Page 19 of Reluctantly Abducted
"So the assessment requires daily nutritional records," Ry'eth says, watching me eat with that clinical gaze of his. "Your reactions to Nereidan food compounds will be documented for future reference."
"Happy to be your guinea pig," I reply, setting down my spoon. "As long as you keep feeding me food this good."
Ry'eth nods, making a note on the floating screen in front of him. He's been carefully explaining various aspects of the assessment protocol for the past twenty minutes, all while studiously avoiding any mention of his brothers or their human partners.
Which, naturally, makes me more curious.
"So what happens if you don't bond with me?"
The question slips out before I can stop it.
Ry'eth freezes, his spoon halfway to the disposal unit. The blue-green light beneath his skin pulses once, sharply, then dims. "What?"
"You said your brothers both formed these empathic bonds with humans. What happens if you don't? Is there someone else you're supposed to try with next, or...?"
He sets the spoon down with careful precision. "That's not how it works."
"Then how does it work?" I lean back in my seat, studying him. After our shared swim earlier, something has shifted between us. Not dramatically, but enough that theconversation feels different, less like an interrogation, more like an actual exchange.
"The Council approves specific pairing candidates," he says finally, his tone deliberately neutral. "It's not a random process."
"So they picked me specifically for you?"
He nods once, a slight dip of his chin. "Yes."
"And if this doesn't... work out?" I make a vague gesture between us. "What then?"
"Then there is no one else." His gaze meets mine directly. "The Council only approves one potential bonding candidate."
That hits differently than I expected. "So I'm your one shot at this whole bonding thing? That's... a lot of pressure."
"It's not pressure at all," he says quickly. "I have no interest in forming a bond."
"None?" I raise an eyebrow.
"None." He straightens, his posture becoming even more formal. "My work requires mobility, focus, and independence. A bond would be an unnecessary complication."
"Right." I study him for a moment. "So you're saying if you don't bond with me, you never bond with anyone? That's it, game over?"
"That is correct. And I am perfectly satisfied with that outcome." He begins gathering the remaining dishes with efficient movements. "My schedule is highly variable. I often need to travel to remote research sites for extended periods. I prefer solitude for concentration."
He's protesting a bit too much, which is interesting. "You like being alone?"
"I find it conducive to productivity." He's not looking at me now, focused intently on organizing the meal containers.
"So you're saying the Council went through all this trouble to approve me as your one possible match, but you've already decided you're not interested?"
His bioluminescence flickers subtly. "The Council has its priorities. I have mine."
"Doesn't that cause problems? Them wanting you to bond, you refusing?"
"My professional contributions outweigh my personal choices." His tone suggests this conversation is straying into uncomfortable territory.
"So this whole assessment is just for show? You're going through the motions with no intention of actually considering a bond?"
That gets a reaction, a flare of light beneath his skin. "The assessment has scientific value regardless of personal outcomes."
"Convenient." I can't help pushing a little. "So your brothers both bought into this system, but you're the rebel?"
