Page 6

I am not his possession. The words are a shield, the only weapon I have left against the overwhelming reality of him. He crouches before me, a creature of myth and nightmare, and the glowing blue crescent on my chest pulses in time with the one on his.

He doesn't understand my language, but he understands defiance. His amber eyes, still glowing with a faint, residual light from his transformation, narrow slightly. He cocks his head, a gesture of confusion that would be almost endearing on a lesser creature. On him, it is unnerving.

He points a large, navy-blue finger first to the mark on his chest, then to mine. He repeats the gesture, his expression insistent. See? We match. It is done.

“I see it,” I say, my voice steady despite the tremor running through my body. I force myself to my feet, using the buckled wall of the pod for support. I will not be interrogated on my knees. “But I don't know what it means. And I certainly don't accept your... interpretation.”

My wrist-comp, bless its damaged but persistent heart, flashes a translation of his guttural response. [FATE. BOND.]

“Fate is a variable I don't subscribe to,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest, a defensive posture that also hides the pulsing mark.

“I operate on data, on observable phenomena. And what I am observing is a highly aggressive, territorial male attempting to assert dominance over a perceived lesser.”

He growls, a low rumble that vibrates in my bones. He doesn't understand the words, but the tone is universal.

Okay, Kendra. New approach. De-escalation. Establish protocol.

I hold up a hand, palm out. The universal sign for 'stop.

' “Okay. Let's establish some ground rules.” I take a slow, deliberate step away from the pod, creating space between us.

“Rule one. This,” I circle a two-meter radius around myself with my finger, “is my personal space. You do not enter it without my explicit permission. Understood?”

He watches my gesture, his expression unreadable. He doesn't move.

“Rule two,” I continue, my voice gaining a measure of its old lecture-hall authority. “We need a better method of communication. Your guttural pronouncements and my translator's... creative interpretations are insufficient for any meaningful data exchange.”

He says a single word. My wrist-comp translates it. [MINE.]

“No.” My voice is sharp. “Not yours. I am Dr. Kendra Miles of the Earth Science Directorate. I am a sovereign entity. We can be... colleagues. Allies, perhaps. But nothing more.” Lies. My body is humming with a connection to him that defies every rational thought. My heart is a traitor.

He takes a step forward, violating Rule One with casual indifference. His raw, musky scent of ozone and forest floor washes over me, and my own body responds with a flush of heat. The mark on my chest burns, a sudden, intense warmth that makes me gasp.

He stops, his gaze flicking down to my chest, then back to my face. He touches his own mark, a questioning look in his eyes. He felt it too.

Synchronized bio-thermal reaction. Proximity-dependent. Damn it, this is real.

Before I can process the implications, a familiar sound echoes from the trees. A low, chuffing series of clicks. It's the pack. They're back. Or a different one is. Drawn by the scent of blood from his earlier slaughter.

Jaro, for that is the only name I can think to call the warrior before me, seems to have forgotten my existence.

He spins, his body instantly shifting into a low, defensive crouch.

His fangs, which had retracted, slide back into view.

His amber eyes blaze with golden light. He is a warrior again, every line of his body screaming lethality.

He snarls a command at me, gesturing behind him, toward the relative safety of the pod. [STAY. BACK.]

For once, I don't argue.

They emerge from the trees, five of them this time. A new pack, their eyes glowing with the same hungry intelligence as the last. They fan out, circling us, their movements fluid and coordinated.

Jaro doesn't wait for them to attack. He moves.

He is a blur of motion, a force of nature in humanoid form.

He meets the first predator's charge with a brutal sidestep and a powerful kick that sends the creature tumbling.

He uses a wicked-looking blade he must have had strapped to his leg, its edge gleaming in the dim light.

It's a dance of deadly efficiency. He is all instinct and training, a perfect killing machine.

But there are five of them.

While he engages two, a third breaks from the circle and charges me.

Shit.

I have no time to think, only to react. I scramble for my salvaged gear, my fingers closing around the sonic emitter I'd been trying to repair. It's designed for geological surveys, to send powerful sound waves into rock. I have no idea what it will do to alien biology.

No time for a double-blind study, Kendra.

I aim the emitter at the charging creature and slam the activation stud.

A high-frequency wave, silent to my ears but devastatingly effective, erupts from the device. The predator screeches, a sound of pure agony, and stumbles, its six eyes squeezed shut, its head shaking violently. It's disoriented. Off-balance.

“Jaro!” I scream, though I have no idea if he even knows his own name. I just point.

He sees his opening. He disengages from his two opponents with a powerful shove and leaps across the clearing. His blade flashes, a silver arc in the gloom, and the disoriented creature falls, its throat torn open.

He glances at me, just for a second, his glowing eyes wide with surprise. Then he's back in the fight, moving to intercept the others.

My heart is pounding. It worked. I have a weapon. Not just a defensive tool, but a tactical asset. I scan the chaotic fight, my mind racing, analyzing their movements. Jaro is strength, but he's one against four. He needs an advantage. He needs a strategist.

