The pressure in my chest flares again, low and hot and deeply unwelcome.
His eyes darken.
He doesn’t look away from me.
“The jalshagar is a biological bond response,” he says. “It’s older than the Alliance. Older than written civilization. It predates even the first Reaper program. They didn’t invent it. They discovered it. Then they weaponized it.”
Of course they did.
“Some Reapers develop it,” he continues. “Some never do. When it triggers, it means our nervous system has identified a specific individual as… compatible. Stabilizing. Essential.”
My stomach turns over.
“You’re saying your body decided I’m your emotional support human,” I say faintly.
A corner of his mouth twitches.
“It’s not inaccurate.”
I bark a laugh that comes out half-hysterical.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, this is so much worse than I thought.”
He swallows.
“The jalshagar bonded to you in the restaurant,” he says. “When I picked you up. When your blood hit my skin. When your heart rate spiked and mine spiked with it. It was… immediate.”
Immediate.
Fantastic.
“And what,” I ask carefully, because my hands are starting to shake and I don’t trust my voice not to shatter if I raise it yet. “Does bonded mean, exactly.”
His shoulders tense.
“It means my instincts identified you as mine.”
There it is.
The word slams into my chest like a punch.
Mine.
The pressure in my ribs flares hard enough to steal my breath for half a second.
My fear detonates into fury so fast it almost gives me whiplash.
“Oh, absolutely the fuck not,” I say, my voice climbing. “Nope. No. You do not get to drop that sentence into the room like it’s a neutral fucking fact.”
He stiffens.
“You asked what it means.”
“I did not ask what your prehistoric murder DNA thinks it owns,” I snap. “I asked what bonded means in the real world where women are people and not magical prizes handed out by the universe.”
“That is not what I’m saying.”
“It is exactly what you’re saying,” I shoot back, heat flooding my face. “You’re telling me your body saw me, decided I was useful or soothing or breedable or whatever the hell else, and now I’m supposed to just… what. Accept that I’ve been assigned to you like a goddamn emotional support animal?”
