Is that why he didn’t shower?
Because he’s in too much pain?!
“Breathe, Zig,breeeeeathe.”Micah’s cool hands were suddenly cupping my face, his touch settling me, if only somewhat. “I’m not in physical pain. I mean, I do hurt a little, but it’s thegoodkind of hurt, ya know?”
Frustration replaced my blind panic. “Then what am I picking up on? You are upset aboutsomethingbut are not telling me what it is!”
I knew full well I was being hypocritical and, judging by the smile my mate was failing to hide, he was about to bluntly point my hypocrisy out to me.
Dr. Micah has arrived.
“Yeah… It’s rough when someone you deeply care about is hurting but doesn’t seem to trust you enough to talk about it, huh?”
Ouch.
Before I could reply, Micah continued, “Thereissomething I’m kind of upset about, but… it’s really just my own shit that snuck up on me out of nowhere, so I was trying to leave you out of it.”
I scoffed. “I don’twantto be left out of it. I want to know everything.”
Because you are mine.
Micah sighed and turned to the mirror before pulling aside the neck of his shirt again. “I’m actually upset at howfastthese marks are already healing, thanks to my supe DNA.AlienDNA, whatever, although… not alien enough.”
The last part was spoken so bitterly, I could taste it, and I was confused why we were back on this subject again. “Micah, I told you last night, you are my mate, no matter what?—”
“Notreally,though, right?” Micah interrupted in a sharp tone. “Not in a way anyone out here would recognize.”
Is this about getting space married?
I was about to suggest we go look at Micah’s “Space-Married to my Space Husband” Pinterest board for the millionth time—anything to help—but he blew out a breath and continued.
“I’m sorry, Zig.” He smiled apologetically before averting his gaze. “It’s just… The first Hydrassian who cornered me at the Muonova said I ‘didn’t appear to be mated’, and I guess that stuck with me more than I thought.”
What?!
Oh.
I cleared my throat, knowing we were entering dangerous territory. “Many species leave marks on their mates while breeding them,” I carefully explained. “However, due to how textured most alien skin is—never mind scales, fur, and various protective gear—most of these marks wouldn’t be visible to the average bystander anyway.”
And that’s not what we’re talking about here.
“What I believe the Hydrassian was referring to was…” I faltered, but forced myself to soldier on, “how you don’tsmellmated.”
Micah’s gorgeous face scrunched into pure confusion before a glimmer of understanding appeared. “Well, Ididhave my shields up… despite my dumbass mistake of texting Gabe when I should have been paying attention to my surroundings.”
Sigh.
The urge to pause the current conversation—to remind Micah yet again of how capable he was—was strong, but it would be evenmorehypocriticalof me to not share my knowledge on the issue at hand in favor of avoiding the subject.
Even if it’smyissues about to be brought to light.
“Yes, your shields are quite adept at blocking your scent but, regardless, you would smell a certain way to others if you had beensuccessfullymated.” When his confusion persisted, I blew out a slow breath. “If you currently were, or had ever been,impregnated.”
Micah’s eyes became comically large as every inch of visible skin darkened with an enticing blush. Most distracting of all was the rawlustnow flavoring the air.
From both of us.
Just as quickly, his distress rose to the surface again, along with his snippy tone. “Yeah, well, then I’m never gonna smell mated, am I? Because that’s not something we can do.”
