Page 82 of Thexan

A brief silence settled between us, thoughtful rather than uncomfortable.

“Does it feel different for you?” she asked.

I did not answer immediately.

The question required more precision than the biological explanation could provide. I understood the mechanics of the bond, but she was not asking about mechanics. She was asking what it meant inside me.

“Yes,” I said at last.

She lifted her head slightly. “How?”

I adjusted my hold on her, aligning the contact with the explanation because the physical truth of her against me was easier to understand than the language for it.

“It no longer presents as influence,” I said. “It presents as alignment.”

She frowned slightly. “That’s… very you.”

“It is accurate.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, then softened. “Try again.”

I held her gaze.

“It feels correct,” I said.

That caught her off guard.

“Correct?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

She considered that, then exhaled. “Okay. I can work with that.”

My hand moved again, resting more firmly against her back. Not restraining. Grounding.

“You experience no conflict?” I asked.

She considered the question honestly.

“No,” she said after a moment. “I expected to. I thought I’d be questioning everything, trying to figure out if this was just biology or if I’d completely lost my mind.”

“And?”

“And I’m not,” she said. “I know what this is. I feel it. But I also know I chose it.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m not second-guessing that,” she added. “Which is a little terrifying, if I’m being honest.”

“It is not an irrational response.”

She huffed a quiet breath. “Good to know I’m not completely off-track.”

“You are not.”

The certainty in my voice seemed to settle something in her, though I had not fully understood she still required settling.

Brynn shifted closer, closing the small space between us, letting herself relax fully this time instead of holding part of herself separate out of habit.