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She stirred slightly just to change positions.
“Twyla, wake up.”
I shook her by the shoulder and her eyes blinked open, blearily focusing on my crouched form.
“Hi, Cedra Holloway.”
Her voice was a sleep-laden breathy purr; my name on her lips landed like a punch to my gut.
I cleared my throat. “It’s time for dinner.”
“In a minute,” she protested, burrowing deeper into the soft synthi-cotton pillow. “You should join me.”
Although I knew she was talking in her sleep, the idea of sliding in next to her, pulling her soft bottom against me and letting her scent surround us was a very tempting idea. I swallowed the thick longing in my throat and kept a short distance between us.
“Did you forget to make dinner?” I asked her instead.
“What?” came the bleary reply.
“Dinner—did you forget?”
She awoke with a start, hair wild around her face, eyes wide. A small part of me regretted waking her from such a peaceful nap. In that moment, there was an insistent pounding I could feel near my temples, just behind my eyes. It didn’t hurt, but it felt...odd.
“Oh gods, did I oversleep?” she asked, tugging at the loose curls around her face.
“Yes. It’s past dusk.”
She bit her plump bottom lip, as though considering her words.
“I’m a horrible replacement for a bot, aren’t I?” she said softly.
The urge to reassure and protect was overwhelming. I wanted to gather her in my arms and let her melt into my body. I wanted to feel her breath on my skin as I held her close, telling her it was all right. It was just a mistake and I didn’t mind.
“Let’s make dinner together,” I found myself saying instead.
She nodded, still biting her lower lip.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to watch a few cooking docu-vids to learn how to make something special for dinner.”
I said nothing.
She unfolded herself from the sofa and righted the pillows, fluffing them up in a very feminine action. Where had that gene gone when I was created? It wouldn’t even occur to me to place pillows on a sofa, let alone fluff them.
When she turned around, she took a deep breath.
“Are you going to ask me to leave?”
The words came out in a rush, as though she wanted to get them out before she lost her nerve. Her interlocking fingers looked painful.
I thought about the disappointment I’d felt just minutes ago when I’d assumed she’d left. My gut twisted into a painful knot.
The last thing I wanted her to do was leave. She was...too special. I knew it from the way my body reacted to her blood. Not every Fanger was lucky enough to come across a person whose DNA completed them. And here I was, looking at a soft beauty whose blood called to me, just as my body called to hers. How could she ask me if I wanted her gone?
Riane hadn’t been my Blood Mate but we’d been happy for almost a decade. Sometimes, I thought that perhaps if we’d been bonded by more than just love, she wouldn’t have been able to leave me so callously. That our bond would’ve been much too deep to sever.
The odd pounding was back again; I felt it keenly behind my eyelids. This time, there was a slight staccato.
Twyla was a Royal, born and raised—it would be so stupid to invest any true feelings for her. Why would she find happiness on an old farm on an isolated Star? It was ridiculous. I was just setting myself up for heartbreak... It would be Riane all over again.
