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“Tally.” He pulls me closer, and I find myself pressing my head to his chest, his steady, beating heart giving me the strength to carry on as he strokes my back.
“No one cared at all, Cato. I was completely alone. I survived, I had to, and I made them proud by being the best I could and focusing on my studies, but it never felt like enough. I still miss them so much.” Tears fill my eyes, and I try to hold them back, but they fall anyway—tears I didn’t shed, even when I found out about their deaths.
I’ve never been able to cry, as if I’m too numb, since I was a teenager forced to grow up way too fast, just like him.
“I have no doubts they would be proud of you, Talia, my human. You are so strong and intelligent. You adapted to survive and strive to make the world a better place. I see it in your kindness and unparalleled strength. It’s normal to miss them,” he murmurs, stroking my back as tears wet my cheeks and his chest, but he says nothing about it. “I’m so sorry you were alone, and I hate that you had to go through that by yourself.”
Sniffling, I pull back slightly, and he cups my cheeks and looks into my eyes before wiping away my tears. “What happened to them?” he finally asks.
“They were killed in an accident,” I whisper. “A stupid freak accident. One minute, they were there, talking about cake for my birthday, and the next, they were gone, and the world was a little less bright and a lot more cold.”
He nods like he understands, and I guess he does.
We are both orphans.
“You are not alone anymore, Tally,” he promises as he leans in. My eyes close without permission as he softly kisses each eyelid. “And I bet they are so very proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I don’t know why, but that makes me cry harder, and he just holds me as I do. This monster, this…this man, who should hate me for simply being human, holds me as I grieve over my parents. He soothes and protects me, holding me so tight, I start to feel safe for the first time in a long time.
Slowly, I begin to settle down, and my cheeks heat, feeling embarrassed by my outburst, so when I pull back, I avoid his eyes and clear my throat. Taking pity on me, he squeezes my hand and lets me go, putting space between us. He probably knows I need it with how raw I am feeling. “How about we eat, and then you can help me with my research?” he offers, and my head jerks up. How did he know that I needed to focus my brain again? To turn back to logic to feel grounded and safe in what I know after that?
He does it too—I see it in his knowing eyes.
“I’d like that,” I murmur.
* * *
After eating in companionable silence, he brings me back to the lab and shows me his current hopes for his research, and I help him with the samples. I’m just checking one over for him when I catch him watching me. He’s not staring at me worriedly, like I might ruin his experiment, but with warmth.
“Thanks for letting me help,” I murmur.
He nods and glances at his own sample.
“At least you don’t think I’m a dumb blonde.” I grin, and he frowns in confusion.
“What does the colour of your fur have to do with your intelligence? Is there a correlation in humans?” he wonders out loud. I can’t help but giggle, and he brightens at the sound.
“No, it’s just a saying.” I roll my eyes. “Human men will use anything to put women down to make themselves feel better.”
He’s quiet for a moment, but a tug on my hair has me turning back to see him combing his fingers through my locks, stroking the strands. “They are idiots. For what it is worth, your hair is beautiful. It makes me think of the sun, as if I can finally see that bright, brilliant beauty trapped in these strands.” He drops my hair and focuses back on his work like he didn’t just melt my panties and heart as I gawk at him.
I never gave much thought about my hair, but now I can’t help but smile, my cheeks warm as I look at it. I wonder what else he likes about me, but I’m too scared to ask.
When he sits back as he checks something over, my eyes catch on my bag, and something inside me drops as I remember why I am here and what I should be doing.
It’s definitely not flirting with Cato.
That’s when I realise I no longer fear him. How strange.
“We will have to wait a few hours for the results,” he tells me, carefully putting away the experiment. He’s totally unaware of my inner debate, but when he looks at me, he frowns. “Tally, what’s wrong?”
I can’t get over that nickname, but I swallow and look from my bag to him. He follows my gaze, and his eyebrow arches. “Did you hear anything about Aria?” I ask, diverting his attention.
He shakes his head, and his eyes go back to the bag. He once asked why I was here, and I owe him that much, despite the fact I shouldn’t tell him. “I was sent here to collect samples from the lab,” I admit. “They left research here. That’s where we were when we were attacked. That’s what’s in the bag.”
“Not all of it,” he murmurs, watching me. “I took some a long time ago.”
My mouth drops open in shock. He unlocks a cupboard and gestures for me to look inside. There are notebooks and frozen vials. I hesitate before grabbing a notebook and flipping through it. “I never knew what any of it meant. I know enough to decipher some of the code in regard to our genetic makeup, but no more. It obviously has to do with how we were created.”
