Page 31 of Thexan

I held her focus, allowing no ambiguity in the answer.

This should not occur under injury, under pressure, or because my system required it to maintain control.

She should have been given time. Space. The ability to choose without consequence.

But that option no longer existed.

Only her decision did.

“It requires mating.”

The words settled between us without distortion.

She did not pull away.

But she did not immediately respond either.

I continued, because partial information would serve no purpose.

“The process aligns biological systems at a deeper level. It completes the bond that has already been initiated. Without it, the instability you are observing will continue to escalate.”

“And if we don’t?” she asked.

“I will lose control.”

The answer was an outcome not a projection.

Her breath shifted slightly, not fear, not hesitation, but adjustment, as she absorbed the reality of what I had said and measured it against everything she had already chosen.

“And if we do?”

“The alignment will complete,” I said. “My system will stabilize.”

“For how long?”

“I do not know.”

The silence that followed was not uncertain, but deliberate. She was deciding.

I did not move to close the distance between us. I did not reach for her, did not allow the bond response to dictate action, even as it pressed harder against my control with each passing second.

“This is not required for you,” I said. “Only for me.”

Her gaze sharpened slightly at that.

“That’s not how this works,” she said quietly.

“You said it affects both of us.”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t frame it like I’m not part of the equation.”

I held her gaze.

“I am acknowledging your autonomy,” I said.

“And I’m acknowledging the reality of the situation,” she replied.