Dron and Maznik startled and backed away as if Tempest were about to blow up like a bomb.

This was the second time that she’d expressed herself in such an intensly loud fashion. The last time she did this she was happy but Dron didn’t want to take it for granted. For all he knew she could be having a fit because he brought an animal in the house.

Any other Thraqen woman would have fussed and verbally ripped Dron a new one for bringing a wild animal into the house. The omegas were very particular about what the house should be like. Dron only hoped that since Tempest wasn’t from Ustea that she wouldn’t react the same way.

So far he couldn’t tell.

"It’s a squabbit!" Tempest picked the small animal up. It grunted and wiggled but Dron was grateful it didn’t try to bite her or anything like that.

Maznik had truly come through on his promise. When Dron approached him about getting a domesticated pet he was surprised that Maznik had a source who specialized in trained black market animals.

He shouldn’t have been surprised though. Maznik usually had a bead on pretty much anything that Dron could want.

"It’s not a squabbit. This is called a hitak." Maznik corrected her.

"Hitak? That sounds so formal. Squabbit is better." Tempest continued to snuggle with the animal.

"You like it then?" Dron questioned.

"Like it? I love him. It is a him?"

"Yes, that is a male hitak. They are much more temperamental, and they can be trained." Maznik finally moved forward, seeing that Tempest wasn’t having some sort of fit.

"Trained! Oh yeah, we need to get him some place to sleep. I’m sure there’s something in my room." Tempest cradled the small animal to her chest and walked away from them.

Dron watched her disappear down the hall, the corners of his mouth twitching upward before he could stop himself.

Relief spread slowly through his chest.

She liked it.

Actually liked it.

For some reason, that mattered far more than it should have.

"You look ridiculous." Maznik snorted beside him.

Dron’s expression instantly flattened. "Careful."

"I haven’t seen you look relieved in years." Maznik crossed his arms over his chest. "Not since before the war."

Dron ignored that. Instead, he kept his eyes toward the hallway where Tempest had disappeared. He could still hear her soft voice speaking to the hitak as she moved around her room.

The sound did something unpleasant to his chest.

Maznik’s expression shifted slightly. "The attack today was not random."

Dron’s attention snapped back toward him.

"I already know that."

"No." Maznik shook his head. "You know that someone targeted her. What you do not understand is how dangerous that truly is."

Dron’s jaw tightened.

Maznik continued before he could interrupt. "There are more people against human integration than the High Council wants to admit. Many believe bringing humans here will pollute the bloodlines. Others think mating outside of Thraqe customs is an insult to tradition."

"That sounds like a problem for the Council."

"It becomes your problem when you are the one openly bonded to a human Omega." Maznik’s voice lowered. "If the public decides humans should not mate with Thraqens, they will stop at nothing to make an example out of someone."

Dron’s eyes darkened instantly. "Then they can try."

Maznik sighed heavily. "You still do not understand."

"No, you do not understand." Dron stepped closer, his voice turning rough. "I survived battlefields that would have broken most warriors. I survived abandonment. I survived being treated like a cursed animal my entire life." His muscles twitched faintly beneath his skin. "Whatever comes for her will go through me first."

Maznik stared at him for a long moment.

"There it is again."

Dron frowned. "What?"

"That." Maznik gestured vaguely toward him. "You speak as if she is already yours."

"She is under my protection."

Maznik barked out a laugh. "You will do everything except admit that the woman is your fated mate."

Dron went still.

"That is not possible."

"Not possible?" Maznik repeated incredulously. "You practically tore someone apart because they frightened her."

"She was in danger."

"You bought her a hitak because she looked sad."

Dron scowled. "That means nothing."

"You stare at her like a starving male."

"That also means nothing."

Maznik laughed harder at that. "You are hopeless."

Dron’s irritation only deepened. "Just because I felt something does not mean I have been blessed enough to have a fated mate."

The words tasted bitter coming out.

Blessed.

That was not a word usually associated with males like him.

Maznik’s amusement faded slightly at the edge of Dron’s tone. "Maybe not," he admitted. "But if I were you, I would stop pretending the bond is not there simply because it frightens you."

Dron looked away.

Fear had nothing to do with it.

At least, that was what he wanted to believe.

Maznik eventually clapped him once on the shoulder. "I should go before you start growling at me again."

Dron grunted in response.

"I will see you at the marketplace in two rotations?"

"Yes."

Maznik smirked. "Try not to scare your little human before then."

Dron glared at him until Maznik finally disappeared out the front entrance.

The house fell quiet after that.

Too quiet.

Dron stood there for a while before his feet eventually carried him toward Tempest’s room without permission from the logical part of his mind.

The door was partially open.

He stopped just outside of it.

Tempest sat cross-legged on the floor while the small hitak bounced wildly around her room. The tiny creature leapt over blankets and pillows while Tempest laughed every time it nearly toppled over itself.

