Page 36 of Reluctantly Abducted
Relief floods through me, but there's more. Something I've never asked anyone before. Something I've never even wanted before now. I struggle with myself, the part that wants connection fighting with the part that fears it.
"Would you..." The words catch in my throat. This is so far outside my experience, so contrary to everything I've alwaysbelieved about myself. But something in me needs this, needs the comfort of another person - of this person specifically. "Would you hold me?"
The question hangs between us. I wait, my heart pounding, suddenly horrified at my own request. What am I doing? This isn't me. I don't seek physical comfort. I don't need it.
Except right now, I do.
"Yes," Owen says simply. "I'd like that."
His answer is so straightforward, so genuine, that it catches me off guard. My skin lights up like the night sky, patterns of light I couldn't hide if I tried.
I should say something else. I should clarify that this doesn't mean anything beyond tonight. That I'm just experiencing a temporary emotional response to an unusual situation. That tomorrow everything will return to normal.
Owen holds out his hand to me. I take it, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength in his fingers as they wrap around mine. He leads me to the bed, where the covers are still rumpled from his earlier restlessness.
"Is this okay?" he asks, gesturing to the bed. "Just sleep. Nothing else."
"Yes," I say, relieved at the boundary. "That's all I meant."
Owen gets under the covers, then lifts them for me. I take off my outer layer but keep my underclothes on. It feels important to maintain some boundaries, even now.
I slide in beside him, suddenly very aware of every place our bodies might touch. The bed feels too small and too big all at once. I'm rigid with uncertainty, caught between wanting comfort and fearing what it might mean.
"Come here," Owen says softly, opening his arms.
I move closer, not sure how to position myself. I've never done this before. Owen guides me gently to lie on my side, then curls his body around mine from behind. One arm slides beneath my neck while his other hand comes to rest splayed across my lower stomach.
I inhale sharply at the contact, my muscles tensing involuntarily. Owen starts to pull back, but I place my hand over his, keeping it in place. After a moment, I relax into his embrace. The warmth of his palm seeps through the thin fabric of my underclothes, sending ripples of blue light cascading beneath my skin.
"This okay?" he asks, his breath warm against my hair.
"Yes," I whisper. And despite all my reservations, all my internal conflict, it is okay. More than okay. It feels safe in a way I didn't expect.
I can hear his heartbeat under my ear, steady and strong. It's faster than a Nereidan's, with a different rhythm, but somehow soothing. His scent surrounds me, something distinctly human but unexpectedly comforting. It's warm and slightly earthy, with traces of the ship's cleansing products and something uniquely Owen. I find myself breathing it in deeply, another piece of data my report will never contain.
"Goodnight, Ry," Owen says quietly, his arm tightening slightly around me.
The nickname makes me smile instead of protesting. It sounds right now, coming from him. "Goodnight, Owen," I reply, letting myself relax against him.
As I close my eyes, I realize my mind has finally quieted. Tomorrow will bring decisions and consequences, rules and realities. I'll need to sort through these confusing feelings, figure out what they mean and what I want to do about them. But tonight, with Owen's arms around me, I can just be.
For the first time, I think I understand what drew my brothers to their humans. It's not what I expected. It's more complicated, more frightening. But also more... real.
And as I drift toward sleep, confusion still swirls beneath the surface. No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm not the same person I was when Owen arrived.
I'm not sure if that's good or bad. But right now, in this moment, it just is.
Tomorrow's decision looms over me even as I begin to drift off, stay or go, follow protocol or break it, return to the life I've always known or step into something entirely new and terrifying. The weight of it should keep me awake, but somehow, here in Owen's arms, even that burden feels lighter. For now.
Chapter Eleven
Owen
I wake slowly, drifting up from dreams I can't quite remember. Something about blue light and warm water. The first thing I notice is heat, comfortable, perfect heat pressed against me. My body registers the sensation before my brain fully awakens: the solid weight in my arms, the subtle scent that's nothing like Earth, the soft rhythm of breathing that isn't mine.
Ry'eth.
He's still asleep, his back pressed against my chest, my arm wrapped around him. Sometime during the night, we've shifted closer, my body curled protectively around his smaller frame. He'd mentioned once that he was considered small by his people's standards, an "unfortunate genetic trait" he'd called it with that hint of scientific detachment he uses when talking about himself. To me, it just makes him fit perfectly against me, his body slotting against mine like we were designed as complementary pieces.
