“About everything. A human traversing an active rift gate. A human forming a neural connection with GL-7’s ecosystem. A human helping to capture one of the Nexus’s most wanted fugitives.” I traced the line of her jaw with my claw, careful not to scratch. “They will want to study you.”
Alarm flashed across her features. “Study? Like... lab tests?”
“No.” I growled the word, the protectiveness in my tone surprising even me. “You are under my protection. My kassari. No one touches you without your permission.”
She relaxed incrementally. “But they’ll want me to go back to Earth.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Eventually, yes. After debriefing. After ensuring the rift gate is properly secured.”
“And you?” Her voice dropped lower, something vulnerable entering her gaze. “What happens to you after all this?”
I set aside the holo-slate, no longer interested in the blinking notifications from Command. Instead, I placed both hands on her shoulders, feeling the delicate bones beneath my palms, the strength in her small frame.
“I meant what I said before,” I told her, holding her gaze. “I will follow Legion protocol for fate mates. I will escort you home. I will remain on Terra Prime as long as you wish me to stay.”
“As what? My alien boyfriend? My intergalactic roommate?” There was humor in her tone, but uncertainty in her eyes.
“As whatever you need me to be,” I answered honestly. “I can serve as Legion liaison to Terra Prime. Official first contact representative. Or...” I hesitated, searching for the right words.
“Or?” she prompted.
“Or simply yours,” I finished quietly. “In whatever capacity you desire.”
Something softened in her expression. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on my chest, fingers curling into the material of my tactical gear.
“I want you to come home with me,” she said, the words simple but weighted with meaning. “Not as a representative or a liaison or whatever official title the Legion gives you. Just as Lor. My Lor.”
My tail curled involuntarily at her words, a physical reaction to the possessive pronoun that pleased something primal inside me.My Lor.
“Then that is what I shall be,” I promised.
The jungle pulsed around us, the bioluminescent flora brightening in response to our exchange. Phil extended further, wrapping gently around both our ankles, connecting us physically as our bond connected us spiritually.
“Will the jungle be okay?” Miri asked, glancing around at the living network that had become her ally. “Without you here to protect it?”
“The jungle protected itself long before I arrived,” I told her. “And after Vaskari’s capture, Legion Command will increase security here. There will be others like me. Perhaps not as...personally invested in its wellbeing, but trained to respect and preserve it.”
She nodded, then looked back at the cryopod where Vaskari lay in suspended animation. “He really thought he could control all this. Harvest it. Own it.”
“Many have tried,” I said, following her gaze. “All have failed.”
“Good.” Her expression hardened momentarily, then softened as she turned back to me. “So...fifty minutes now?”
I checked the holo-slate’s timer. “Forty-seven.”
“And what exactly does a Legion Reaper do with forty-seven minutes of downtime after completing a mission?” Her smile turned mischievous, a hint of heat entering her gaze.
My body responded instantly to the implication in her voice, my temperature rising, my senses sharpening to focus entirely on her. The scent of her—adrenaline and victory and desire—filled my lungs, making my pulse quicken.
“Traditionally,” I said, keeping my voice deliberately level despite the fire building in my veins, “mission completion is followed by mission report preparation.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Sounds boring.”
“Exceedingly,” I agreed, stepping closer until our bodies nearly touched. “I find I prefer Terran traditions in this instance.”
“And what tradition would that be?”
“I believe you call it the ‘victory kiss’.”
