Page 7

There was a sharpness to her now, aheat under her skin that had not been there before.

Her breathing edged quicker in subtle bursts, her pulse beating in her neck just a fraction too fast for mere exertion.

It was not fear. It was something more primal.

His gaze narrowed, analyzing the minute shifts: the way her fingers paused on each green-panel door as though weighing her choices, the slow stretch of her stride as if subtly testing his patience, her movements tuned to the same measured rhythm ashis.

And then there was the bite. The raw imprint of her teeth against his skin, his blood in her mouth.

That single moment had changed everything, etched its mark into both of them like a brand neither could erase.

He had not considered the consequences fully.

Not until now. But as he followed her through the corridor, the quiet magnetism drawing her closer step by step, it became impossible to ignore.

Whatever ancient protocol his people once buried—whatever mating process the Elaroin had hidden from outside worlds—it had begun. And it was not one-sided.

They reached the galley. Riv’En keyed open the door, gesturing her inside. “Eat. You will require stability to function.”

She stepped past him into the stark room, eyes sweeping the space with quick, sharp attention. “And after that? Where are we going?”

Riv’En followed, letting the door seal behind them. He did not sit. “That depends.” A pause. “If you do not break the rules, we continue as planned.”

She frowned. “Which is what exactly?”

His gaze met hers across the room, steady as ever. “Continuing toward my rendezvous coordinates. Survival until then.”

The galley door sealed behind them with a quiet hiss. Riv’En stepped forward first, crossing to the central console, his movements smooth and capable despite the sharp pulse still dragging through his veins.

“This station will produce sustenance calibrated to your species,” he said, tapping a sequence into the panel.

His voice remained flat, but his focus never left her.

Maya stood near the entrance, her gaze sweeping the room, marking every detail.

It was impulse, he recognized that. And something else.

Awareness. The same quiet pull that had thickened between them since he released her restraints.

Her hands slid into her pockets. “And I do what, exactly?”

Riv’En stepped back, allowing her access. “Select your preference here. Protein, starch, flavor modifiers. The system will synthesize in under one Earth minute.”

She approached slowly, tension held tight in every line of her frame, her focus shifting between him and the console.

Close enough now that he caught the low rise of her breath, the faint electric prickle in the air between them, heat sizzling like static before a storm.

It pressed against him, asubtle pull, steady and relentless.

“Flavor modifiers,” she repeated with an edge of humor. “Right. Alien cafeteria style, Iassume.”

He did not correct her, mainly because he had no idea what she meant.

Her fingers hesitated over the panel. “You said it’s safe?”

“Affirmative. This unit is programmed for human-compatible sustenance.”

Her gaze flicked to him again, sharp, assessing. And then she made her selection. The machine hummed softly, the compartment sealing as her meal processed.

They stood in silence while it worked, the hum filling the space between them.

Not a single word spoken. Despite that, the tension stretched tighter.

The influence of her in the room. The way her presence pushed at the edges of his control.

The knowledge of what had passed between them, of what might still.

A low hum sounded and the compartment slid open.

Steam rose from the tray as Maya pulled it free, revealing a compartmentalized meal that resembled some kind of protein layered over grain, with a side that might have been a vegetable.

She stared at it with wary curiosity, lifting the tray with both hands.

“Looks... vaguely edible,” she muttered, carrying it to the nearest table.She sat first, setting the tray down withcare.

Riv’En followed, silent as a shadow, and noted the faint crinkle in her brow as she examined each item. Her movements were cautious. Assessing not just the food, but the process, the taste, the surroundings. Everything.

“Try it,” he said, taking a seat across fromher.

Maya gave him a suspicious look but picked up the utensil and scooped up a bite of the protein. She chewed slowly, expression unreadable.

“Not bad,” she admitted after a moment. “Little bland, but... not as weird as I expected.”

Riv’En allowed himself to have a fractional tilt of his head. “Flavor modifiers may be adjusted to your preference.”

“Yeah, Igot that.” Her voice softened, slower now, carrying a quiet undercurrent of curiosity layered with something else—atension she seemed just barely aware of, like it had slipped past her defenses before she could catch it.

“So... you eat too, right? Or is this just a human accommodation thing?”

“I eat,” he confirmed. “Not at this interval.”

Her gaze lingered on him as she took another bite, her movements unhurried, lips parting just slightly.

The awareness between them built with every slow chew, tension coiling tighter until even the air around them appeared to wait for the next move.

Riv’En tracked the movement of her lips, the subtle parting as she chewed, every detail sharper than it should have been.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth, not just flicking down but holding for a single charged beat before glancing away again.

“Must be real entertaining, babysitting me.”

“It is necessary.”

“Right. Everything by the book.” Her voice lowered as she stirred her food. “Until it is not.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Going to just sit there and watch me eat, or is this where you tell me what comes next?”

“You still have not asked the question,” hesaid.

Her brow furrowed. “What question?”

“Why you.”

Her hand stilled mid-bite.

The silence returned, tension knotting the air between them.

No words. No movement. Only pressure and awareness building like a pulse neither of them could ignore.

Heat burned beneath Riv’En’s skin, not just instinctive, but sharp-edged and dangerous.

The kind that lived between two bodies drawn too close, without a single word left to softenit.

Her voice came low. “You already said it. Something about my twin. About contamination.”

“That is what I was told. That is not the same as knowing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you don’t know for sure.”

Riv’En did not answer.

Her breathing slowed, each inhale deeper, steadier, as if she were consciously restraining herself.

But Riv’En caught the small betraying signs: the faint quiver just below her jaw, the subtle flush warming her throat, the tightness around her mouth.

It was not just awareness now. It was anticipation.

Attraction sharpened under pressure, pushing against both of them, harder with everybeat.

“So what happens if you figure out I’m not contaminated?”

Riv’En let the pause hang there like a blade balanced onedge.

“Then my orders would no longer apply.”

Her grip tightened on the utensil. “And what happens to me then?”

He leaned forward slightly. Not enough to break posture. Just enough to let her deal with his focus pressing closer.

“That,” he said, “is what we must determine.”

Her eyes dropped to his mouth for a beat toolong.

The heat in the room shifted again.

“Tell me,” she whispered. “How long are you planning to stick to Rule #3?”