her body opening for mine, her hands pulling me closer like she couldn't get enough. This morning, she might as well be preparing for a solo mission.
I gathered my own pack, checked my blades, tried to find some equilibrium in the familiar routine of preparation. My tail kept seeking her out, brushing against her leg when she moved close, coiling around her ankle when she bent to adjust her boot.
She stepped away each time, not acknowledging the contact.
Did she truly not feel it? The pull between us, the rightness of being near each other, the way my body oriented toward hers like a compass finding north?
Or was she just better at ignoring it?
She moved to the cave entrance, looking out at the desert that stretched endlessly in every direction. The heat was already building, turning the air into something that shimmered and distorted distance.
"How long until we reach Ignarath territory?" she asked.
Pure tactics. Mission planning. No mention of what had happened between us, no acknowledgment that we'd been tangled together just hours ago.
"Two more days of hard flying," I said, keeping my voice neutral despite the irritation crawling under my scales. "We'llneed to find shelter during the hottest part of the day. The heat will be dangerous."
She nodded, processing the information. "And the firebirds? Are we likely to encounter more?"
"Possible. We're leaving their primary nesting grounds, but they range widely. Other predators are more likely. Sand serpents, lava drakes, scavenger packs."
"Great." She adjusted the strap of her pack. "Anything else I should know about?"
"The heat will be the biggest threat. Stay hydrated. If you start feeling dizzy or nauseous, tell me immediately."
"I know how to handle heat exposure."
Of course she did. She was a trained soldier, had probably operated in hostile environments on her home planet. She didn't need me explaining basic survival to her.
But I wanted to. Wanted to fuss over her, ensure her safety, eliminate every possible threat before it could touch her.
My mate.
Who was treating me like a mission asset.
I opened my mouth, the words forming before I could stop them. "About last night?—"
"We should get moving." She cut me off smoothly, already turning away from the cave entrance. "Daylight's burning, and we have a lot of ground to cover."
