Page 35 of Alien’s Retrieved Mate

Zhara didn't hesitate. "Since the moment he touched you. That first contact — whenever it was — that's when the first tier locked in for him."

Something cracked open in my chest. Not anger — not yet. Something bigger, more complicated, a tangle of emotions so dense I couldn't separate them. He'd known since the BEGINNING. Since that first grab in the corridor. Since he'd dragged me screaming through the slave ship and shoved me into an escape pod. He'd known what I was to him, what his body had decided, and he'd walked beside me for over a week without saying a word.

Every deflection. Every time he'd said "complicated" or "various stimuli" or "when the time is appropriate." Every time his markings had blazed and he'd pressed his arms against his sides or turned away or changed the subject. He'd been hiding THIS.

Heat chased the hollow out of my stomach, climbing into my throat until my jaw ached from holding it still.

"He's known since the beginning," I said. "Over a week. He's known I was his — what did you call it?"

"Resonance mate."

"His resonance mate. And he didn't tell me."

"Valorians are not known for their emotional communication skills."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"It's supposed to be accurate." Zhara's voice was gentle in a way I hadn't heard from her before. "The resonance with a non-Valorian has never been recorded. Never. In their entire history. He's as lost as you are, Taylor."

I didn't want to hear that. I didn't want context or nuance or sympathy for his position. I wanted to be angry because the anger was simpler than the other thing — the warm and terrifying thing underneath it that I was refusing to examine.

Because if the resonance was real, if his body had genuinely recognized me as his person, then every moment of the last eight days had to be re-read. Every time he'd protected me. Stood guard. Moved closer in the night to keep me warm. Offered to send my archaeological findings to the galactic academic council. Looked at me in the bioluminescent dark with an expression I hadn't been able to name.

The expression had a name now. And it was bigger than anything I'd prepared for.

The side hatch of the grounded shuttle opened. Kel climbed back in from his perimeter sweep, ducking through the narrow frame with one hand still near his weapon. He took one look at my face and went still.

He knew that I knew. I could see it in the way his entire body locked up, the way his markings flared and pulsed with something new — not attraction or proximity response. Something that looked, in bioluminescent light, like fear.

Good. He should be scared. I was about to have a lot of words for him.

"Zhara," I said, not breaking eye contact with Kel, "could you give us a minute?"

Zhara was already moving. "I'll check the external engine coupling." She squeezed past Kel, gave him a look that roughly translated to good luck, you'll need it, and disappeared outside.

The hatch closed.

I looked at Kel.

He looked at me.

His markings were blazing so bright the interior of the shuttle was lit in blue-white light.

"Were you going to tell me?" I asked. Quiet. Not yelling. The quiet was worse and I could tell by the way he flinched that he knew it too.

"Taylor—"

"Were you going to tell me. Yes or no."

A breath. "Yes."

"When?"

"When I had determined how⁠—"

"How long were you going to wait? Another week? Until we reached the outpost? Until you handed me off to your Authority and disappeared back into the galaxy?"

His jaw tightened. "I was not going to hand you off."