Page 296 of Hunters and Prey

The whole subject was a tangled mess of confusion and debatable morals. To her it was all just science. Chiara wanted to study it and figure out how they even transferred an entire person’s self. Was it a copy or a true transfer?

Did the Neprijat truly die when Roman killed him, or had he simply woken up somewhere else?

“I’ve lost you again,” Roman said, but the words were gentle.

Chiara looked up and realized he’d been watching her.

She’d done it again.

“I apologize,” she said. “I usually don’t mix work with social visits for this reason. But you presented me with something I’ve wanted to research for a while now. Ever since the queen was kidnapped actually. There might be a way to prevent the initial upload, but it would take time. And I’m supposed to find a cure for sterility.”

Glancing back at some of the programs she had running, Chiara kept getting drawn back to the genetic panel for Roman, the results of his blood test, and the scan of his entire body…compared to hers it couldn’t be more different. But they were indeed a match – a mated pair per their biology…or rather her body’s response to his pheromones.

They were compatible.

It had been a shock to see the science of it.

And yet, somehow the Drakesthai could scent it.

“What does the mate bond smell like?” she asked, taking out her simulcast to set up an alarm to go take a look at the Neprijat and the Snatcher later. She would give Roman a few hours. She had the time.

“I only know what it smells like on you,” he confessed. “Would you like to take a walk with me while we talk?”

Chiara glanced outside the window at the darkness that permeated everything. But she wouldn’t be alone. “I don’t like being near the edge…of anything,” she told him.

His eyebrows rose. “You don’t like heights?”

Standing and checking to make sure certain programs would still run while she was gone, Chiara grabbed her glass of water and took a sip. “Not heights exactly, but falling. If I look down for too long I start wondering what it would feel like to hit the ground.” She gave him a look. “I know it’s morbid but I can’t help it. So I simply stay away.”

He expanded his wings for a moment and then tucked them in as he stood and she tilted her head. “Does that help you stand?”

Roman smiled slightly. “I’m tired and it’s lazy, but yes it helps. Let me escort you.” He held out his arm for her but it was completely wrong. Chiara stared as she tried to figure out how to respond.

“This isn’t protocol,” she stated. “I don’t know if you’re more dominant so I’m not sure which side to stand on. Though I suppose since you outrank me it would be easier to stand on your left. And that’s not how you escort someone. Like this.”

Chiara put her right arm behind her back at a right angle. Then her left hand went into a fist and she held it up at chest height, arm away from her body. “Put your hand over my fist,” she told him.

Roman’s eyes sparkled and his lips twitched. She knew he was laughing at her, but he went along with it, putting his hand over hers.

“My arm is strong enough for you to lean on in this position and here.” She moved in different directions, using her fist to lead him around. “It’s easy to direct you.” The dominant position felt a little off knowing his rank. Chiara released him the second she felt he understood and took a step back.

Roman lifted his wings a little higher and pressed them as close to his body as he could before doing as she’d demonstrated. “Better?” he asked.

Chiara wasn’t wearing a gown, but he still made her feel like a lady when she placed her hand over his fist in the submissive position. Then he pulled and suddenly she was a lot closer to him than she’d planned on being.

Her breathing became erratic which was strange, and then Roman leaned down and whispered into her ear. “I’ll use any excuse to touch you, velika.”

Instantly she blushed and Chiara was about to release him, but then remembered she’d agreed to this and she was no quitter. “Well, other than dancing this is all you’ll get for now,” she muttered in response.

Instead of looking disappointed, Roman’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim light from her screens. “Looks like I’ll have to find an excuse to ask you to dance then.”

Chiara cleared her throat as he walked her out of her new office and into the corridor lit by fire that never burned out. She really should stop giving him ideas. “I’m not great at dancing.”

“You’re lying.”

Chiara stopped and looked up at him in shock. “What?”

“I can smell the lie, velika,” Roman said with a smile.

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