“The one on the left!” I shout, aiming the emitter again. “Its flank is exposed!”

Another silent blast of sonic energy hits its target. The creature stumbles, and Jaro is there in an instant, his blade finding its mark. Three down. Two to go.

The remaining predators seem to realize the source of their packmates' sudden weakness. They turn their attention to me. Their six-eyed gaze fixes on me, and they let out a series of sharp, barking calls. They abandon Jaro and charge.

My blood runs cold. I fire the emitter again, but they are expecting it. They swerve, their movements less direct but no less deadly. One lunges. I throw myself sideways, the creature's claws tearing through the fabric of my jumpsuit, leaving fiery trails of pain on my arm.

Before it can turn for another pass, Jaro is there. He slams into its side, his roar of fury a physical blow. They roll in the dirt, a whirlwind of blue skin and dark fur.

I get to my feet, my arm screaming in protest, and face the last one. It is circling, trying to get behind me. I keep the emitter pointed at it, my thumb hovering over the stud. It's a standoff. A deadly, silent negotiation.

The creature feints to the left, and I fire. It dodges right, its speed breathtaking. It lunges. I am out of time. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the impact, for the tearing of flesh.

It never comes.

I open my eyes to see Jaro standing over me, his chest heaving. His body is covered in scratches, his navy skin slick with his own dark blood and the blood of his enemies. At his feet lies the last predator, its neck broken at an unnatural angle.

The clearing is silent again, filled only with the sound of our ragged breathing. We stand there, two beings from different worlds, surrounded by the carnage we created together. We are a surprisingly effective team.

He walks over to me, his movements slow, deliberate. He crouches down, his amber eyes scanning the deep gouges on my arm. He makes a low, guttural sound of distress.

“It's fine,” I say, my voice shaking. “Just superficial.”

He ignores me, his gaze still fixed on the wounds. He reaches out, his large fingers surprisingly gentle as they hover over my torn skin. I don't flinch away this time.

He looks up, his eyes meeting mine. The golden glow has faded, leaving only a deep, liquid amber. The warrior is gone, and the male is back.

“We go,” he says, his voice a low rumble. He points towards the direction of the forest from which he first came. “To... home.”

I know what I should do. I should refuse.

I should maintain my independence. But as I look at the dead creatures surrounding us, at the torn metal of my shelter, at the last, sputtering flicker of my torch, I know that staying here alone is a death sentence.

I am a scientist, not a fool. My survival probability has just increased exponentially, but only if I accept his protection.

“Okay,” I say, the word feeling like a concession and a victory all at once. “I will go with you. On two conditions.”

He raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Condition one,” I say, holding up a finger. “You will help me return to my pod. I need to salvage more of my equipment. My scientific instruments. My medical supplies.”

He considers this for a moment, then gives a short, sharp nod.

“Condition two.” I take a deep breath. “This,” I say, pointing from him to me, “is a strategic alliance. A partnership for mutual survival. It is not... a claiming. You will respect my boundaries. You will respect my autonomy.”

His brow furrows, my meaning clearly lost in the vast gulf between our languages.

I try again with gestures, drawing a line in the dirt between us with my finger, then pointing to myself and shaking my head, then pointing to him and shaking my head again.

I then bring my hands together, palms flat against each other. Equals.

A flicker of understanding crosses his face, followed by something else. Annoyance? Amusement? He grunts, a noncommittal sound.

“I need you to agree, Jaro,” I press, using the name I've given him. “This is a deal. A contract. My cooperation for your... respect.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his amber eyes searching my face. I can see the war within him, the battle between his primal instincts and this strange, new demand from a creature he believes he owns.

Finally, he gives another curt nod. It is not the enthusiastic agreement I would hope for, but it is enough. For now.

I have an alliance. A tenuous, dangerous alliance, but an alliance nonetheless. I will survive.

He rises and offers me a hand. I hesitate for only a second before taking it.

His skin is warm, his grip strong and surprisingly gentle.

As he pulls me to my feet, the mark on my chest flares with a sudden, intense heat.

I look down to see it glowing with a soft, pulsing blue light.

I glance at his chest and see his mark doing the same.

We are still connected, this strange, invisible thread pulling between us.

He sees it too. He looks from my chest to his, and then his gaze meets mine over our joined hands. He doesn't look triumphant or possessive. He looks... confused. As confused as I feel.

We spend the next hour preparing for the journey. He helps me salvage what's left of my equipment, his immense strength making short work of tasks that would have taken me days. He lifts heavy panels, tears apart twisted metal, all with a quiet efficiency that I can't help but admire.

As we work, I am acutely aware of the lingering bond between us.

The marks on our chests continue to pulse with a low, steady warmth, a constant reminder of our connection.

It's a strange, unnerving intimacy. When we work together to lift a particularly heavy piece of equipment, our thoughts seem to align on the same solution at the same time, and the marks flare with a brighter, more intense heat. It's disorienting. It's... fascinating.

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.