"Zymlor," Skylor says, voice flat with murder.
"I told Bryklor you wouldn’t last a week." Zymlor's gaze shifts to me. "Beatrice of Earth, greetings. Welcome to the family. I apologize for my brother's temperament, his Skylor-ness. But you’re mated, so you’re stuck with him now."
"End the call," Skylor growls.
"Bryklor owes me six vesh."
"End. The. Call."
"One more thing." Zymlor's grin sharpens. "Tell your mate not to be alarmed when the ring arrives. I ordered it for you as soon as you stopped taking our calls. You can thank me by making me your best man."
The projection cuts out before Skylor can snatch his ring off the table.
I blink at the space where his brother's face had been, then at Skylor, then at his ring, which has gone back to looking like an innocent piece of alien technology instead of a family group chat from hell. "I'm getting a ring?"
His expression shifts from fury to caution. "Of course." His thumb strokes my wrist. "You are my mate."
My stomach does a strange little turn, not entirely bad, not entirely good either. "Right. Mate."
His eyes narrow with the focus that always makes me feel both studied and stripped. "You do not understand."
"I understand some things." The ache between my thighs makes an excellent opening argument. "Many things, actually. Vividly."
"Beatrice." The seriousness in his voice threads cold through the warm room. I sit up, dragging one of his shirts with me because nakedness feels lessnakedwhen he dissects me.
"What kind of ring?"
His ears angle back. "Are you familiar with the Layn bond ring? It’s very functional."
"Functional, how? I mean, is it the same as yours? Like a 3D phone?"
"In Earth terms?" He pauses. Pats my hands and yep, this isn’t going to be something I’ll like. "It monitors. Protects. Connects."
"Monitors?"
"Location. Stress markers. Biological indicators, like ovulation and heat cycles, along with a few other metrics."
My mouth drops. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s left me speechless. "It's a tracking device?"
His jaw tightens. "On Layn, a mate-ring is not surveillance. It is devotion. The alpha wears one. His omega wears one. The bond is visible. The connection is sacred."
"And the GPS?"
His ears flatten further. "The GPS ensures I know if you are in distress."
"Or if I'm at happy hour."
"Or if you are at happy hour," he admits, and a twinkle flickers in his eyes before he reels it in. "I would know if you were frightened, aroused, or in need."
"First, if I’m aroused, you’d know. Because you already have that covered. As for being frightened… Nothing sounds scarier than this."
The gold in his eyes dims. "It’s not intended to scare you. Quite the opposite. Think of it like this. If you ever wanted me, I’d know, and I’d come to you immediately."
"How does the ring handle it if I always want you? It would be pretty hard for you to get through your day. And will I also be on the Skylor horny alert system? Because I’m not promising to come running."
"It’s not about one thing." He stops. His hand lifts, then falls back to the mattress, and for a moment he looks almost helpless. "I’m your alpha. You should never need something, and I don’t provide it."
The words land softly, almost sweetly, and some traitorous part of me warms to them. "That's almost romantic," I say. "In a deeply unsettling way."
