I wasn’t complaining. Lor hadn’t left my side since we’d met. He hadn’t talked much, either. Mostly just watched. Listened. Scanned the jungle with those golden eyes like he was waiting for something—something dangerous.
I should’ve been scared.
Instead…I was curious.
Also: ravenously horny.
I didn’t want to be. But my brain didn’t care, serving me tidbits of the best orgasms from the dream at the most inopportune times. Like now, as I watched Lor weave thick vines into a defensive latticework around our shelter.
His hands moved with practiced precision, those deadly claws extending just enough to slice through the tougher sections before retracting again. The muscles in his back rippled beneath his bronzed skin, his tail swaying in perfect counterbalance to his movements.
I forced myself to look away, focusing instead on the pile of strange purple fruits he’d gathered earlier. They tasted like a cross between mangoes and blueberries, sweet with a tart finish that made my taste buds dance.
“These are amazing,” I said, juice dribbling down my chin as I bit into another one. “What are they called?”
Lor glanced over his shoulder, his golden eyes reflecting the bioluminescent fungi that had begun to glow as twilight settled over the jungle.
“The jungle calls them life-givers,” he said, his deep voice sending a completely unnecessary shiver down my spine. “They strengthen the neural connection between you and the ecosystem.”
I looked at the half-eaten fruit in my hand with new appreciation. “So they’re like...psychic enhancers?”
“Of a sort.” He turned back to his work, speaking as his hands continued their weaving. “The jungle communicates through biochemical signals. The fruits help your body interpret those signals more clearly.”
“Is that why Phil keeps trying to be my best friend?” I asked, wiggling my toes at the vine that had inched closer to me again.
Lor’s ear twitched—the equivalent of an eye-roll, I was learning. “You shouldn’t name them.”
“Too late. We’ve bonded.”
“So I see.” There was something almost like amusement in his tone, though his face remained impassive. “The vines are an extension of the jungle’s consciousness. They’re drawn to you because you’re...different.”
“Different how?” I licked juice from my fingers, not missing how his eyes tracked the movement before quickly returning to his task.
“You dream with me,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
And maybe it did. The Unity dream had changed something fundamental between us—and apparently, between me and the jungle too.
Lor finished the latticework and moved to the entrance of our shelter, kneeling to press his palm against the largest tree trunk. His eyes closed, head tilting slightly as if listening to something I couldn’t hear.
“What are you doing?” I asked, crawling closer to watch.
“Asking the jungle to shield us tonight,” he replied without opening his eyes. “The trees can interlock their root systems beneath us, creating a detection grid. Anything larger than a small rodent that approaches will trigger the vines.”
“Like a living alarm system,” I marveled.
He nodded once. “The jungle protects what it values.”
“And it values us?” I asked, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.
Lor’s eyes opened then, fixing on me with an intensity that made my breath catch. “It values you. It senses what you are to me.”
The implication hung in the humid air between us, heavy with meaning neither of us was quite ready to put into words.
“What am I to you?” I asked anyway, because apparently I had a death wish. Or a life wish. I wasn’t sure anymore.
Lor rose to his full height, towering over me even in the cramped confines of the shelter. “You know what you are.”
I did. Kassari. Fate mate. The words from our shared dream echoed in my mind, impossible to ignore.
