Page 18 of Reluctantly Abducted
"Uh-huh." He doesn't look convinced. "And your brothers just happen to be into humans, and you just happen to get assigned to abduct a human for 'assessment.' Total coincidence."
"The Council would never—" I stop myself, realizing I don't actually know what the Council's true intentions were in assigning me this task. The thought is unsettling.
"Hey, I'm just connecting dots here," Owen says, his tone gentler than before. "So these empathic bonds, they're like a marriage thing?"
"They're... more fundamental than that. They create a permanent link between the individuals involved."
"And you're worried you might end up the same way." It's not a question.
"I am not worried about anything," I say automatically. "I am conducting an objective assessment."
He laughs softly. "Right. Very objective. That's why you light up so much whenever I call you Ry."
Another flare of bioluminescence betrays me. "That's merely an involuntary physiological response to irritation."
"If you say so." He pushes off from the edge of the pool, floating on his back with casual ease. "For what it's worth, I've got no interest in permanent bonds either. Had enough commitment for a lifetime."
The statement shouldn't provide relief, yet somehow it does. "You've been bonded before?"
"Married. For about three years. It didn't work out." His voice is carefully neutral, but I sense there's more to the story.
We lapse into silence, just the gentle ripple of water between us. Despite my initial discomfort, I find the situation less objectionable than anticipated. There's something almost... familiar about sharing the hydration pool.
"My hydration cycle is nearly complete," I say after several minutes have passed. "We should return to the common area to continue the assessment."
"Whatever you say, boss." He smiles, making no move to leave. "Just say when."
I wait another moment, then add, "When we exit, I would prefer if you turned away."
"Sure thing," he says easily. "Just tell me when."
I give it another minute, enjoying the sensation of the mineral-rich water one last time. Then, "I'm ready to exit now. Please turn away."
To my surprise, he complies without comment, turning to face the wall. I exit the pool quickly, retrieving my uniform and dressing with efficient movements.
"You can turn back now," I say once I'm fully clothed.
He turns, and I find myself instinctively averting my gaze as he moves toward the edge of the pool. "I'll meet you in the common area after I'm done here?"
"Yes. I need to update my assessment logs."
I move toward the door, then pause, feeling some response is required. "Thank you for... respecting my privacy."
Owen looks surprised, then nods. "No problem. Everyone has their comfort zones."
I exit the hydration chamber, oddly unsettled by the entire interaction. My skin feels properly hydrated now, my bioluminescence flowing naturally beneath the surface. Yet there's a lingering sensation I can't quite identify, something about the shared space, the casual conversation, the unexpected glimpse into human adaptability.
As I walk back to the common area, I realize I've acquired more data points for my assessment. The human demonstrates unexpected observational skills, respectful behavior when boundaries are clearly defined, and genuine curiosity about biological differences.
None of which explains why I keep thinking about the way the water looked against his skin, or how his laughter echoed in the hydration chamber.
Clearly, I need to recalibrate my objectivity parameters.
Chapter Seven
Owen
I scrape the last bite of purplish stew from the bottom of my bowl. Whatever these alien vegetables are, they're surprisingly good, hearty and almost meaty despite containing nothing I recognize.
