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Patrick’s fingers spasmed over Fal’ran’s shoulders. “As…”
“You love a lot of people,” Fal’ran pushed.
“Not like you.” Patrick’s neck darkened with a flush that reached his cheeks, but he didn’t shy from Fal’ran’s gaze. “I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. Not even close.”
Fal’ran caught Patrick’s chin. “So, you don’t love me like a fellow soldier?” Patrick shook his head as much as Fal’ran’s grip allowed. “Like a brother?” Shake. “Like a child or a friend?”
“No, fuck, none of that. Fal’ran.” Patrick cupped the sides of Fal’ran’s neck. “I love you like a man I want to be with.”
“Good.” Fal’ran captured Patrick’s lips, swallowing down his groan and dipping his tongue into his mouth to steal his breath away. He pulled back before Patrick reciprocated. “Because I love you, too.”
“Fal’ran…” Patrick covered his face with hand. “You don’t have to say it back. That’s not what I—”
“I mean it.” Fal’ran tugged Patrick’s hand away from his face.
Patrick stepped back, his cheeks flaming. “Just because I said it—”
“But I thought it first.” Fal’ran scowled, but when Patrick laughed and rolled his eyes, he realized his hard scowl was more of a pout.
“Did you?” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
Patrick didn’t look convinced, and Fal’ran huffed at the unfairness of it. He had thought it first, but he hadn’t wanted to scare the skittish human away.
“I love you, Patrick,” Fal’ran tried again, and Patrick’s amused scent threaded with sweet longing. Fal’ran wrapped his hand around the back of Patrick’s neck and pulled him closer, watching the way hope glinted in his gorgeous eyes. “I mean it.”
Deliberately loud, stomping footsteps reverberated toward them, followed by Bar’in’s yelling voice. “I am coming around this corner and I’d better not see any penises!”
“Then maybe don’t come around the corner, Bar’in!” Fal’ran yelled back.
“Maybe put them away, Fal’ran!”
Starlight fell on Bar’in’s slight form as he rounded the corner.
Patrick stepped out of the circle of Fal’ran’s arms. He had a blush but didn’t blaze with embarrassment like he might have before he and Fal’ran started sleeping together. “What is it, Bar’in?”
Bar’in jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Sazahk’s discovered something you might want to hear about.”
Chapter Eighteen
“You three are ridiculous.” Bar’in sniffed toward Fal’ran, Patrick, and Sazahk and shook his head as though to shake the scent of their excitement out of his nose.
Sazahk fizzed with it, his steps over the rocky terrain light and quick and his movements jerky with eagerness as he scooped up bits of dirt and dumped them into his array of multicolored test tubes.
Fal’ran guessed his own scent resembled Patrick’s, light and crisp and sharp as a gatlung’s blade.
The night before, Sazahk had displayed his line of test tubes, ordering them from light lavender to a dark, almost black purple. Fal’ran had thought Patrick’s scent would sour with frustration and dismay.
But it hadn’t.
When Sazahk explained—with a lot of scientific words and references to microorganisms and Insect genetic markers—that the samples he’d been collecting showed an increasing presence of Insects in the direction they headed, Fal’ran’s stomach had dropped out. They’d been heading toward danger the whole time. And there they were, talking loudly with a lantern like a beacon, lighting up the whole damn street. But in the next second, it surged back into his throat. Excitement bubbled up from Patrick’s skin as they had the same thought in the same instant.
They could find the Insects.
Maybe.
As Sazahk pointed out, they had no reason to believe the Insects stayed in one place. They might be gone by the time their squad reached the end of the trail. And as Bar’in pointed out, it was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
