Page 104 of Thexan

That statement aligned with tactical reality.

It also aligned with what Brynn would likely say.

Tanner walked away before I responded, leaving me beside the reinforced fence with the darkening sky overhead and the settlement beginning to settle into evening behind me.

I remained there a moment longer, not to continue the argument with myself, but because the conclusion had already changed.

I had been evaluating departure as protection.

Now I understood it as fear shaped into strategy.

That did not make the threat less real. It did not reduce the danger my past could still bring to this place. But Brynn had not asked for a life without danger. She had asked for a say in the life we built around it.

And I had agreed.

The bond drew me toward the infirmary as soon as I turned, but this time I did not mistake its pull for command. It was only the direction of what I already wanted.

I found Brynn inside, standing at the worktable with a jar of salve in one hand and a list of supply counts in the other. She looked up as I entered, her gaze moving over my face with the same quick, perceptive attention that had undone so many of my attempts to conceal strain.

“What happened?” she asked.

I stopped just inside the doorway.

“I considered leaving.”

The salve jar lowered slowly to the table.

Her expression did not change at first, but the bond between us did. The warmth sharpened into something tighter, something that moved through me with immediate consequence.

I continued before she could speak, because partial information would be an error.

“I considered it as a protective measure,” I said. “Not because I want distance from you. The thought of leaving you causes distress I cannot classify in sufficient terms, and I do not want any future in which I am not beside you. But I believed my presence might continue to place you and the settlement at risk.”

She stared at me for a long moment.

Then she set the list down.

Very carefully.

“Thexan,” she said, her voice quiet enough that I understood the depth of her anger before it rose, “we need to talk.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Brynn

For a few seconds, I was too angry to speak.

That was probably fortunate, because the first words that rose in me would not have helped either of us. I stood behind the worktable with the salve jar beside one hand and the supply list lying forgotten near the other, looking at the alien warrior who had come into my life half-dead, had become my mate before I had time to understand the shape of that word, had fought for my people, had stood beside me in front of them, and now calmly told me he had considered leaving as a protective measure.

A protective measure.

I took two breaths before answering. If I let the fear underneath my anger speak first, I would hurt him without making him understand.

Thexan remained just inside the doorway, still and watchful, his attention fixed on me with the kind of focus I had learned meant he was listening to more than words. He could probably feel the change in me through the bond, the sudden tightening, the hurt I had no intention of disguising, the hard, bright flare of anger that came from realizing he had looked at leaving me and managed to dress it up as strategy.

“You considered leaving,” I said at last.

“Yes.”