“Hm.” Tess looked back down at the records, shuffling through a stack of ship manifests. “Because you wanted to?”
“Of course it was because I wanted to.”
“Good.” A pause. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She settled onto the furs across from her, tucking her gown around her legs. “He would never hurt me, Tess. You know that by now.”
“I know he hasn’t yet.” The words were flat, matter-of-fact, stripped of accusation. Tess wasn’t attacking Njkall—she was simply stating what she believed to be true of the universe. That kindness was temporary. That safety was an illusion. That sooner or later, everyone wanted something you didn’t want to give.
She understood. She’d believed those things too, once. Some small part of her still did.
“He’s different,” she said quietly.
“They always seem different.” Tess set aside a manifest and picked up another, scanning it with quick, efficient eyes. “Until they’re not.”
“Tess—”
“I’m not trying to argue with you.” Tess’s voice softened slightly. “You’ve been here longer than me. You know him better than I do. If you trust him, that’s your choice.” She looked up, meeting Polly’s eyes. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I do.”
Last night had been her choice. Every moment of it, from the first kiss to the last trembling breath. She’d wanted Njkall, and she’d reached for him, and he’d given her exactly what she asked for.
She picked up another manifest, but her thoughts kept returning to the previous night—and the night to come.
“Polly.” Tess’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You’re not reading.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I was thinking.”
“About him.”
“About a lot of things.”
Tess was quiet for a moment, sorting through manifests with the methodical precision she brought to everything. Then, without looking up, she said, “I’ve been thinking too. About what comes next. About Sherae, or wherever I end up.”
“And?”
“And I know one thing for certain.” Tess’s jaw tightened. “I will never belong to anyone again. Not a person. Not a place. Not a… whatever these Hothians call it when they bond. Never.”
Tess’s words seemed to echo through the cave.
I will never belong to anyone again.
She understood. Gods, how she understood. The fierce, desperate need to own herself, to be the sole author of her choices, to never again be a thing that someone else possessed. She’d felt it every day since her rescue. She felt it now, coiling tight around her ribs, making it hard to breathe.
And even though she knew—knew—that Njkall would never cage her or control her or take away her choices… part of her heard Tess’s words and thought,Yes. That’s what I’m afraid of too.
Sex was something she could choose once. A single night, a single decision, and she could walk away in the morning if she changed her mind. It was terrifying and vulnerable and overwhelming, but it was also bounded. Contained. An experience with a beginning and an end.
Letting Njkall claim her as his mate was different.
The Hothians regarded the mate bond as permanent. Unbreakable. A connection that would tie her to Njkall for the rest of her life, that would make her his in a way she’d never been anyone’s before. She knew it wasn’t ownership, knew he would never treat her as property, knew the bond was supposed to be a partnership of equals. But the permanence of it…
What if I change?she thought suddenly.What if he changes? What if the bond traps us both in something that stops working?
What if she woke up one day and realized she’d given away the freedom she’d fought so hard to reclaim?
“Polly?” Tess was watching her now, frowning. “Are you all right?”
