But I do.
Not just physically, although the desire that flared between us was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, but emotionally too. He’s the embodiment of all the things I find attractive in a man. Confident, a little cocky, with a sense of humor and adventure, but not reckless or foolish. He can be serious when he needs to be, but I can also tell that he would be a lot of fun.
I haven’t had nearly enough fun in my life. And if it were possible, I think I could be happy with Druxik. Really, truly happy.
So what’s the problem?
The problem is that you can’t be mated, I chastise myself, trying to get a grip on my runaway emotions. It’s not right. You can’t agree to this when you know you can’t be a good mate. You accepted that fact already, so why are you fighting against it now? Don’t condemn Druxik to be with you, someone who can never fully give him everything he needs in a mate, when you know better.
It makes my heart ache. But I know the tiny voice in my head is right. This is a mistake, and Druxik would figure it out soon enough anyway. Better to end it now, before there’s time for real feelings to develop and we both get our hearts broken.
I straighten, pushing myself to my feet and away from the wall. I need to talk to Druxik, to put an end to this before it can go any further. And I need to do it now, before I can talk myself out of it. A tiny part of my mind is already trying to convince me that one night with him—and god, how I want that—would be just fine.
But it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
With my heart aching but my mind made up, I step out of my cabin and walk down the hall, turning into the main corridor. As I start to head toward the captain’s deck, a rattling sound behind me draws my attention. I glance back just in time to see several of the warriors rushing a medical stretcher down the corridor.
My hand flies to my mouth, my eyes going wide with horror as I realize the man on the stretcher is Druxik.
He’s unconscious, his body spattered with blood, covering nearly every inch of him. And all that’s left of his right arm is a shredded mess, unrecognizable as a limb from the shoulder down.
I sag against the wall, moving out of the way as nausea rises up into my throat, choking me. Tears spring to my eyes, my blood running cold as I hear the men talking urgently in tense, hurried voices.
“Osynth has medical training,” I hear one of them say. “He’ll be in the med bay. But this is beyond anything he’s seen before.”
“Tissue regeneration on this scale is nearly impossible,” I hear Zhori say tightly. “Even if we were home, it would be unlikely. Here, it can’t be done. And we can’t get to another planet soon enough.”
My stomach tightens. What does that mean? Druxik’s arm is lost, plainly, and the thought of what that will mean for him makes me ache with sorrow.
But is it worse than that?
Will he die?
Without thinking, without even knowing what I’m doing, I push myself away from the wall and follow them, my feet taking me in the direction that the warriors are headed with Druxik without my conscious command.
My entire world seems to have narrowed down to one thing, every other thought crowded out of my head.
I have to make sure that Druxik is okay.
8
Druxik
I wake slowly.
As I come back to consciousness, I see the smooth glass dome of a medical pod overhead, the white ceiling and the bright lights of the med bay gleaming above me.
The machines beep, alerting Osynth that I’m awake, and I see him flip a switch to open the pod.
I feel groggy, my entire body sluggish and heavy. I blink as I pull myself up to a sitting position, feeling muscles that haven’t been used in a few days complain. The med bay door opens as I lick my dry lips, trying to steady the sense of vertigo in my head, and Zhori walks in.
“Druxik?” His voice is cautious.
I lurch a little, still regaining my sense of balance. Osynth reaches out to steady me.
“You’re all right,” he tells me. “The pod has been healing you, but it’ll take a moment to regain your equilibrium.”
“I’m glad to see you’re alive and well,” Zhori says. “I don’t want to run things any longer than I have to.” I can tell he’s trying to keep a lighthearted tone in his voice, but there’s strain just beneath it. He grins at me, the concern under the smile showing a little. “We were worried about you, Druxik.”
“I’m alive,” I say, and then hesitate. Something feels strange. I see the tension on both Osynth’s and Zhori’s faces, and I turn my head slowly to look down at the rest of myself.
A shock ripples through me as I see the robotic arm where my flesh-and-blood limb used to be. I lick my lips again unsteadily, trying to sort through the sudden, complicated tangle of emotions that rises up in me. I’m grateful to be alive, grateful that the ship didn’t explode, that we’re all safe. But…
“What happened?”
My voice is hoarse, and I keep my gaze fixed on the arm. It doesn’t look like a part of me. It’s smooth and metallic, well-crafted and sleek. The robotic arm starts just below my shoulder, with a functional hand at the end. It’s a beautiful piece of equipment—but it shouldn’t belong to me.
I should have two hands. Two arms. This isn’t mine. It can’t be.
“You saved all of our lives, that’s what happened,” Zhori says carefully.
“You’re lucky you didn’t lose yours in the process,” Osynth adds. “We weren’t sure you would make it, at first. You lost a lot of blood.”
“And the ship?” I can’t look at them. I can’t look at anything but the metallic limb extruding from my shoulder. Somehow, inexplicably, my arm still aches. It’s impossible, but it does.
“There shouldn’t be another engine failure,” Zhori assures me. “We’ll have to be careful when we land on Nierra, though. We’ve lost a little time, and it’ll be a bit harder to pilot the ship going forward. In order to keep up our current pace, we’ve had to temporarily disable the AI in order to route all power to the engine. I’ve been piloting it primarily, although Vrexen is capable enough when I need a break. We should be able to re-engage the AI unit soon.” He pauses. “But the ship will have to be repaired on Nierra before we can take off again. We’ll have to figure out how to manage that while getting the women safely away from the auction and off the planet as quickly as possible.”
“Try the use of your hand,” Osynth encourages. “It was lucky that I had the equipment available on board. It’s top of the line tech. After a while, you’ll hardly notice it’s not the real thing.”
I doubt that, I think grimly as I focus, attempting to move the fingers of the… of my hand.
As I lift the arm with some effort, bending the elbow joint and twitching the fingers, I bite back a groan. The movements are jerky and awkward, nothing like the steady and reliable motion of my old hand. My real hand.
“It’ll get better,” Osynth says quickly, seeing the expression on my face. “You’ll need to retrain your mind to connect to the robotic arm more organically. But it can be done, and it’ll soon be effortless. You won’t even have to think about it.”