Fyn swayed toward me before stepping back. “I have…” He said a long word I didn’t recognize. He must have seen my confusion because he elaborated. “It’s a disorder that influences my brain chemistry. I’m prone to bouts of sadness, isolating myself, excessive sleeping, guilt, and intrusive thoughts to name a few things. It makes it difficult for me to do things or connect.”
Depression. He had depression. “I understand. If you ever need a break from me, tell me.”
“I never need you away from me, Caleb.”
Staring at Fyn, I fought my damn romantic heart that had me swooning where I sat.
“Let’s go talk to Wyn,” he said, effectively changing the subject.
“Then you can go to your combat class. I like watching you. It’s fucking hot.” I gave him a wink and rushed out before I saw his reaction.
I stayed ahead of Zoltilvoxfyn until we reached the lab where Wyn worked, embarrassed. I couldn’t believe I told Fyn that I liked watching him. I mean, I did. It was the unadulterated truth, but I didn’t have to blurt it out. Curse my tongue and my inability to keep quiet.
The door didn’t slow me down in the slightest. Wyn was bent over a desk that was one long monitor. His claws were clicking on the glass as his tail flicked. Strands of his bubblegum-pink hair had fallen over his lavender scales.
Wyn was lovely. No doubt about it. But even as I studied him, I started to compare him to Sunshine. My Sunshine was much hotter.
You are dead, I reminded myself.
The door slid open, and Fyn stepped inside. Wyn stood, approaching, while the other scientists called out greetings and offered their throats.
“Prince, it’s yourself.” Wyn tilted his head to the side, acknowledging his superiority.
Drakcol were odd creatures. Probably had to do with some of the warring clan crap that Fyn had told me about.
“Ensign Wyn,” Fyn replied. His tail swished near me, sliding through my ankle. I swallowed. He was so careful to not touch me, like ridiculously careful, and it made me wonder if the tail swipe meant something. God, I hoped it did. I was acting like a teenager, making a production of every little thing. But still, it meant something, right?
“Caleb desired to speak to you and NAID,” Fyn said, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Yep,” I said, bouncing and making sure my ankle brushed his tail. When a subsequent shiver went up Fyn’s spine, I fought a grin; he didn’t move away, though. “I’m here to check on the status on making the sensors see or, well, hear me.” Sunshine dutifully translated.
Wyn’s tail started moving faster. “It’s not going as well as I’d hoped. NAID.”
She appeared a moment later. The sight of her sent a strong longing for home through me. I missed Nana. I missed my family. I’d been off Earth for over two decades now. Nana might not even be alive.
I stared at the ground, sadness swelling, and a sudden frustration eclipsed it. My eyes didn’t burn. My throat didn’t tighten. All of the physical sensations that accompanied emotions were not possible. Man, I missed being alive. I missed everything.
A sheet of white hair blocked my sight of her. Zoltilvoxfyn had stepped in front of me, shielding me, even though no one else saw me.
“Progress?” he asked, voice tighter than normal.
Wyn’s shoulders hunched and his tail curled around his ankle. At his obvious distress, I placed a hand on Fyn’s back. He shuddered and his wings twitched under his tunic. An urge to run my finger over them, to ask him to set them free so I could see them, rushed through me. I suppressed it. Now was not the time.
“I’m alright,” I said. Unable to help myself, I trailed up his spine, then over his shoulders, and down his sides, forming a rectangle before resting my hand on his lower back. His frame was so damn perfect.
Fyn rumbled in the back of his throat, then coughed. “My apologies, Ensign Wyn. I did not sleep well.”
NAID’s head bobbed on the screen, making me grimace. It was odd to watch a disembodied head move up and down. “Sleep is extremely important, Prince. Edith Smith says, ‘Lack of sleep can hinder your decision making. Worries. Stress. All of it will keep until tomorrow.’”
I froze, digging my fingers into Fyn. He shivered when my hand slipped through him, making me pull back. How did NAID know anything about Nana? Sure, she looked like Nana, but NAID wouldn’t have known her.
“Progress?” Fyn asked.
“I’ve been researching other species' technology.”
“Why?” Fyn asked.
“It was Seth’s idea,” Wyn said, leaning his hip against his desk and crossing his arms. “When Seth was first brought aboard the Admiral Ven, NAID searched for species genetically similar to humans to help Dr. Qinlin with his medical treatments.”
