A flush of deeper green spread across his cheeks. “I apologize. It was inappropriate?—”
“I didn’t say I minded.”
He went very still.
She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm, feeling the slight nubbed texture of his skin beneath her palm. Warm. She always expected him to feel cold, like the snakes she’d handled during her biology rotations in grad school. But he ran hot, almost feverish compared to human baseline.
“You look at me like…” She trailed off, searching for words. “Like I matter.”
“You do matter.” His voice had dropped to a low rumble that she felt as much as heard. “More than I have words to express.”
“Most men look at me and see a collection of parts. Or they did, before.” She laughed softly. “Now I’m a mother. Mothers are supposed to be sexless, didn’t you know? We exist to nurture and sacrifice. Wanting things for ourselves is selfish.”
“That is foolish.”
“It’s how a lot of humans think.”
His tail uncurled and slid towards her, the tip brushing against her hip before winding around to rest at the small of her back. The touch was light, almost tentative, but it sent shivers racing up her spine.
“Among the Cire, a mother is considered the most desirable of females. She has proven her strength, her fertility, and her ability to create and sustain life.” His head tilted, those dark eyes studying her face. “When I look at you with Robbie, I see beauty. And a warrior’s heart.”
God help me, she thought. How is he real?
“That’s quite the line,” she managed.
“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”
The certainty in his voice undid something inside her. A knot lodged somewhere behind her sternum, suddenly loosened and let go. She leaned into him, resting her head against his broad shoulder. His arm came around her immediately, pulling her closer, and his tail tightened around her waist.
They sat like that for a while, wrapped in comfortable silence. Robbie’s soft breathing filled the cell, a gentle counterpoint to the thrum of environmental systems beyond the walls. For a few precious moments, she let herself pretend they were somewhere else. Somewhere safe.
“We should sleep,” she murmured eventually.
“You should sleep,” he corrected. “I can keep watch.”
She shifted, looking up at him. “Stay with me. Here.”
His breath caught audibly. “Melissa…”
“I’m not asking you to do anything inappropriate. Just…” Her cheeks heated again. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
He studied her for a long moment, something warring behind his eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded.
They rearranged themselves awkwardly, trying to fit two adult bodies onto a mattress designed for one. Eventually they settled with his on his back, one arm extended across the pillow, while she curled against his side with her head on his chest. His tail wound around her hip, anchoring her against him.
“Comfortable?” His voice vibrated through his chest, rumbling against her ear.
“Surprisingly, yes.” She could feel his heartbeat beneath his skin, an odd syncopated rhythm. “How many hearts do you have?”
“Just one. But I have superior cardiovascular endurance.”
She snorted. “Is that a boast?”
“Merely a statement of biological fact.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and tipped her head back to look at him. In the dim light, the darker markings on his skin had taken on a deeper shade of emerald, almost black. His eyes were still fixed on her, still hungry, but there was tenderness there too.
“Goodnight, Becsul,” she whispered.
