The Alien's Equal (Drixonian Warrior #7) - Ella Maven Page 0,18

much sleep tonight. “Call Xavy on your comm,” I said.

“Why?”

“Tell him to have Tab bring us some pula. And snacks. Lots of snacks.” I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s do this.”

When Nero smiled at me, I ignored how his visible pride lit up a glow within in me.

That night, with blurry, dry eyes and a headache that felt nuclear, I didn’t even have the energy to walk to my room. I considered calling one of the girls and asking them to cart my ass to bed, but Nero gently took a hold of my shoulders and steered me toward his furs.

I dug in my heels when I realized what he was doing, but he gave me a quick squeeze with his fingers before letting me go. “I’m not sleeping with you, Justine. You can have my furs all to yourself. But you’re too tired to make it to your room, and we’ll be up early anyway. Just rest.” He pointed to his chair. “I’ll be right there. I sleep in front of my screens most nights anyway.”

For some reason, that news sent a pang of sorrow in my chest. I imagined Nero in his hut alone with the responsibility of the whole clavas on his shoulders as he surveyed his screens. “Doesn’t anyone ever take over that duty for you?”

“What duty?”

“Watching for threats.”

“I don’t have to watch them all the time. I have alerts, but lately I’ve felt it necessary to keep an eye on them too.”

“And no one helps you?”

He stared at me as if that thought never occurred to him. “It’s my duty.”

“Yeah, but when do you sleep? When do you get to just relax?”

He let out a dry laugh. “I don’t relax well.”

“I noticed,” I admitted.

He cocked his head at me in question.

I shrugged. “You’re the calmest of all the warriors, but you’re always alert, always thinking. I think you deserve to be let off the hook every now and then.”

“Are you worried about me?” He didn’t ask in a patronizing way. He sounded genuinely curious.

“Sure,” I answered around the lump in my throat. Today was full of admissions.

“I found happiness every time I was in your presence.” His words sent a piercing arrow right through my boundaries. How did he manage to do that with so few words?

On top of that, all I felt was guilt, because I’d rarely even given him the time of day. “But we never spent a lot of time together.”

“I know,” he said in a low murmur. “But I believed one day that would change.”

I clutched at my shirt over my heart with a groan. “You’re killing me here, Nero.”

He frowned and reached for me. “Are you in pain?”

“No, I—it’s an expression. But why can’t you be a dick? Why do you have to be so nice to me? I haven’t done anything to deserve your kindness.”

Those all-seeing eyes pierced me as he spoke in a careful voice, as if speaking to a scared deer. “I don’t think being mates is about a checklist of what we do for each other.”

He slayed me. How did I tell him that was all I knew? That love in my life was always conditional on how I acted, the words I said, the food I cooked, how often I put out… I shuddered. I didn’t want to think about that life. Not here in the safety of Nero’s hut with his warm purple eyes radiating a feeling I’d never felt before. I swallowed and turned away before crawling into his bed. His furs smelled like him, and I snuggled into the bedding with the thickest fur pulled up to my chin.

I didn’t look at Nero, and he didn’t move for a long time until I heard him toe off his boots before padding over to his chair in his bare feet.

I expected my anxiety to skyrocket since bedtime was when my brain worked overtime replaying everything that had happened during the day. My anxiety loved nothing more than dwelling on the events of the day, rolling them over and over in my mind until they snowballed to exaggerated proportions until it was three in the morning and I’d gotten no sleep. Especially on a day like today, when a lot had happened I hadn’t process yet, I waited for my brain to take off like a hamster on a wheel.

Except it didn’t. From my cocoon in the furs, I could hear Nero’s steady breathing, and his presence stilled the rat race of my mind.

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