Every part of Khar hurt.
His entire body had reshaped itself to adapt biologically to his chosen one. The Divani were admired across the Registered Spacefaring Species not only for their prowess in battle, but also for their reproductive potential. Like all drastic transformations, this one demanded time and an enormous amount of energy.
Khar slept for nearly seven chrono-cycles straight, waking only long enough to shovel down a dozen calorie spheres washed down with a pitcher of water.
When he finally came to, the process was not fully complete, but the worst of it was behind him.
And he was stronger.
Much stronger.
The Divani had not become apex specimens on their homeworld by chance. The ability to overwrite their own biological blueprint, adapt themselves to a partner of another species, and then produce viable, fertile offspring was nothing short of a biological miracle. Not a unique one, perhaps, but a miracle all the same.
As with most evolutionary advantages, this one came with costs.
Once a Divani chose a mate, devotion followed with near-fanatical intensity. He would protect his chosen partner even at his own expense. And after imprinting, he would be incapable of reproduction with anyone else.
Such loyalty was common among sentient species.
Among the Divani, however, mate selection was constrained by another rule: neither the weakest nor the undefeated strongest could reproduce.
The first limitation was obvious. The second baffled scholars across the galaxy. The explanation that made the most sense to Khar was genetic diversification. Preventing the strongest from flooding the gene pool ensured survival.
In any case, producing offspring had never been part of Khar’s plans. That did not mean he had denied himself pleasure. It simply meant that the chase and the act had always felt hollow.
Until Lily.
His wonderful little Lily.
Now that he had time to confront himself, he understood that his fixation had not been accidental. From the very firstmoment, she had unsettled him. He had explained it away as something else. The more interesting and attractive she became, the more his instincts reframed her as an opponent.
Old habits died hard.
But once imprinting began, there was no more running.
And when he was finally honest with himself, the truth was brighter than any star. He had fallen for her completely, irrevocably, obsessively. For this creature who appeared fragile and proved anything but.
Khar appreciated the irony. Lily had turned him from undefeated to defeated. And through that loss, he had become stronger than he had ever dared imagine.
His muscles, skin, bones, even his horns felt denser and harder, as though he now wore armor from the inside out.
He was certain he could handle at least three versions of his former self. He was also certain that he could now overpower Lily with ease.
The amusing part was that strength no longer mattered.
It was simply a tool to make Lily happy.
It certainly did not hurt that her sitting on his face while he worshiped her with his tongue would probably not crush his skull. There were worse and less honorable ways for a warrior to die.
Still, he was not planning for a single night.
He was relieved to discover that, by all indications, he and Lily were already sexually compatible. He had worried that he might wake from metamorphosis missing a critical anatomical feature, or discover that humans preferred to take their partners in ways unfamiliar to him. Truthfully, even that would not have been a deal-breaker. Some species had males who carried offspring.
Old Khar would have ejected himself into space at the thought.
New Khar only wondered how best to please Lily.
With his own, largely unchanged anatomy.
