Page 45 of Fated to the Dragon Alien

She finished the first plate quickly and reached for a second helping of whatever mystery substance the food was made of. “Do you know what this is?”

“Not exactly.” He shrugged. “It labeled itself as meal 14-C. It’s replicated from proteins and…hmm. I can find out, if you’d like.”

“Not necessary.” She held up her full spoon with reverence. “14-C is officially a wonder.”

“You can have it whenever you want,” he said. “And any of the other food selections.”

She looked at him with more weight in her stare now. “I might take you up on that.”

They ate in near peace after that—the scrape of metal flatware, the rustle of his wings, and the unfamiliar rhythm of shared space. It was strange, but wondrous.

Stavian flexed his hands under the table. He knew the conversation that had to come next. The one he dreaded. He set his utensil down. Leaned back.

“There’s something I should say before this goes any further,” he told her. “And I’d rather say it before I lose the nerve.”

She paused mid-chew and looked at him like she was bracing herself. “Go ahead.”

He stared down at the table, fingers lightly curled. Every memory rose at once—training cycles, rank reviews, watching fear walk across a thousand faces that never looked back at him like she did. “I don’t know how to be with someone,” he said.

She blinked, staying still.

He steeled himself and forced the words out. “I’ve never been in any kind of relationship. Not physical, not emotional. I’ve had orders, structure, directives. But connections with others weren’t part of that.” He raised his eyes slowly, locking onto hers. “Not until you.”

Cerani’s chest rose. She didn’t flinch or look away, but gazed back at him, willing him to go on.

“I don’t want to mess this up. Or make decisions from a place that still feels like command,” he added, forcing more air into tight lungs. “So I’m saying clearly—until we’re both free of the Axis, I expect nothing from you. Physically.”

She blinked, swallowed. A subtle shift in her breathing. “Okay.”

His hands curled lightly around the edge of the table. “I want our joining to be yours as much as mine,” he said. “I’ve never touched anyone the way I want to touch you, and I want the first time to be outside of systems and ranks and Axis authority.”

She paused long enough that doubt started crawling up his spine. Perhaps she found his lack of experience disappointing, or worse, thought he’d hurt her. But then she set her fork down and leaned back with her arms folded under the sleeves of his tunic. Her mouth curved into the first wide, full smile he’d seen her make. Her cheeks lifted and her eyes twinkled. “Good.”

“Good?” He hadn’t meant to let the question slip—not like that—but her response had caught him off guard. What did that mean? Good. It could mean anything.

“Yes. Good.” She closed her eyes and looked away as color darkened her cheeks. “I’m sitting in your quarters, wearing your shirt and nothing else. I’d say we’re quite outside the system of ranks and Axis authority.” She raised one arched brow. “Unless you plan to put me back in the mines?”

“No,” he said harshly. “You’ll never go back there. And the miners—”

She held up her forefinger, and he fell quiet. “I want to hear your plan. Later.”

“Later?” He was still recovering from the effects of that smile. He wanted to give her more than what this place allowed. More than what it had stripped from her cycle after cycle. Andfekit all, he wanted to make her smile every cycle.

“I’ve been someone’s property since the day I was born.” Her fingers tensed around the plate, then slowly relaxed. “My bondmate never asked what I wanted. He expected me to obey and keep his house running. And when I didn’t—or couldn’t—he punished me. He’d deny me food, make me work without sleep, and sometimes used his fists. When he died, I thought I’d get to breathe a little easier. But instead, I got hauled to a system prison and chained again.”

“I’d like to revive him from death and kill him again.” He kept his voice quiet, but he could hear the menace in his ownvoice. How anyone could treat this precious female in such a way defied all reason.

“I’m…stars, Stavian. No killing on my behalf, please,” she replied.

That was a request he couldn’t promise to grant. “I’d do much worse than kill for you, Cerani,” he said softly, and considered her surprised flush a win.

“Don’t distract me, I’m trying to get to my point,” she said, moving the conversation away from killing. “I care about you more than I thought I could care about anyone—” her voice faltered just long enough for him to see how difficult these words were for her to say, “—and I’m done being a prisoner.”

Now, it was his turn. “Good.”

She lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “I don’t want you to think I’m throwing logic out the air lock, but…”

Ah, his Cerani. Ever the pragmatist. A smile crept up the edges of his mouth—slow, surprised, but impossible to hold back.

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