Page 24 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Trick-or-Treat

“I need you, Everett,” she whispers. “More than anything in this world …or beyond.” A nervous laugh trembles through the last words.

“But if they come?—”

She presses her fingers to my lips. “Send your dragonfly and insect armies.” She glances down. My mind tingles. “Rook. That’s his name, right?”

I nod, pride blooming.

“Send Rook to watch for us.”

The dragonfly whirs past, joined by others—my newly repurposed constructs.

“Now, mountain man,” she murmurs, tugging at my shirt, “make me yours again.”

The cabin is too cluttered, too exposed. I carry her down the porch to the grove, the trees lowering their branches like witnesses.

We lie among the green shadows, fingers searching, breaths mingling. When I slide into her, reforming the bond, it feels less physical than cosmic—a resonance finding perfect symmetry.

We move as one, external and internal humming, as I learn her body and her mind all over again. Enough to die for … enough to find a way to live.

“Now I know I can survive this,” she whispers, stroking my beard before kissing me again. “Because even if nothing else makes sense—if everything was a lie—youare my anchor.”

Torin’s words echo.Is this what he meant by tether?I kiss her eyebrows, eyelids, nose, chin.

“And you,” I murmur against her mouth, “are my peace from the noise.”

Her hand rests over my glowing heart.

“Ask me anything, my little Earthling.”

“What are you?”

I chuckle. She has so much to learn, and since losing the regulator, so do I.

“Sentinels. My kind have been here for millennia—recording, watching, protecting.”

“Protecting what?” she asks.

“The Earth. Its people. Your evolution. We observe and guard—keep other visitors from interfering.”

She frowns.

I hesitate, knowing I could share it telepathically but sensing she needs words.

“Humans aren’t alone. And Sentinels aren’t the pinnacle either. Most off-world travelers are free-will species. But not all. Not even Sentinels. We monitor guests. Keep the ill-intentioned ones from taking over.”

“Because we’re so primitive?”

“Misinformed, yes. Unenlightened, maybe. But no longer primitive, which presents new problems.”

Her tongue skims her lips. I taste her before she can finish.

She giggles. “Being in your head has advantages. I know how much you like licking me.”

A smile breaks across my face. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Not fair. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Who’s distracting who?” I growl, kissing her until we’re breathless.