I couldn't sleep.
The apartment was too quiet, unnaturally quiet, like the world was holding its breath. Liam's words wouldn't leave me alone. Peter's the scientific head of Faringue... twelve of them in captivity... one born there... My mind replayed it all in an endless loop.
I shifted from side to side, my sheets crumpling beneath me. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the slow, liquid slosh from the bathroom where K'liira had finally retreated to her tub—those were the only sounds accompanying my unrest. It felt like the silence was accusing me, crawling into my skin with every second I failed to shut my thoughts off.
Eventually, I gave up. I threw off the blanket and padded into the hallway barefoot, meaning only to get a glass of water. But as I stepped out, I caught sight of him—Delmar. Standing by the window in the living room, bathed in faint moonlight. His silhouette looked carved from stillness, his arms folded, broad shoulders tense, a frown drawn deep into his brows.
I paused at the doorway, unsure if I should disturb him. What would I even say? What could I say? My chest ached with guilt—not for something I did, but for what my kind had done. And he had every right to feel the way he did.
But before I could think of an excuse to turn around, he spoke.
"Kash," Delmar said softly, still staring outside. "Don't just keep standing there."
I swallowed, stepping forward, tentative. The light from the street lamp spilled across the floor, catching the edges of his face as I moved closer.
"What are you doing up so late?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to me, something soft and tired flickering in his gaze. "What are you doing?"
I offered him a half-smile, more tired than amused. "I couldn't sleep."
"Me neither." His hand lifted, warm and gentle as he cupped the side of my face. His thumb grazed my cheekbone. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
My breath caught. There was something raw in his voice, like a thread unraveling. I didn't know what to do with the weight of that emotion except take it in and let it sit heavy inside me.
"We're in this together," I said quietly.
Delmar stepped closer, and the space between us filled with the heat of his bare skin, a living presence so palpable it pulled me in without permission. My heart thudded wildly as he stared down at me, his eyes catching every flicker of doubt in mine.
"When I go to HMORC tomorrow—"
"When we go," I interrupted.
He frowned, the muscle in his jaw tightening. "No. You're not going there for this."
"Are you crazy?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "I work there. I've already been inside B-wing. No one's going to suspect me. I'm the safest one to go."
His eyes darkened. "No," he said again, firmer this time. "I can't... I won't put you in danger."
"You're not putting me in anything. I'm choosing this," I whispered, stepping closer until our bodies nearly touched. "I chose this the moment I decided to take my PhD there. The only thing that scares me more than this entire goddamn situation... is something happening to you. If they find out who you are—Delmar, I don't want them to take you away. I—I just..."
I didn't get to finish.
Delmar pulled me in—fast, firm—his mouth crashing against mine with the force of a dam finally breaking. All the fear, the panic trembling in my voice, vanished beneath the press of his lips. It wasn't just a kiss. It was something wild and raw and real, something that reached beneath my skin and set every nerve alight.
His mouth was hot, desperate. Mine parted instinctively, breath catching as our lips moved together—messy, aching, as if we were trying to outrun the truth. Liam's revelations. The horrors of the institute. The fear clawing at the back of our throats. None of it mattered here. Not with him.
Delmar's hands gripped my waist, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, rough fingertips skating across my bare skin like he needed to memorize every inch. I gasped into his mouth, stunned by the searing need shooting through me. He didn't stop. He lifted me—effortlessly—until my thighs bumped the edge of the windowsill, the cold glass brushing my back in stark contrast to the heat pouring off him.
But it wasn't rushed. It wasn't violent.
It was slow. Intentional. A claiming—like he was relearning the shape of my mouth, the taste of my breath. His lips moved over mine with reverence, like I was something sacred and breakable. My fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, grounding myself in the solid, immovable strength of him.
When his hands slid down, resting at the narrow of my waist, I let out a sound—quiet, helpless. I didn't mean to make it, but it left me anyway. And Delmar felt it. He responded immediately, pulling me closer, his forehead brushing mine, breath ragged and warm.
"I need you, Kash," he whispered against my jaw, voice fraying at the edges. "Like I've never needed anything in my life. I want to respect your choices. I don't want to force you into something you're unsure of. I know I'm not human. But what I feel for you..." his breath shivered across my skin, "...it goes beyond that. It goes beyond what I am."
I closed my eyes, heart pounding.
"I know," I breathed. "It's hard for me too. I keep watching you search for apartments. I know it shouldn't bother me. You're allowed a life of your own. You've got K'liira to protect. And I—I'm just me."
My voice faltered.
"I don't even know if I'm worthy of your love," I whispered, threading my fingers into his dark, silken hair. "But I need to stop thinking tonight. Just for tonight. Can you help me do that? Help me stop thinking, Delmar?"
A low sound escaped him, something between a growl and a groan. "I thought you'd never ask," he husked.
Then he was touching me—everywhere. His hands roamed over my body like they belonged there. Like I belonged to him.
His fingers trailed down my chest, finding the buttons of my shirt and undoing them one by one. Slowly. Purposefully. As each button came undone, his knuckles brushed against my bare skin, sending sparks crawling down my spine. My breath stuttered.
He pushed the shirt down my shoulders, baring me to the moonlight pouring in through the glass. His lips followed immediately—warm, insistent—pressing against the hollow of my throat, sliding across my collarbone, his tongue tasting me like he was dying of thirst and I was the only thing that could quench it.
I tilted my head back, my spine arching, offering him everything. My skin burned under his mouth. His hands held me steady, firm but never possessive. Never cruel.
Just his.
Delmar gills opened and closed on his neck, his skin shimmered faintly in the dark, the lines of his muscles accentuated by the dining room light. The shadows only making it look more prominent.
He closed his mouth on a spot on my neck sucking on the sensitive skin before soothing spot with a lick. "I've wanted this since the first day I saw you," he said smiling against my neck.
