“Yes,” I admit. “She left something in the lab. I told her she could come by and get it.”
“Is she okay?”
I walk to her bedside and crouch. “She’s going through something a little unusual, physiologically speaking. We’re running tests to help her figure it out.”
Solvi studies me, her lids heavy but her brow furrowed. “She’s not dying or something, right?”
“No,” I say firmly. “Nothing like that. She’s healthy. Just…experiencing some changes. And we’re being very careful.”
Her fingers twist into Flicker’s fur. The drakon doesn’t blink. I swear her eyes narrow in warning.
“Areyouokay?” Solvi asks next. “You look weird.”
I laugh under my breath. “I’m tired, that’s all.”
“Okay,” she murmurs. She yawns, and I can tell she’s already flagging. “Just…tell her hi for me, okay?”
“I will, blossom,” I reply, smoothing her tendrils back. “Good night.”
“‘Night, Baba.”
I linger a moment longer, letting my hand rest against her crown, smoothing one tendril down, then another. She leans into it instinctively, eyes already closing again, and Flicker lets out a low huff that almost sounds like a warning not to push my luck.
“Calm down,” I mutter do the drakon.
She just huffs another breath and closes her eyes.
I rise and back quietly out of the room, easing the door closed until only a sliver of light spills into the gap. Then I’m going back to my room…to the end of the hall I can feel Lyn’s presence behind the door, scent her…rich and sweet and burning. I don’t know what I’m about to walk into. I don’t know if I’m going to let it happen…or if I’ll be strong enough to stop it.
I open the door.
She’s standing at the foot of the bed, looking around at my space. It’s plain, utilitarian, tidy—more like a lab than a sleeping area. The bed is neatly made, the walls white, a single photograph of me and Solvi on the bedside table.
I close the door behind me and Lyn swallows hard, breath hitching.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I um…I didn’t mean to wake her.”
“It’s a likely outcome when you show up to a father’s home in the middle of the night,” I reply.
“Guess so,” she laughs, her teeth snagging on her lip.
I cross my arms and look at her, eyes narrowed. “I would ask you why you’re here, but you made that quite clear.”
She fidgets, hands tugging the hem of her hoodie like she’s realizing—belatedly—that this may have been a mistake. Hercheeks flush again, her posture shifting somewhere between defiance and embarrassment. I can see the strain at her temples, the tension at the corner of her mouth.
But she doesn’t back down.
“I still meant it,” she says. “I’m here because I want you. I want you to help me come, yeah, but also…” Her voice softens. “I trust you. And you said you’d check in. And I just—I didn’t want to be alone with this.”
“You’ve never been alone in this.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes a little. “I mean…I kind of am. I’m the one who seems to have an uncontrollable reaction to you. Embarrassing, but…but it feels better when you’re touching me.”
I study her a moment, long enough for her to squirm.
“I’m not sure you understand what you’re inviting,” I say. “You think you’re the only one having a reaction?”
She blinks at that.
