The way he says it makes me giggle. “Don’t get a taste for me now,” I joke.
“I would love to know your flavor.”
Shathar appears to be completely serious as his reptilian, yellow eyes focus on me. It’s hard not to stare back into them as his hand squeezes mine. They’re so intense, so focused on me and only me, that I get warm all over.
“Maybe one step at a time?” I hedge.
Shathar simply nods. “I will wait as long as I need to. I am in no rush. I know humans do not have fated mates, as we Arshurians do, and that courting may take some time.”
Courting? Is that what he’s doing?
“But if humans don’t have fated mates, then how could I be yours?” I ask.
Shathar shrugs. “I do not have the answer to that question, but I know the truth without a doubt. The mating bond is never wrong.”
I’m unsettled by this answer. Never wrong? But how could it “never be wrong” when both Khesan and Shathar are claiming the same thing? Surely it must be wrong sometimes.
We head to the butterfly pavilion next, where we have to wait in line before we’re escorted inside. It’s suddenly very warm and humid, and the pavilion is filled with flowering vines trailing all over trellises, and a variety of plants in bright and enticing colors. Butterflies flit from one flower to the next.
Shathar’s eyes are huge and wide. “The air is wet,” he says with awe.
He comes from a desert world, so this shouldn’t surprise me, but the way he says it is so funny that I laugh.
“That’s what the butterflies like, I think. A lot of them are tropical.”
His brow furrows. “Tropical?”
“They come from a part of the world where it rains a lot.”
Shathar follows the trajectories of the butterflies with wide eyes. “I have never seen such a delicate creature. Very lovely.” Then his gaze travels to mine and he smiles a genuine smile that makes my knees weak.
I don’t know if he means the butterfly.
We exit the pavilion and head back a different way so we can look at things we missed, still holding hands. It’s comforting, something I haven’t done in years—just walking along, hand-in-hand. Shathar is enamored with all the plants, reminding me a little of Roth’kar when he first got to Earth.
By the time we’re finished with the preserve, the sun is going down and I’m starting to feel guilty about leaving Khesan at home alone for so long.
“I suppose it’s time to go make dinner,” I say to Shathar as we exit the way we came in, heading for my car. “I’m sure Khesan is hungry.”
He releases my hand when we reach it. “Khesan will be fine. Arshurians are built to withstand long periods of time without food or water.”
I chuckle uneasily. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Chapter Eight
Shathar
Today was… blissful. Spending time alone with Fiona without that idiot Khesan interfering was exactly what my soul needed. It will take time to convince her of what I already know—that we are meant to be together—but I am happy to go on the journey of learning more about her and giving her greater insight into my own being, too.
To be seen. To be felt. These are the things I crave, have craved for a decade now. This was the reason I came to Earth in the first place, so I would no longer feel alone, and I’m ecstatic to have found what I was looking for.
Fiona is charming, so sweet and genuine, that I want to protect her. Treasure her. Keep her soft even if the world has hard edges. I will be her barrier.
It’s disappointing when our excursion is over and we must return to her house, where Khesan is lying in wait. Who knows what their date tomorrow will be like? Then it will be my turn to stay home, wondering and probably fretting.
But he is not her fated mate, as she is mine. I try to remind myself that I don’t have to worry.
The lights are on inside the house when we park on the concrete pad out front. Fiona leads the way inside, and when the door opens, I am struck by the delectable scent of food.
