Page 72 of Secretly Abducted
Just us, just the aftermath of rain and pleasure, just the quiet contentment of being exactly where we belong.
Chapter Seventeen
Vel'aan
Three months later, we wake before dawn, as always. Alex groans and burrows deeper into my side, his warm feet seeking mine under the blanket as he pulls me closer.
"Too early," he mumbles into my shoulder, but he's already kissing the skin there.
"The zhik'ra doesn't care."
"The zhik'ra is patient." His hand trails down my chest. "Five more minutes?"
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
"And it was the best twenty minutes." He grins against my skin. "Want another twenty?"
I laugh, pulling him on top of me. "We'll be late."
"We're always late. That's why we wake up early." He kisses me properly now, slow and deep. "Besides, I like starting the day with you."
Eventually, we do get up. Alex pads naked to the kitchen while I find our work clothes—his are more patches than original fabric now, but he refuses to get new ones. Says they're finally comfortable.
"Want some?" He offers me the bowl of cold rice he's eating with his fingers.
"There's proper breakfast."
"This is perfect." He feeds me a bite, then licks the rice off my lips. "See? Delicious."
The water, when we reach it, is cold enough to shock but Alex whoops as he jumps in—his morning ritual of joy that still makes me smile.
"Fuck, that's refreshing!" He surfaces, grinning. "Race you to Section A?"
He's still a terrible swimmer, but his enthusiasm is infectious. I let him get a head start, then easily catch up, swimming beneath him to run my hands along his legs. He kicks at me, laughing.
The sky is just starting to lighten as we reach Section A—that grey pre-dawn that makes everything look soft and dreamlike. We can see well enough to work, though the deeper water is still black beneath us.
The work is routine—check the storm damage from two nights ago, clear tangled growth, replant where needed. I dive deep to check anchors while Alex handles the surface work, his hands steady and sure in the dim light.
When the sun finally rises properly, we're already three sections in. Alex floats on his back for a moment, letting the warmth hit his face. I notice the new definition in his shoulders, the way months of swimming have changed his body. He's still soft in places—his stomach, his thighs—but there's strength there now that wasn't before.
"Better," he sighs.
I surface next to him after checking another anchor. "The deep lines held."
"Good." He's not really listening, just floating. I watch him—the way the early light turns his skin golden, the way his chest rises and falls, the scatter of bruises on his throat from last night.
A communication alert sounds from the platform. We both look.
"Probably Finn," Alex says, swimming over to check. "Yeah, dinner next week. All of us." He looks at me. "Want to go?"
"Do you?"
He thinks about it while treading water. "Maybe? I like Finn. And Tev'ra makes me laugh. But..." He swims back to me. "I also like our quiet evenings."
"We could go for an hour," I suggest. "Show our faces, eat, leave early."
"Perfect." He kisses me quickly. "See? We're getting good at this compromise thing."
