I turn my head slightly, enough to look back at him. And then I have to stop myself from smiling.
Because Varek—who can face down a queen without blinking, who commands an entire rebellion like it is anextension of himself—looks, for the first time since I’ve known him, genuinely uncomfortable.
“You tell me,” I say, my voice still rough with sleep but already picking up with interest. “You’re the one with the enhanced senses.”
His gaze drops briefly, then returns to my face. His jaw clenches as if he is choosing his words carefully. “I can scent it,” he says.
I blink. “You can scent… what, exactly?”
“Your arousal,” he says plainly.
I stare at him for a second before dragging a hand over my face even as I feel a flush spread across my chest. “Fantastic,” I mutter. “That’s just brilliant.”
The situation is ridiculous. Mortifying, if I think about it too hard. But the directness of how he says it—so unfiltered—takes the edge off the embarrassment before it can fully settle.
“So you just decided to call it out?” I ask, lips twitching as I glance back at him.
“I did not call it out,” he replies. “I asked what you were doing.”
“That counts,” I shoot back, but there’s zero bite in my tone. “There’s such a thing as tact.”
“It would be a lie to ignore it.”
I pause because it’s not what I expected him to say. “You could have just said nothing,” I point out.
“That would still be avoidance of truth.”
I study him more closely now, something clicking into place. “Wait,” I say slowly. “You’re telling me you literally can’t lie to me?”
The answer comes without hesitation. “Yes.”
I let out a short breath, somewhere between disbelief and reluctant amusement. “That seems like a design flaw,” I say. “Or a very specific kind of problem.”
“It is not a flaw,” Varek replies calmly. “It is the nature of what we are.”
“As mates?” I repeat, testing the word even now.
“Yes.”
The certainty in his voice lands differently than it would have not that long ago. There’s no pressure in it, no demand. Just truth, offered without expectation.
I shift again, more deliberately this time, and turn around so I’m facing him fully.
The movement is careful, measured, but easier than it should be. When I settle, we’re close enough that I can see the subtle changes in his expression, the way his eyes track me, the way his body holds tension just beneath the surface.
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth, then rises again.
I notice. It’s impossible not to. And something that’s been quiet for far too long responds. “All right,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “Let’s test this whole honesty thing.”
Varek watches me, wary now in a way that feels almost… anticipatory. “What do you wish to know?”
I let my gaze drift deliberately, taking him in with the same attention he has been giving me since I woke. The curves of his horns catch the low light. The lines of his face are more defined up close, more alien and yet somehow more familiar than they should be.
“So,” I say, letting my tone stay light even as something deeper hums underneath it, “waking up next to me feels like what?”
He goes very still. For a moment, I think he might refuse to answer. Then he exhales slowly. “Dangerous,” he says.
I raise a brow. “Dangerous,” I repeat. “That’s what you’re going with?”
