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“It’s more of a utility.” Taryn watched her explore the rest of the room, lingering next to the table, which already had food on top of it. “The beds can be connected.”
Leah froze, just as she raised her hand to touch one of the plates. “How?”
“Like everything else on Quillon, it runs on intention.” Taryn began walking toward her, steady and slow. “The beds feel when their occupants want to sleep alone or together.”
Leah gulped, and tried to hide it with a small cough. Delightful. But Taryn saw everything. Every small reaction, every little detail.
His training demanded he be vigilant, always. It had only taken a glance for him to get this room; the Quillon downstairs had vinnor stains at the corner of his lips and his gaze had lingered on Taryn’s sigil. The gems on the collar of the male’s tunic had hung a little looser than the rest, so he didn’t pay too much attention to details. The Quillon obviously liked his drink and his money, but wasn’t that particular about it.
Easy negotiation. Taryn had almost done it on instinct.
But Quillon reactions and human reactions were very different things.
Leah’s energy told him very basic notions so far. He knew when she was scared. Apprehensive. Curious. Desirous. But it didn’t tell him why.
At least not yet. He hoped their connection would strengthen soon. Something was keeping that from happening.
Taryn knew he held his energy back, as much as he could. He didn’t want to frighten her with his emotions–and he didn’t know what secret she was hiding, but he sensed it had something to do with him.
He would solve that problem soon.
But he noticed she’d relaxed around him. Her neck muscles weren’t as tight, her shoulders weren’t raised as high, and her lips morphed into easy smiles.
This was comfort and easiness, for Quillons and humans alike. But the rest of her reactions left him questioning.
Gulping, for humans, meant they were afraid, yes? Hesitating? Why would Leah feel either of those right now?
“So the beds just move if we tell them to?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the table.
“They will mesh together if theysensewe want them to.” Taryn tilted his head to the side, regarding her. “Both of us.”
Leah nodded, but still didn’t look at him. She cleared her throat again. Curious. So very curious and intriguing. “So…what’s for dinner?”
“The best Kustume has to offer. These are like some of yourcan-dies.” He nodded at a platter with small, colorful shards. “That bowl has something very similar toso-upin it and those are stikafi..fi-llets? Such a peculiar word.”
Leah laughed and eyed the stika. “Looks like fish. A big, scary fish.”
“Very scary. One stika is twice your size. The Aran river has plenty of them.”
She finally looked up at him. “No swimming in that river, then.”
“The Aran is sacred, we are not allowed to touch it.” Which, by Taryn’s standards, didn’t make sense. Acva was acva, and the Aran had plenty of food. Why not use it resourcefully?
He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. Old habits and thought patterns still managed to crowd his mind when he least expected them. His upbringing hadn’t been fully smothered, it seemed.
None of that. He’d seen that horrid life for what it was and had run away from it.
“Okay, so no swimming with the stikas.” Leah sat down, eyeing the food hungrily. “Is there any special Quillon custom I need to be super mindful of while we’re eating?”
“Not particularly. We share all the food.” He sat down, opposite from her, his gaze trained on her. “And thoughts.”
“Ah. So no silent meals around here.” Leah busied herself with filling up her plate with the shards, and plopping three stika pieces on it, too.
She was particularly thin for a human, from what Taryn had seen in the holo-vids. Was she not getting enough nutrients? The thought slashed through him, gripping his baser instincts. He needed to provide for his Lightmate. She had been wanting, even if it had been before meeting him.
None of that from now on. She would have everything her human heart desired. He’d seen the way she’d looked at the flowers in the Capital and at the gems in Kustume. He’d build her a gem garden if that brought a smile to her face.
“What–what do you usually talk about?” she asked, but it sounded forced.
