She looked away, and he thought he saw a faint color rise in her cheeks. Interesting. Humans displayed their emotional states so openly, their skin changing color with their moods. It was… endearing.
“I spoke to the scientist,” he said, before the silence could stretch into awkwardness. “About the procedure.”
Her head snapped back towards him, all trace of softness gone.
“And?”
“It will be done by injection. An injection to prepare you, followed by a second injection containing the male’s genetic material.” He forced himself to say the words clinically, the way Veyalor had. “No surgery. No… no physical contact beyond the medical procedures.”
Something shifted in her expression. Relief mixed with residual anger.
“So I’ll be a test tube. Not a broodmare. That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. Nothing about this should make you feel better. But I thought…” He stopped, struggling to find words for what he thought. “I thought you deserved to know. So you wouldn’t have to imagine worse.”
She was quiet for a moment, studying him with those strange dark eyes. Then she let out a breath that seemed to carry some of the tension from her shoulders.
“Thank you. For finding out. For telling me.”
“I also arranged for you to go outside,” he said eagerly. “There is a training courtyard on the east side of the facility. It’s enclosed but open to the sky. If you would like…”
“Yes.” The word was immediate, fervent. “God, yes. Please.”
Warmth spread through his chest at her response. Such a small thing, access to fresh air, but to her it was clearly precious. He would give her a hundred small things if he could. A thousand.
“There is one complication,” he said. “Your son.”
Her arms immediately tightened around the child.
“I’m not leaving Robbie behind.”
“I would not ask you to. But the paths are uneven and you cannot carry him easily while walking the grounds.” He hesitated, then made himself say it. “I could carry him. If you would permit it.”
The silence stretched between them. He watched her face as she weighed the options—her desperate need for fresh air against her reluctance to let anyone touch her child.
“You were gentle with him before,” she said finally. “He seemed to like you.”
“He is a good baby. Calm. Patient.” Like his mother, he thought but did not say.
“Fine.” She stood, still holding the child close. “But if he fusses, he comes straight back to me.”
“Of course.”
The transfer was easier this time. Robbie blinked up at him with those wide, dark eyes, then seemed to decide that the situation was acceptable and settled against his chest with a small sigh.
This is what I was meant to do. Protect them. Both of them. Whatever it takes.
He gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”
The training courtyard had once been the heart of the facility, the place where young Cire had learned to fight and to honor the ancient traditions of their people. Now it stood empty and silent, the training equipment long since removed, the stone worn smooth by countless feet that would never walk here again.
But the sky was still the same, a clear pale blue overhead, fading to lavender towards the horizon as nightfall approached. And the air—clean, crisp, carrying the scent of the wilderness beyond the facility walls—was unchanged.
She stopped in the center of the courtyard and tilted her face towards the sky. Her eyes closed, and she drew in a deep breath, her whole body seeming to unfurl with the simple pleasure of being outside.
He watched her, unable to look away. The fading light caught in her hair, turning the dark brown strands to bronze and gold. Her skin, so much softer than his own, seemed to glow in the sunset. She was beautiful. Achingly, impossibly beautiful.
Stop,he told himself.She’s a prisoner. She’s frightened and alone and I’m one of the people keeping her here. Whatever I feel, it’s not fair to her.
