"X. Where are we going? Can you not slow down just a little? I can't keep up."
He froze in place and she bumped into him before he released her bindings, forcing her into an unoccupied cell.
Sylvie ran her hands up and down her arms as goose bumps began to appear. Fear. Fear of the cell before her. It reminded her too much of her time as a captive and her almost dismemberment. She shivered and glanced down at the binding around her throat.
X tugged hard on the binding and her head came back up in time for him to take a large handful of her hair between his fingers. He moved down toward her. "I don't know where we're going!"
She flinched at the volume of his voice, the concern stabbing her in the chest.
"I've run out of ideas, okay?" He pressed his lips to hers in a painful kiss and moved away, growling and dropping to the cushion below him. "I can barely think, my fucking gut is clenching so hard."
She moved toward him and he pulled her down into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the exposed flesh around her breasts as he mumbled, half crazed, "That ship almost blew the fuck up and you almost died. I could do nothing to protect you and it was my fault. I’m so sorry."
"I told you I knew the codes. It wasn't your fault." She brushed her hand over his cheek, his skin feverous. How could she stop the craze within him? His hurting left her confused and unsure of the next steps.
"I should have never put you in danger," he said, burying his face in her chest and brushing his lips over her as if memorizing the curves of her breasts. He was slipping into madness. "The thought of losing you..."
"Shh..." she said, stroking his tendrils and kissing the side of his face.
"I would do anything, give anything, to keep you safe. I cherish you, do you not understand? Do you not hear me?"
A burst of warmth shot through her chest at his words. It was the mating frenzy and he most likely wasn’t in his right mind, but it felt so good to be wanted, to be loved. How many years on Earth had she spent lonely and wishing for someone – anyone – to care for her?
She stayed still in his arms until his breathing relaxed, his kisses slowing down slightly. Sylvie continued to stroke his face and back, wanting to broach the delicate subject of helping him with the mating frenzy, but not wanting to upset him again.
"X, I'm as out of ideas as you are. Uncovering alien conspiracies is not my strong suit. I'm a biologist. That's my skillset. Let me use it to help you. Please?"
He looked at her, but said nothing.
"I could set up a lab here, take some samples, run a few tests, maybe consult with some of your senior scientists–"
"No consultations," he said with a frown. "I want no one else to know of my... condition... until after my demise. By then I'll have set a structure in place to take over for me seamlessly. We can't let things get more chaotic. It's an invitation for invasion."
"No consultations," she agreed. "Does this mean you'll allow me to search for a cure?"
He nodded. "As you said, we're out of ideas. I don't think you'll succeed, even if you are brilliant, but it will give me time to sort out my affairs."
She tried to focus on the compliment and not on the way he seemed resigned to death. It was too terrifying to contemplate.
"Let's get to a lab." She moved from his lap and tugged on his hand to pull him to his feet.
X stood, straightening his cloak. He looked down at her, and she could tell that what he was going to say was difficult for him.
"Thank you," he said, his voice grave, "for helping me."
"Of course," she replied as heat burned her cheeks. She hadn’t done anything but offer kindness and a warm hug. "Anything for my mate."
She'd meant it to come off as flippant, something to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect. Sylvie turned away as heat burned through his gaze and he groaned sensually.
