“Crash?” Her voice is weak but coherent. “What happened? I feel... strange.”
“We are bonded,” I say quietly, because there’s no point in avoiding the truth. “Accidentally. My combat and mate secretions mixed during the explosion, and the biochemical reaction created a... a connection between us.”
She stares at me, and I can see her processing the implications.
“Bonded how?”
“I do not entirely understand the mechanisms. But we are now... linked. Biochemically. You will likely experience heightened sensitivity to my pheromones, and I will be... will be compelled to remain close to you for your safety.”
“Compelled how?”
“Physical discomfort if we are separated beyond a certain distance. Protective instincts that will be difficult to control. Enhanced awareness of your emotional and physical state.” I pause, struggling with the words. “I am very sorry. This was not... I did not intend...”
“How long does it last?”
The question I’ve been dreading.
“I do not know. Among my people, such bonds are usually... permanent.”
The silence stretches between us, filled with the hum of ship systems and the distant sound of Thek-Ka moving around outside.
“So we’re stuck together,” she says finally.
“Yes. I am... I am extremely sorry. This is entirely my fault.”
She closes her eyes, and I can smell the complex mix of emotions on her—fear, confusion, resignation, and underneath it all, something that might be acceptance.
“Well,” she says quietly. “I suppose there are worse people to be accidentally bonded to.”
The words hit me like a knife to a heart—relief and gratitude and something deeper that makes something twist in my gut.
“You are... you are not angry?”
“Oh, I’m furious,” she says, opening her eyes to look at me. “But I’m furious at the situation, not at you. You didn’t choose this any more than I did.”
From outside the ship comes the sound of Thek-Ka beginning to sing—something in his native language that sounds like a funeral dirge mixed with anticipation.
“He’s not giving up, is he?” Zola asks.
“No. But he is... he is allowing us time to adjust to the bonding before we continue the hunt. I think he finds the complications... intellectually stimulating.”
“That’s disturbing.”
“Yes. Very disturbing.” I settle into the chair beside the medical bay, trying to ignore how the mate-bond makes every breath she takes feel significant. “But it gives us time to... to figure out how to survive this.”
Outside, Thek-Ka’s song continues, patient and implacable and strangely beautiful.
The ritual isn’t over. It’s just beginning.
And now Zola is part of it, bonded to me by accident and trapped in my dangerous life whether she chose it or not.
I watch her rest, trying to ignore the way the bond hums between us like a promise I never meant to make, and wonder how I’m going to keep her safe when I can barely keep myself alive.
From the corner of the medical bay, Jitters—finally returned to his normal opalescent blob shape—glows with satisfied pink light and makes contented purring sounds.
At least someone thinks today went well.
4
