says Geddion, looking amused. I get the impression he’d be teasing Turan hard if not for the respect his role as captain demands.
“Yeah, good for you guys,” says Rojan. He makes eye contact with me, a little smile on his lips. I look down, embarrassed. I’ve always liked Rojan. He joined the Butarza Family at around the same time I did, and I know that like me, he’s having to adapt to this new world. I can already see that his muscles have filled in considerably since he stopped taking suppressant drugs.
Turan takes the captain’s chair.
“Where should I sit?” I ask him awkwardly. There are only three chairs on the bridge, and they’re all occupied.
“I have to talk business with Geddion and Rojan,” he says. “Why don’t you hang out in the mess for now. Or your room.”
His tone is casually dismissive, as though the idea that I might have anything to offer them isn’t even in his mind. I turn right around and leave, insulted. I’d rather hang out in the mess anyway.
Turan
After checking in with Geddion and Rojan, I go to find Kora in the mess. She’s sitting at the counter staring at the leftover crumbs on her empty plate, not looking very happy. I walk up to her, feeling awkward. I don’t know exactly how to talk to my Fated Mate. I’ve been with women before, yes, but mostly women from traditional Vostra planets, women a lot more naturally submissive than Kora. Women more submissive than I even like, if I’m being honest. Kora isn’t submissive by default. It’s something I have to earn from her. Something I have to claim from her.
But right now, she seems upset, and I need to know why. I don’t want my Fated Mate to be unhappy, even if having her on this mission is more than a little bit inconvenient.
I sit down next to her at the counter. She throws me the shortest of glances, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
“You seem upset,” I observe, not sure how to open the conversation more tactfully than that.
“Do I?” she replies, rolling her eyes.
Yep. Definitely upset. She goes back to staring at her plate, and I’m left sitting next to her, not sure how to reengage.
“Kora,” I try again, “you’re my mate now. We’re going to need to get used to talking to each other.”
She winces slightly as I use the word mate, which pretty much cuts me like a knife through the heart. She seems to notice, too, although I try to hide my reaction. I can’t tell if she feels bad about hurting me, or pleased. Maybe both. I keep talking, trying to put things on a better footing:
“Look, I know this isn’t something either of us expected. When I took off in the Epeshi ship from Doros, I sure as shit didn’t didn’t think I would find you going into heat in one of the cabins. But we’re Fated Mates, Kora. You have my mark on your neck.”
“Not like I wanted it,” she mutters, looking away.
This gets a small rise out of me. I may have been running on instinct last night, but I wasn’t the only one. I’m not just going to let her shirk all responsibility.
“Really?” I say. “So did I just imagine the part where you were begging me for my knot?”
She blushes, still not looking at me. “I was in heat. That doesn’t count.”
“Doesn’t count? So by that logic, the smell of your heat that drew me into your room like a fucking magnet means my actions don’t count either, right? Nobody has any responsibility for anything where hormones and pheromones are concerned?”
“That’s not what I meant,” she protests, finally looking at me.
“So what did you mean?” The question is genuine, and I do my best not to make it sound like an accusation.
She throws her head into her hands. I hesitate, then put my arm around her, pained to see her so distraught. But she doesn’t cuddle up against me, doesn’t react at all. Eventually, I move my arm, feeling bad.
“Turan, I didn’t choose any of this,” she says, sounding miserable. “All I wanted was to have my heat in peace. I literally came here to be alone. And now we’re zooming through hyperspace, I have a mate I didn’t ask for, and I don’t even know where the fuck we’re going or why.”
I want so badly to hold her, to let her bury herself in my chest. But despite the mark on