Page 21 of Salvaged By the Alien Pirate

The rest of my protest dissolves into a sharp inhale as fire races through my veins. My tribal markings pulse erratically with fever as I grip the nearest console, fighting to stay upright. The bond-sickness tears through my defenses with renewed vigor, as if punishing my attempt at authority.

Zara’s tail lashes with determination, her russet fur bristling as she stands tall. “You didn’t have to. As First Officer, it’s my duty to ensure this ship’s safety—including its captain’s.”

Her voice leaves no room for argument. Even through the haze of fever, I recognize the steel in her tone, the unwavering loyalty that makes her invaluable. She’s right, damn her. In this condition, I’m more liability than asset.

“Neon,” I say, forcing my voice steady despite the fire in my blood. “The bridge is yours. Work with Zara to coordinate our defense.”

Surprise flickers across Neon’s face, followed by something deeper, more complex. “You’re trusting me with your ship?”

“I’m trusting you with my crew.” The distinction is important. Through the bond-sickness, I feel her reaction—a mix of honor and fear, responsibility and doubt. “Unless you’d prefer I collapse here and really give the Eclipse something to talk about?”

A ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. “Can’t have that. Your ego’s big enough already.” But her enhanced eyes soften, scanning my vital signs with obvious concern. “You need to rest. Now. Before I have to hack your neural implants and make you.”

I nod, too exhausted to argue. I slump into a nearby chair, my wings drooping as another wave of fever hits. Neon’s eyes widen as she watches me struggle to maintain consciousness.

“Zara, take the bridge,” Neon commands, her voice sharp with authority. “I’m getting him to his quarters.”

Zara nods, her russet fur bristling with determination as she takes the command chair. “Understood. We’ll hold things down here.”

Neon turns back to me, her expression a mix of concern and resolve. “Come on, Captain. Let’s get you rested up so you can kick some Eclipse ass later.”

The walk to my quarters is a battle of will versus instinct. Each step brings Neon closer, her proximity both soothing the bond-sickness and intensifying it in ways that make my head spin. Her hand on my arm steadies me, but every point of contact sends electricity through my fevered system. By the time we reach my door, I’m trembling with the effort of maintaining control.

My quarters are spartan, dominated by a large viewport that offers an endless view of stars. The cold void beyond the reinforced glass is a stark contrast to the heat consuming me from within. Neon helps me to the bed, her enhanced eyes cataloging every detail of my condition.

“How bad is it?” she asks, pressing a cool hand to my forehead. The simple touch sends lightning through my nervous system, pleasure and pain intertwined.

“Scale of one to ten?” I catch her wrist before she can pull away, my thumb tracing patterns on her pulse point. “About a thousand.”

She tries to withdraw, but I hold her gently, needing her to understand. “The bond-sickness isn’t just fever and pain. It’s...” I struggle to find words that can bridge the gap between our species, our experiences. “Imagine your neural implants malfunctioning. Every sensation amplified, every emotion raw and exposed. But instead of data streams, it’s... connection. The need to complete something vital to your survival.”

“You’re dying,” she says softly, the words barely a whisper. Not a question this time. Her enhanced eyes catch every detail—the tremor in my wings, the erratic pulse of my tribal markings, the sweat beading on my skin.

“Yes.” No point lying now. “But I won’t force this on you, Neon. I won’t use my condition to manipulate you into something you’re not ready for.”

She studies me, those brilliant blue eyes processing more than just physical data. “How does it work? The mate-bond. You’ve never really explained.”

I sit up, fighting another wave of dizziness. “It’s more than physical union. The bond creates a permanent connection—thoughts, emotions, even life force itself becomes shared. When it’s complete, neither can survive without the other.” My voice roughens. “It’s why my people choose carefully. One mate, one lifetime. No second chances.”

“That’s...” She swallows hard. “Intense.”

“It is.” I reach up, cupping her face with a trembling hand. “Which is why it has to be your choice, Neon. Completely yours.”

She leans into my touch, almost unconsciously. “And if I say no?”

“Then I die knowing I respected your freedom.” The words cost me, but they’re true. “Better that than live knowing I trapped you in something you didn’t choose.”

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, maybe, or recognition. She moves closer, her free hand coming up to trace the tribal markings that pulse beneath my skin. The touch sends fire through my veins, but this time it’s not just pain. Pleasure threads through the burning, sweet and sharp and dangerous.

“You’re not what I expected,” she murmurs, her fingers exploring the contours of my face with a gentleness that makes my heart ache. “When you first captured me, I thought...” She trails off, shaking her head. “I thought you were just another alpha male alien who wanted to own me.”

“And now?” My voice is rough, strained with the effort of maintaining control as her touch sends sparks through my system.

“Now I think you’re something far more dangerous.” Her enhanced eyes meet mine, filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. “You make me want things I can’t afford to want.”

“Like what?” I barely breathe the words, afraid to break whatever spell has fallen over us.

Instead of answering, she leans forward and kisses me. The contact is electric, sending a shock through my entire system. The bond-sickness flares, but this time it’s different—the pain transmuting into something sweeter, more urgent. My wings snap wide, then curl around us both, creating a private universe where nothing exists but this moment.

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