Page 56 of Bonded to the Star-Beast

“How is the linguistic database coming along?” I ask, changing the subject.

Kyra is our chief liaison, her sharp mind and diplomatic grace making her the perfect bridge between our two peoples. The ESD ships remain in orbit, a silent, watchful presence, but the small, carefully selected teams they've sent down have been a resounding success, largely thanks to her.

“The nuances are the most difficult part,” she admits. “Your human concept of sarcasm is... challenging to codify. And Jaro's habit of grunting affirmatives has required its own sub-protocol.”

I laugh. “Tell me about it. I've become an expert grunt interpreter.”

“The talks for the formal scientific exchange treaty are proceeding well. The Directorate is practically salivating over your botanical data. The potential for new medicines is a very powerful negotiating tool.” Kyra's expression turns more serious. “They still ask about you, of course. When you'll be returning.”

My smile fades slightly. I look out at the alien landscape, the towering purple flora, the rust-colored soil. It doesn't feel alien anymore. It feels like home.

“I've already given them my answer.”

“I know,” Kyra says gently. “But they are a persistent people. Like you.”

Before I can reply, the scent of him reaches me, a familiar, intoxicating mix of pine, clean musk, and something uniquely Jaro. It's a scent my own biology now recognizes as safety, as belonging. The heart-bond mark on my chest gives a faint, pleasant thrum.

He enters the dome, ducking slightly under the archway, his powerful frame filling the space. He's dressed in simple warrior leathers, his long black hair loose today, framing a face that has become the center of my universe. His amber eyes find mine, and the rest ofthe world melts away.

“Am I interrupting important work, my leaders?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the floor. He directs the question to both of us, a subtle but constant affirmation of the new order he champions.

“Kendra was just explaining the statistical improbability of your grunts containing complex syntax,” Kyra says, her eyes twinkling.

Jaro's lips twitch, a ghost of a smile. “My grunts are very complex.” He walks toward us, his gaze never leaving mine. “Are you finished here? I have a request.”

“I am,” I say, powering down my screen. “What is it?”

“We have not been to the summit of Kul-Vasha since... before.”

Since the ambush. Since Vex's challenge. Since everything changed. I understand immediately. It's not just a mountain; it's a symbol of our journey.

“I think a pilgrimage is an excellent idea,” I say softly.

He offers me his hand, and I take it, his calloused palm warm and strong around mine. The faint blue glow of his bond-mark is visible on his wrist, a perfect match to the one that now glows on my own skin when he is near.

“We will return by moonrise,” Jaro tells Kyra, a formal declaration of our plans.

“Be safe,” she says, dipping her head in a gesture of respect that is for both of us.

We walk out of the research station hand in hand. Vex is overseeing a training drill in the distance, his movements stiff but obedient. He lost his challenge, but Jaro's mercy left him with his honor intact, and in doing so, turned a rival into a watchful, but currently powerless, observer. The tribe is slowly healing, the concept of bond-choice taking root among the younger generation, a quiet revolution happening in the heart of their society.

“Are you certain you are ready to go back up there?” Jaro asks as we approach the treeline. “The memories are not all pleasant.”

I remember the acid rain. The fear. The intimacy of the Light Caves.The way I felt when I thought I might lose you.

“I'm not the same woman who climbed that mountain before,” I tell him, squeezing his hand. “And you're not the same man.”

He looks down at me, his amber eyes soft. “No,” he agrees. “I am not.”

The climb is different this time. There is no fear, only a shared sense of purpose. We move in easy harmony, our steps synchronized. I point out plants, naming them with the new hybrid classification system Kyra and I developed, and he tells me the ancient Xylosian stories associated with them. His world and my world, no longer in opposition, but in conversation.

We stop to rest at the entrance to the Light Caves, the site of our first true intimacy. The air is still and cool, the bioluminescent fungi pulsing with a soft, welcoming light.

“It feels like a lifetime ago,” I murmur, running my hand along the cool stone.

Jaro comes to stand behind me, his arms circling my waist, pulling me back against his solid chest. His chin rests on my head. “It was. We were different people.”

“Were you scared?” I ask, leaning into his strength. “That day, when you found me after I ran from the ceremony?”

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