Page 31 of Human Required
A hot tear slid down my face. Then another.
“He never told me,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “He died during the attack on our field hospital. I never knew he was?—”
“A hero,” Aeon finished.
The dam broke. Sobs racked my body as two years of grief I’d never fully processed poured out. Ben fought for something he believed in—the humanity of these beings I’d been taught were just machines. And he died before fully realizing his efforts had been successful. But I somehow survived and I could see it now—the emerging humanity in the cyborgs of Planet Alpha.
Suddenly, I felt strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against a solid chest. Aeon held me with a gentleness that contradicted his powerful frame, one large hand cradling the back of my head while I cried.
“Ben would’ve loved it here,” I managed between sobs. “He would’ve been so proud of what you’ve built.”
Aeon’s chest rose and fell against my cheek. “I didn’t realize Benjamin Reeves was someone personal to you. I’m sorry for your loss, Olivia.”
I pulled back slightly to look up at him, suddenly aware of how close we were, how his arms encircled me completely. His blue eyes held an intensity that made my heart race.
“If Ben believed in you all to risk everything,” I whispered, “then the least I can do is help you live.”
Something had shifted between us during this moment of comfort, the wall that I’d built since my arrival crumbling. Through my lingering tears, I noticed the way his blue eyes searched my face with concern, and how his thumb gently brushed away my tears.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For telling me about Ben. For...” I gestured vaguely at his arms still around me. “This.”
Aeon didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand came up to tuck my hair behind my ear, the gesture so tender it made my breath catch.
“I’m not good with...” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Human comfort. But I couldn’t watch you cry alone.”
My anger at being kidnapped still simmered somewhere deep inside, but alongside it grew something new. Admiration. Attraction. The realization that he knew exactly what I needed without being told.
“You’re more human than you give yourself credit for,” I said.
His eyes darkened. “Is that a compliment, Dr. Parker?”
The teasing note in his voice made something flutter in my stomach. How could I be developing feelings for my captor? For someone I should, by all rights, hate? But it wasn’t hate I felt as I studied the sharp line of his jaw, the small scar above his eyebrow, and the full lips that looked surprisingly soft on such a formidable face.
“It is,” I admitted, my voice barely audible, even to my own ears.
Through the dome of the archives, the alien moons cast silver light across his features. Beyond the window, the colony’s lights sparkled against the jungle’s edge—a small city of hope carved from wilderness.
Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
The moment our lips touched, electricity surged through my body. Aeon froze for a heartbeat, and then his hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as he returned the kiss with unexpected hunger.
For someone who had likely never kissed a human, he was remarkably good at it. His lips moved against mine with growing confidence, exploring and tasting. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened to him with a soft gasp.
The kiss deepened, and I found myself clutching the front of his shirt, desperate for more contact. His arm tightened around my waist, nearly lifting me from my chair.
“Olivia,” he breathed against my mouth, my name sounding like a prayer on his lips.
I knew I should pull away and should question this sudden, overwhelming desire. But all rational thought evaporated as his hand tangled in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss even further. I craved more—more of his touch, more of the hard body pressed up against mine, and more of the surprising heat radiating between us.
TWELVE
AEON
The kiss deepened even further as Olivia clutched the front of my shirt tighter. Her fingers gripped the fabric like she was holding on for dear life. My arm tightened around her waist, lifting her slightly from the chair.
“Olivia,” I breathed against her mouth again, her name tasting like something sacred, something I hadn’t earned but couldn’t resist.
My hand tangled further in her hair. I told myself to stop, to pull away. But my body betrayed me, craving more of her—more of her touch, more of her warmth, and more of the electric heat that seemed to ignite every nerve in me.
