Page 16 of Bonded to the Star-Beast

He ignores my question. He stalks over to me, his face a mask of cold fury. He grabs my arm, his grip hard but not painful, and hauls me to my feet.

He points to the pulped remains of the plant, then points to me, his eyes blazing with accusation.

“You,” he growls. And this time, I don't need the translator. I understand him perfectly. My reckless curiosity almost got me killed. And it got him hurt.

I look from his furious face to the burn on his arm, and a wave of guilt washes over me. My scientific focus, my greatest strength, is also my greatest liability here. I am so focused on understanding this world that I forget it is trying to kill me.

“I'm sorry,” I say, the words inadequate.

He doesn't respond. He just turns and begins walking, his stride long and angry, leaving me to hurry after him.

I notice the burn on his arm is already beginning to heal, the red fading to a pale pink, the sizzling skin already knitting itself back together. His healing ability is as remarkable as his strength.

And I notice something else. Despite the grueling pace, despite the terror and the adrenaline, I am not exhausted. I feel... strong. Alive. The heart-bond, this impossible connection, is changing me. It is making me more than I was.

We walk in silence as the twin suns of Xylos begin their descent. He is angry. I am chastened. But something has shifted between us. He has seen the danger of my insatiable curiosity. And I have seen the fierce, terrifying, and absolute nature of his protection. He may see me as his possession, but he will also die to keep that possession safe.

I don't know what to do with that knowledge. So I do what I always do.

I open my datapad, my fingers flying over the screen, and I begin to document.

Log entry, supplemental. Encountered aggressive flora, Species 734. Defensive mechanism: high-velocity projectile venom, acidic properties. Subject Jaro sustained minor chemical burns, tissue regeneration observed to be... extraordinarily rapid. Note: Heart-bond appears to be influencing subject Kendra's physical stamina and sensory acuity. Subject Jaro's protective instincts are proving to be... problematic. And essential. Further observation is required.

Chapter 8: FIRST NIGHT

The suns of Xylos, one a brilliant gold and the other a smoldering crimson, begin their slow descent, painting the alien sky in shades of bruised purple and fiery orange. The oppressive heat of the day finally breaks, replaced by a creeping chill that has nothing to do with the temperature. We need to make camp. Now.

Jaro, my silent, intimidating companion, seems to reach the same conclusion. He stops abruptly, his head tilting as he scans our surroundings. His movements are economical, efficient. There is no wasted energy, no hesitation. He is a creature perfectly adapted to this world, and I am a foreign body, a biological anomaly struggling to keep up.

He points to a shallow alcove formed by a cluster of massive, obsidian-like boulders. It offers protection from the wind and a clear view of the surrounding terrain. A sound strategic choice.

Defensible position,I note mentally.Limited approach vectors. Natural cover. He thinks like a soldier.

He gestures for me to stay put, then melts into the shadows of the forest. I don't argue. My brief, disastrous attempt at independent exploration taught me a valuable lesson: my scientific knowledge is useless if I'm dead. And this world, I am quickly learning, is very good at killing things.

While he is gone, I get to work. I unpack my salvaged equipment, my hands moving with practiced efficiency. The resonance imager is my priority. I check its power levels, relieved to see the backup cell is still holding a charge. I run a diagnostic on my water purifier, modifying the filtration matrix to account for the unique mineral composition I detected in the stream earlier. Science is my anchor, the one constant in this chaotic new reality. The familiar hum of the machinery is a comfort, a small piece of Earth in this alien wilderness.

I hear a sound from the forest edge, a soft thud. I look up to see Jaro has returned. He stands over the body of a small, furred creature. It resembles a terran rabbit, if rabbits had four ears and a prehensile tail. He dispatches it with a swift, clean motion of his blade, his movements a blur of deadly grace.

He begins to prepare the carcass, and I force myself to watch, my inner scientist overriding my squeamishness. His methods are fascinating. He uses every part of the animal. The pelt is stripped clean in one piece, the meat carved with surgical precision, the organs set aside. Nothing is wasted. It is a masterclass in survival efficiency.

“You should eat,” he says, his voice a low rumble. He skewers a piece of the meat on a sharpened stick and holds it over the fire he has just coaxed to life with a spark from two stones.

“I have my own,” I say, holding up one of my silver nutrient paste packets. “It contains all the necessary proteins, carbohydrates, and micronutrients for optimal human performance.”

He looks from the silver packet to the sizzling meat, his expression one of profound disgust. He says a single Xylosian word. My translator flashes: [NOT. FOOD.]

“It is scientifically engineered sustenance,” I counter, feeling a ridiculous need to defend my rations.

He grunts and turns back to the fire. I sigh and open the packet. The bland, grey paste is familiar, comforting in its own way. But as the scent of roasting meat fills the air, my stomach rumbles in traitorous agreement with Jaro. His food smells... real.

While the meat cooks, I test the water from a nearby spring I located. I hold the portable spectrometer over the sample, its small screen displaying the molecular breakdown.

H2O, check. Trace minerals consistent with previous samples. No complex organic compounds or known toxins detected. It's safe.

“The water is potable,” I announce, filling my canteen. I offer it to him. “You should drink.”

He eyes the canteen with suspicion, then me. It's clear he doesn't trust my technology any more than he trusts me. He gestures to the spring.

---