The sound rooted Dron in place.

He could not remember the last time laughter existed inside these walls.

Tempest scooped the hitak into her lap and rubbed her face against the top of its head affectionately. Her hair had fallen loose around her shoulders, and the soft lighting in the room made her look warm. Gentle. Alive.

Dron’s chest ached unexpectedly.

He remembered what he told Maznik.

Not possible.

A male like him did not receive fate’s blessings.

He was scarred. Broken. Meant for war and isolation.

And yet...

His eyes stayed fixed on Tempest as she smiled down at the small creature in her arms.

Maybe rejecting the mating was a mistake.

The realization hit him harder than any battlefield injury ever had.

Even if she was not truly his to keep, she was here now. In his home. Laughing inside rooms that had once felt dead.

Perhaps he did not need forever.

Perhaps a small piece of happiness would be enough.

It would destroy him in the end. He knew that already.

But as Tempest laughed again and the hitak climbed onto her shoulder, Dron found himself wondering if a little euphoria might be worth the pain waiting for him afterward.

Dron remained in the hallway longer than he should have.

The logical thing to do would have been to walk away. To return to his room and put space between himself and whatever strange thing kept happening inside of his chest every time Tempest smiled.

Instead, he found himself leaning against the doorway watching her.

The hitak launched itself across the bed with a shrill chirping noise. Tempest let out a loud squeal and barely managed to catch the creature before it slammed directly into her face.

"Oh no, absolutely not," she laughed while trying to keep the squirming animal still. "You are way too energetic for something so tiny."

The hitak escaped her grasp anyway and immediately started bouncing around the bed in frantic circles.

Tempest gasped dramatically. "I think you might be a little defective."

A snort escaped him before he could stop it.

Tempest’s head snapped toward the doorway so quickly that Dron almost cursed himself for making noise at all.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

There was still tension between them after what happened earlier. Dron didn’t know what to call it. Every glance seemed heavier now. Every silence stretched too long.

Tempest’s expression softened slightly when she realized he’d been standing there watching her.

"You’re still here?" she asked quietly.

Dron crossed his arms over his chest. "It is my home."

"That’s not what I meant."

Of course it wasn’t.

The problem was that Dron didn’t know how to answer honestly without sounding weak.

I stayed because hearing you laugh makes this place feel less empty.

The thought irritated him immediately.

Tempest tilted her head slightly. "You can come in, you know."

Dron hesitated before stepping farther into the room.

The room smelled like her now. Soft and warm beneath the scent of the wooden walls and clean fabrics. The blankets on the bed were tangled from the hitak climbing all over them and for the first time in years the room actually looked lived in.

Alive.

Not like a temporary holding space for a human female he was supposed to eventually release back into the blessed lands.

The hitak immediately froze when Dron approached before scrambling directly toward his feet.

Disloyal little beast.

Tempest laughed softly. "Wow. Guess he already picked favorites."

"He senses authority," Dron muttered.

Tempest rolled her eyes. "Of course you’d say that."

Dron bent slightly and scooped the hitak into one hand. The small creature settled instantly against his palm, its oversized ears twitching lazily.

He could feel Tempest staring at him again.

Not the fearful stares he’d gotten used to his entire life.

Those he understood.

This was different. Softer somehow. Curious.

It made his skin feel too tight.

"See?" Dron lifted a brow at her. "Authority."

"Or maybe he just likes you."

The words hit harder than they should have.

Dron looked away before she could notice the effect they had on him.

"You get weird every time someone says something nice about you," Tempest said carefully.

"I do not."

"You do."

Dron narrowed his eyes at her. "You humans speak too much."

"And you avoid too much."

That struck closer to home than Dron cared to admit.

The hitak bounced between them again completely unaware of the strange tension thickening the room.

Dron looked back toward Tempest and found himself momentarily stuck.

Her hair was a mess from the long day. Her cheeks were slightly pink from laughing. She sat curled among the blankets with the tiny creature climbing over her legs as if she belonged there.

As if she belonged in his home.

The dangerous thought nearly stopped his breathing altogether.

Tempest shifted slightly beneath his stare and Dron realized he’d been looking too long.

But it was difficult to stop.

The more time he spent around her the harder it became to remember all the reasons he should stay away.

She looked at him like there was nothing wrong with him.

Like the markings crawling across his skin didn’t exist.

Like he was simply... a man.

Dron took one slow step closer before catching himself.

Tempest’s breathing hitched quietly.

The sound wrapped around his spine like heat.

The room suddenly felt too small.

"You should rest," Dron forced out. His voice sounded rougher than normal.

Tempest swallowed hard before nodding. "Right."

Neither of them moved.

The hitak suddenly chirped loudly between them, ruining the moment completely.

Tempest burst into laughter while Dron squeezed his eyes shut in irritation.

The sound of her laughing followed him even after he turned away from the doorway.

And for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, the house no longer felt like a prison.