"Then shut up and take it," I breathed.
His laugh was a low growl as he lifted me, carried me to the couch like I weighed nothing. The world shrank to the feel of him, his hands on my hips, his mouth on my chest, his breath against my neck.
There was a reverence to the way he touched me. A desperation too. Like he didn't know how long this would last and wanted to memorize every inch.
My hands drifted downward, settling at the waistband of his pants. I hesitated, glancing up at him, eyes asking the question I couldn't voice.
Delmar nodded, silent and still.
My fingers trembled as I undid the lapels. A breath hitched in my throat, not entirely from anticipation, though that pulsed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat, but from uncertainty. I had wondered, more times than I could count, what he looked like. I even came close to asking once, but shame had sealed my lips.
Now I stood on the edge of that mystery.
And when I finally tugged the fabric down—
I froze.
My breath left me in a sharp, startled gasp.
Of course I should have guessed. After seeing the tentacles from his back, slick, otherworldly, alive, I should've known. But nothing could have prepared me for this.
It pulsed. Moved, like it had a will of its own. The flesh glistened, wet and sinewy, contracting in subtle waves like it was alive. It was longer, thicker, and unlike anything human. At the tip, it tapered to a curved, pointy end, not unlike the appendages that sometimes unfurled from his back. It looked like a living weapon.
My expression must have betrayed me, because he cleared his throat softly, voice low and guarded. "We're not physically compatible, Kash. I figured that out early, when I started watching human porn," he admitted, almost sheepishly. "I realized I couldn't... do with you what I'd do with one of my own kind. But that doesn't mean I can't pleasure you."
Something inside me deflated, and I hated that it did. I'd imagined it before, being with him. I never thought about whether our bodies were even meant to fit. I wanted to laugh at myself for how stupid I'd been.
Still, I couldn't stop staring. "Why does it look like a weapon?" I asked, my voice a little too breathless. "What does that pointy end do?"
His lips curved with a strange, fond smile. "Omegas have egg sacs in their birthing canals. The tip deposits sperm onto each one."
My eyes widened. "That's... intense. And that's pleasurable?"
He chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm. "So I've been told. I've never done it myself, so I can't say from experience. But my peers say yes, it's supposed to feel incredible."
I blinked at him, confused. "Wait. You've never...? Not even once?"
Delmar shook his head, expression quiet and open. "No."
A strange ache bloomed in my chest. I looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by feelings I couldn't name. "You should be with someone from your own species. Someone who can give you the experience you deserve. Is... is Delmar even your real name? I gave you that name. I don't even know what your name is."
He was silent for a moment. Then, softly, "I don't remember the life before I turned Alpha. My beta years are... foggy. Most Alphas are like that. Before the change, we're suppressed, subdued. We don't feel fully present in our own skin. Memories blur, fade. So no—before you, I didn't have a name. Not really. It was you who gave me one. You made me... me. Delmar. Your Delmar."
I bit my lip, emotions twisting tight inside my throat.
"This... this isn't fair to you," I whispered. "I'd never be able to make you happy."
"You think sex is what would make me happy?" he asked, stepping closer, voice suddenly fierce and tender at once. "No, Kash. You sitting beside me, breathing the same air, laughing, arguing with me about the dishes, that's what makes me the happiest man alive. Just touching you... kissing you... it's enough. It's everything."
I shook my head, throat burning. "I don't understand. Why me? Out of everyone, why me? What do you even see in me?"
His hand found my chest, resting right above my heart.
"I wish I could give you a reason. I really do. But it's not logical. It's not explainable. It's just this... this pull inside me. Like a thread anchored deep in my soul that leads only to you. I don't know why my Faringue body chose a human as a mate. I wish I could tell you but I don't have any explanation."
His hand rested on my chest, right above my heart. The warmth of his palm bled through the thin cotton of my shirt like a silent promise.
"I wish I could give you a reason," he said again, his voice quieter now, "but it's not something I chose. It's this... pull inside me. Like a thread anchored in the deepest part of me that leads only to you."
I looked up at him, breathing unevenly, throat tight with something I didn't know how to name. Something caught between guilt and awe. Between longing and unworthiness.
I dropped my eyes, ashamed. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't think I can... right now."
Delmar's brows furrowed in concern, but then his expression softened into something painfully tender. "You don't have to explain, Kash," he said, voice low, warm. "You don't owe me anything."
He walked to where my shirt had falled and put it back over my shoulder. I put it on, feeling guilty for everything. HMORC, for not able to give Delmar a happy partener.
I closed my eyes, exhaling a long, shaky breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
He leaned in and hooked his hand under my thighs. "Come here." And pulled me on his lap. Then, with one strong arm, wrapped me against his chest. My face landed right where his heart beat slow and steady. He held me like I was something fragile, something sacred. And I sank into him.
The night outside stretched dark and silent beyond the window. A single streetlamp flickered. K'liira's gentle humming echoed faintly from the bathroom. And here, in the cocoon of Delmar's arms, I let myself breathe.
His fingers threaded through my hair, smoothing it back gently. "I love Kash and that's enough. You don't have to feel that you need to reciprocate in anyway, physically or emotionally.," he murmured.
"I feel like I am using you Delmar," I admitted, my voice a rasp against his chest.
"It's the opposite Kash, I am using you," he said simply. "I followed you here. I am taking your help to rescue my people. So if anything I am using you."
I curled into him tighter, clutching the fabric at his waist, burying my nose into the crook of his neck.
We lay there like that for a long time, saying nothing, needing nothing. Just heartbeats and breath, the soft rhythm of our bodies tangled together, two different creatures trying to find peace in a world that had given them none.
Eventually, sleep tugged at the edges of my awareness.
***
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