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I pull out my datapad, its screen cracked but functional, and begin a new log entry.

Subject: Interspecies Bio-Resonant Bond. Initial Observations. Manifests as identical, semi-permanent integumentary markings. Exhibits synchronized thermogenic reactions dependent on proximity and... shared cognitive states? Requires further study. The physiological and psychological implications are... staggering.

Jaro watches me, his head tilted as I tap away at the screen, my fingers flying over the holographic keyboard. He sees me trying to apply science to the primal magic that has bound us together. I can see the suspicion in his eyes, the distrust of my strange, alien technology. But I also see a flicker of something else. A grudging respect.

He may see me as his possession, his property. But he is also beginning to see me as a survivor. As an ally. As someone who is not afraid to look a monster in the eye and negotiate the terms of her own survival.

And for now, that is a start.

Chapter 7: DANGEROUS PATH

Iwatch him move, a creature of impossible grace and power, and I feel like a specimen under my own microscope. Every step he takes is a lesson in biomechanics, a perfect expression of predator efficiency. We have a deal. A strategic alliance. But the glowing crescent mark over my heart pulses with a steady, insistent heat, a constant reminder that this is anything but a simple contract. This is a biological event I do not understand, and I am bound to the alpha predator at the center of it.

“We must retrieve my equipment,” I state, my voice firm, projecting a confidence I absolutely do not feel.

Jaro, my self-appointed protector, stops and turns. His amber eyes, no longer glowing with the beast's fire, narrow on me. He gestures towards the dense, alien forest that leads to his home, then points a sharp, definitive finger at the ground before him. The meaning is clear.We go this way. Now.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. I point back in the direction of the crash. “My pod. My equipment. It is essential.” I usethe Xylosian word for 'essential' he taught me during our tense, post-battle negotiations:kri'vash.

He lets out a low growl, a sound that vibrates in my chest and makes the mark burn hotter. He clearly dislikes being contradicted. He says a word I don't know, his tone dismissive, and waves a hand toward the forest again.

“I am not leaving without my long-range atmospheric sampler and my resonance imager,” I insist, planting my feet. “My work is not complete.”My sanity is not complete. I need my tools. I need my science. It's all I have left.

He stalks back towards me, his sheer size an intimidating wall of muscle and navy-blue skin. He looms over me, a silent, physical argument. I refuse to back down. I lift my chin and meet his gaze.

“The work,” I say slowly, pointing to my head, “is as important as the hunt.” I point to the knife at his hip. “Your tools. My tools.” I point back towards the pod. “Kri'vash.”

For a long moment, he just stares, the muscles in his jaw working. I can almost see the internal battle. His instinct and tribal conditioning scream at him to drag me along, to force compliance. But the flicker of grudging respect I saw earlier is still there. He saw what my 'tool' did to the predators.

Finally, with an irritated sigh that ruffles my bangs, he gives a short, sharp nod. He jabs a finger in the direction of the crash site, then points back this way.Go. Then we go my way.

“Deal,” I agree, a wave of relief so profound it makes me dizzy.

The journey back to the pod is tense. He leads, setting a punishing pace, but I notice my own endurance has increased. My legs ache, but not with the bone-deep weariness I felt before. The air still feels thin, but my lungs don't burn as much.Adaptation? Or a physiological side effect of the bond? I need more data.

When we reach the mangled husk of my emergency pod, the conflict begins anew. I head straight for the reinforced compartment containing my most delicate instruments. Jaro heads for the survival locker.

“No,” he grunts, pointing to the rations and the medkit. He holds up one of the nutrient paste packets. “Food.Kri'vash.”

“The imager is more important,” I argue, trying to pry open the jammed housing. “It can analyze molecular structures. It can tell us what is safe to eat, what is medicinal, what is poison. That is more valuable than a few days' worth of nutrient paste.”

He doesn't understand the words, but he understands my focus. He shakes his head, his expression grim. He points to the medkit, then to the scratches on my arm. He taps his own chest, then mine.Health. Now.

“Your immediate safety concerns are noted, but you're thinking in terms of hours and days,” I say, more to myself than to him. “I'm thinking in terms of long-term viability. Knowledge is survival, Jaro. More than a full belly.”

He clearly disagrees. He walks over and, with one powerful hand, rips the entire survival locker door from its hinges. He shoves the medkit and the remaining ration packs into a salvage bag. His message is clear:These are coming with us.

I sigh, frustration mixing with a grudging admiration for his efficiency. “Fine. We take the practical supplies.” I gesture to the instrument housing. “But I am not leaving without this.”

I brace myself for another argument, but instead, he walks over and examines the jammed panel. He grunts, wedges his powerful fingers into a tiny seam, and with a groan of protesting metal, peels the panel away like it's the lid of a can.

I stare, momentarily speechless.The sheer tensile strength is astounding. I need to get a tissue sample.

I quickly and carefully pack my resonance imager, my geological sampler, and a case of specimen slides. He watchesme, his arms crossed over his massive chest, a silent, impatient statue.

“Okay,” I say, securing the last strap on my instrument case. “I'm ready.”

As we leave the crash site for what I know will be the last time, a strange sense of finality settles over me. I am leaving the last piece of Earth, of my old life, behind. My future is now an uncharted wilderness, and my only guide is a seven-foot-tall alien prince who thinks I'm his property.This is fine. Everything is fine.