Dekkir (Galaxy Alien Warriors #1)(23)

Then a treasure: during my internship on Mars, I had finally gained my own living capsule, with no roommates. Sweet solitude. Granted, the capsule had been small, but it had been mine. Finally, a similar living capsule awaited me on Lyra’s third moon, where our Earth base was located. And then, eighteen months and two weeks later, this room, hollowed out of living wood by unknown means within the gigantic tree that served as Lyran master healer Neyilla’s hospice. This time, however, I was back to sharing space with another person. The difference was, this time, I wouldn’t have traded that for anything.

I could hear Dekkir breathing softly in sleep behind me. We had exhausted each other again. I smiled slowly, remembering why exactly I was a mix of slack-muscled and slightly sore. I had already known Lyrans tended to have higher sex drives than humans, but Dekkir was something else again. Once he got started, he didn’t let go until both of us were so completely satisfied that we couldn’t do anything but sleep. It was interfering with my training a little bit, but fortunately, Neyilla didn’t seem to mind much.

Ever since I had deliberately exposed myself to the Lyran symbiont known as the Golden Strain, Dekkir and I had joined as what the Lyrans called True Mates. Before that, I had not been psychically aware enough to understand why it was that Dekkir had become so infatuated with me on our first meeting. Once the Strain had inoculated my body and awakened the psychic receptors in my brain, I hadn’t just known what he had gone through; I started feeling it for myself. We didn’t quite do everything together, since, after all, I was still undergoing training and he still had messages to run back and forth to the capital at Highfort. But as my body and mind adjusted to the symbiont and to the new mating, I found it uncomfortable to be without him for very long.

No one at Neyilla’s sanctuary, including the healer herself, could explain to me how it was that a purebred Lyran nobleman had somehow imprinted on a human instead of one of his own kind. Like many things about the planet, its culture, and my mission there in general, it remained a mystery. Nor could anyone explain to me how it was that once I accepted the symbiont myself, I immediately imprinted on him in return. The idea of such intimacy had frightened me before now. I simply had not had the capacity to be receptive for it. But once it had been accomplished, I had started . . . changing. And now, nothing felt more right.

I rolled over in the circle of his arms and looked up at Dekkir as he snoozed away in happy exhaustion. I never got tired of looking at him. He wasn’t just bigger than any human I had ever seen—he was beautiful. He had strong, sharp features, very close to human but on a larger scale, and huge hands that clutched at me gently as his heart beat slowly against my breasts. Smooth, pale skin gleamed over hard muscle in the faint light from the single night lantern as his broad chest rose and fell. His hair was long and silky and almost white, tangles of it falling across one high cheekbone as he dreamed away.

Now that I understood the power of the feelings he had been fighting, I realized just how patient he had been with me back when I hadn’t been able to feel the same thing in return. Since then, he had seemed determined to make up for lost time. I could feel his contentment right now, his emotions brushing up against my own and strengthening those we had in common. It was more intense than being in love had ever been for me before. Sometimes, like the rest of my adjustment period, it did frighten me a little bit. But all I had to do was look at his face and feel the happiness radiating from him, even in his sleep, and I knew I had made the right decision.

My skin was starting to itch from all the sweat that had dried on it. Slipping free of his arms reluctantly, I stood and moved somewhat stiffly over to the shower pod at the far end of the room. I had to lean against the wall inside the pod as I rinsed off. I could feel the marks he had left on me: hickeys, little scratches, and finger bruises where he had lost control of his strength. The water made them sting, and that made me smile. I loved it when he lost control a little because of what I was doing to him.

Grace, are you there? Can you hear me?

The voice in my head sounded familiar, but I was still more used to hearing it from my communications earpiece. Chief Science Officer John Stirling had been my instructor and mission commander for most of my visit to the Lyran system. He was not technically my immediate superior, but he did most of the job, as the man actually responsible for that was . . . not very responsible. He was also the one who had recommended first that I inoculate myself with the Golden Strain. He had not made the decision blindly; before any of this had happened, during his own stay on Lyra as a cultural representative, he had apparently inoculated himself in secret.

I’m here. I just woke up. Hope I didn’t leave you waiting.

I didn’t know how long he had lived with the Golden Strain in his system. Over a year? Several months? He had hidden its presence from everyone, including wearing undetectable realistic-colored contacts to hide irises that the symbiont always stained a metallic gold. The Lyrans, particularly Neyilla, called him Tabirus. Apparently, he was well known among some on the planet, and not just as the human representative of two years. I had no idea Stirling had “gone native.” No one had. It was a mystery to me that, given his newfound close connection to the planet, he hadn’t chosen to stay here. Instead, he had taken the job of chief science officer and returned to base, leaving the task of approaching the planetary leaders to a subordinate: me.

No, no. I pretty much just woke up myself. I wanted to check in with you. I know the adjustment period can be somewhat disorienting.