Veyalor’s laboratory was past the examination rooms and deeper in the facility, through a maze of corridors that Becsul suspected were designed to be confusing. The doctor was waiting for him when he arrived, seated at a workstation surrounded by screens displaying data he couldn’t begin to interpret.
“Captain.” Veyalor didn’t look up from his work. “I wondered if you would come.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“Not really, no.” The doctor finally turned, his yellow eyes bright with interest. “Sit down, please. We have much to discuss.”
He remained standing. “Speak.”
Veyalor’s mouth curved in what might have been a smile. “Direct, as always. Very well.” He tapped a command into his workstation, and one of the screens shifted to display a wall of text. “You’ve read Pagalan’s research, I assume?”
“Yes, but it seemed… disorganized, and I will admit that much of the terminology was beyond me.”
Another half-smile.
“My uncle was eccentric at best. But I assume you understood enough to know that Pagalan claimed to have used a Cire male to successfully impregnate a non-Cire female. What you may not have realized is the specific conditions under which he achieved this success.” Veyalor leaned forward, his clawed hands folding together. “Pagalan theorized that even with genetically compatible species, the attempt would not produce viable offspring without the mate bond.”
“But that’s impossible if both parties are not Cire.”
“Is it?” Veyalor gestured at the screen. “I’ve been skeptical as well. The mate bond has never been scientifically documented, and there’s no biological mechanism that would explain it. And yet…” He paused, his eyes fixed on Becsul’s face. “And yet I watched you today, Captain. I watched you react to the guard touching that female with a level of protective aggression I’ve only seen in one other context.”
“I was doing my job.”
“You were ready to kill him.” The words were flat, unemotional. “If I hadn’t defused the situation, you would have attacked.”
His hands were shaking. He curled them into fists, forcing himself to breathe. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that perhaps Pagalan was right. Perhaps the mate bond is an actual biological imperative. A specific hormonal and neurological response triggered by contact with a compatible mate.” Veyalor’s voice was calm and clinical, but his eyes werealight with fascination. “I’m saying that you, Captain Becsul, are experiencing the beginning of a mate bond with the human female.”
The words hung in the air between them.
He wanted to deny it, but the memory of her in his arms last night—her warm weight against his chest, her scent filling his lungs, and the overwhelming rightness of holding her—made the denial impossible.
“What does this mean?” he asked finally. “For the experiment?”
“That, Captain, is the question.” Veyalor stood, pacing slowly across the laboratory. “If the mate bond is required for successful reproduction, then the implications are… significant. On one hand, it means there may be hope for your people. If Cire males can bond with human females, and if that bond enables reproduction, then you have a path forward.”
“And on the other hand?”
Veyalor stopped pacing and turned to face him. “On the other hand, it means we cannot simply scale this experiment. We cannot artificially inseminate hundreds of females and expect results. The bond must form naturally. One male, one female, a specific and unpredictable connection.” His expression was grim. “Councilor Naran hoped that if Pagalan’s research proved valid, we could establish multiple breeding programs and create a rapid restoration of your population.”
“But that won’t work.”
“No.” Veyalor shook his head slowly. “If I’m right—if you are what I think you are—then it won’t work at all. We’ll have to find another way.”
His mind was racing, processing the implications. If the mate bond was required and it could only form naturally, then the entire premise of this facility was flawed. They couldn’t force Cire males to bond with human females any more than they could force water to flow uphill.
But it also meant that if what Veyalor was saying was true, then what he felt for Melissa wasn’t just attraction or protectiveness or guilt. It was something deeper. Something biological, fundamental, unbreakable.
It meant she was his.
“Councilor Naran can’t know about this,” he said abruptly. “Not yet. If he realizes the experiments won’t scale, he might?—”
“Decide the females are no longer valuable?” Veyalor finished. “Yes, that thought had occurred to me as well. I also suspect that Naran won’t be easy to convince.” He moved back to his workstation, pulling up a new set of data. “I need more information before I make any reports. More observations. More evidence.”
“What kind of observations?”
Veyalor looked at him, and there was something almost sympathetic in his gaze. “Continue what you’ve been doing, Captain. Spend time with the female. Watch your own reactions.” He paused. “And if a bond is forming… don’t fight it. Let it develop naturally.”
