Page 29 of Invasive Species (Outcasts of Oloria #2)

My lips twitch. “None at all?”

“None. I want all your moods, all your many colors, especially…

when you're with me, and it's like you come alive.

I reckon you could be like that more, but maybe that's a long-term thing, and no pressure either.

Whatever you wanna be, whoever you want to be, I'm here for it.” She sniffs, gazing up at me, waiting.

And all I can think to do is pull her close to me. This infuriating, adorable human.

She rubs the back of her neck. “I… I almost feel like I shouldn't be the one to ask, but?—”

“Do you want to continue giving in to lust, whilst developing a firm foundation for a loving relationship built on mutual trust?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” she says, with a small sad smile. “I'll never betray you again, Gara.”

Words are easy for females to say, but these ones? They come from her heart. Despite all cold logic, all theories of what the bond truly is, I know what I'm feeling.

She is my mate .

And as maddening as she is, as exasperating, she's equally as unexpected, and I suspect her love is as boundless as her ideas.

I duck, put my arms around her shoulders and knees, and sweep her against my chest.

Her fingers crawl through my hair, then pull back. “Sorry, I shouldn't touch you right now.”

“No, you should.” I lean my forehead against hers, meeting her gaze, drinking her in. “I want you to want to.”

And her joyous smile is almost bright enough to light the rocks surrounding us. “I have the weirdest feeling. Like I know you’re… happy. It’s kind of a glow, here.” She rubs the center of her chest.

“I am. I’m happy. Hm. This lends evidence toward an actual mating bond taking shape between us.”

“Mating… bond.” Her mouth opens, then closes. Water drips from her nose, and I wipe it off with my finger.

She takes my hand, tight. “Fuck. That’s a lot, but… I’m a lot, if you hadn’t noticed. I think I’m happy to roll with it, if you are.”

I can barely form the words. “I am.” Such joy surges through my chest, I gasp from the sensation. She smiles, adding to my euphoria, and wraps her small arms around me as much as she can.

Perhaps this is not the logical choice, but it’s still my choice.

“Good,” she mutters into my scales. “Now then. I’m not the best planner, but I know you are. What are we going to do about the here and now?”

I’ve forgotten the rain pelting against my back. “I’m going to carry you back over the fields to the house, but I want this rain to stop.”

“It’ll never stop, it’s Britain,” she says with a sigh, hot breath setting my scales alight. “Thank you. You rock. ”

“Me?” I frown at the sedimentary stones surrounding us. “I’m an organic life form.”

A noise behind me makes the scales on my back solidify to be as hard as betrillium. I hunker down over her. Nothing will get past me to her.

She wriggles to see past my shoulder, breasts in her sodden shirt pressing against my chest. “It’s that hiss from before. I think I know who it is.”

I risk a glance behind me. The purple chicken with all her feathers standing on edge struts behind me. When she opens her beak, the noise she makes sounds like a running faucet.

“Mae! You’re okay.” Arra-bellah grins widely.

“You see? Nothing will dare harm the… bird.” I’m not sure whether she is still a bird, but it will have to suffice for now.

“You were right,” Arra-bellah says. “You can rub it in now.”

“Rub.” I gently massage her shoulders and upper arms. She’s warmer than she was, but I need to get her out of these wet clothes. “I’ll rub you all over to dry you once we get under proper cover.”

“Sounds very nice… oh!” She bites her lip. “So, um, it looked like the condom melted on your knotting cock. I'm going to run out for some emergency contraceptives.”

The change in topic throws me, but she's made an incorrect assumption. “My knotting cock doesn't contain material for reproduction.”

“Oh. Okay.” She winces. “I guess I should have thought of this, but you don't have any diseases, right?”

“Of course not. I'm a Selthiastock, I never get ill or sick and no disease takes hold of me.”

“Is that because of all your nanites?” she asks.

“Nanites only repair physical damage. Selthiastocks have superior antibody reaction and manufacturing capability, more so than any other clone.

Moreover, once I've encountered a disease, I can treat it in my shipmates. The process is almost an instinct, using smell and taste to isolate what I need to combat whatever we encounter.”

Her eyes go round. “So you can treat anything?”

“Not… everything.” My even tone hides my shame. I hadn’t been able to get the rare flower the female needed. It was a perfect excuse for my elimination. Unfortunately, it also involved the rest of the team.

Arra-bellah’s eyes soften, shimmering with unshed tears. “You’re plenty enough as you are. Thank you.” She nestles her cheek against my chest, her voice a whisper. “Thank you for being you.”

For being… me? I frown. “I’m nothing special.”

“Yes, you are,” she insists, her gaze lifting to mine, earnest and filled with something that makes my hearts stutter. “You’re patient and kind—more than I ever expected. You only get grumpy when you’re worried, and when you’re happy, you… glow.”

She smiles, her wide exuberant happiness making her bedraggled appearance irrelevant. She’s radiant despite her exhaustion and pain, shining brighter than any stars in the sky.

I glance down and realize that I am glowing—a soft, yellow-green pulse in rhythm with my heartbeats. I can’t help but imagine, if she were whole and uninjured, if we were back at the homestead… I would be making love to her in every way possible, showing her just how much I want her.

She snuggles closer. “Much better than the stories say.”

“Indeed.” I lower my chin gently to rest on the crown of her head, careful not to disturb the bruise on her temple. “But I’ve always wondered something.”

“Hm?” she hums, her voice drowsy.

“All these captive females across the galaxy… don’t captured troops have rights? How is this allowed?”

Her laugh is soft, sweet, and it makes my glow burn brighter, but the tremor in her body steals away my joy, replacing it with a deep-rooted fear.

We walk, Arra-bellah’s breathing hitching.

I pace slowly, hoping for a break in the weather, but the storm rages on.

I can’t risk a fall while carrying her. This is the most high-pressure field exam I’ve ever faced, more so than all the field injuries I’ve treated.

If I lost a clone it was devastating to me, but as long as my patient success ratio stayed within tolerance levels, the matriarchs did not care.

I hate feeling this helpless. If only I were a Gerverstock, with their sharp sense of direction, or even a Parthiastock, with their endurance. But no. I’m just a Selthiastock—a fool stuck in this storm, trying to keep her alive while all my instincts scream to get her to safety.

My arms twitch. She deserves better than me, but I’m all she has out here. I squeeze my arms around her, giving in to my selfish desire and protecting her from the cold and rain with everything I have, which isn’t much.

A sharp light suddenly razes across my back, flooding us and our surroundings in a blinding pool. I crush Arra-bellah tight against me, her body limp. My hearts race, but not only from terror. I curve over her, bracing myself for a blow, banding her in my arms, ready to take whatever comes.

They’ll have to go through me before they lay a hand on her.