It’s been a long time since I fell asleep with a man. It’s been a long time since I fell asleep with anyone, and to be honest, the feeling scares me a little bit. It shouldn’t. I should feel safe and satisfied and I do. Maybe that’s the part that scares me. Maybe I’m not used to feeling like everything is going to be okay.
Maybe I’m not used to feeling like I’m safe.
I don’t toss or turn at all. Instead, I lay silently in the darkness and listen to Quinn breathe. Instead of sleeping, I think about my family, about my life on Mirroean.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I’m supposed to be getting married.
Granted, in the eyes of the law, being engaged is as legally binding as being married. That’s how Mirroean works. Once you’re engaged, you sign all these papers that basically mean you belong to your other person, your partner. “’Til death do us part,” might have been an old Earth tradition, but it stuck with the humans when they moved to Mirroean.
Some things you just can’t move past.
That’s one of them.
I wonder what happened to Darin and where my family is. I wonder if they’re dead or missing me. I wonder if they’re searching Dreagle for me. Did the Mirroean police come to find me? Is there a search party? Surely someone is looking for me. Surely, when our flight didn’t come back, someone decided to try to find me.
Surely.
Eventually, despite my mind going a thousand miles an hour, I fall into a restless sleep filled with nightmares and monsters.
Then I wake up.
“Good afternoon,” Quinn says. He’s not beside me, I realize. He’s across the room.
“Hi,” I mumble, sitting up groggily. I glance around the little space. Quinn is sitting at a desk doing something. Writing, maybe. Paperwork. I’m not entirely sure. “What time is it?”
“Time is irrelevant,” he says vaguely. Quinn gets up and carries over a cup of something. “Drink this,” he tells me.
At this point, I think I’ve gotten used to him being a little bossy, so I drink the hot beverage without arguing. It tastes almost like coffee, but it’s sweeter. Maybe it’s some sort of tea.
; “What is it?” I ask when I’m unable to place the flavor.
“Petal tea,” he says.
“Like petal juice?” It’s one of the most alcoholic beverages available in the universe and oh, so delicious.
“It’s slightly less alcoholic than petal juice,” he says.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask.
“On the contrary, little one. I want to help you wake up and feel a bit more alert. Petal tea is much better for that than petal juice.”
“Well, thank you,” I say, sipping it slowly. He hasn’t murdered me yet, hasn’t hurt me. He hasn’t locked me in a dungeon and tortured me, so I feel like I’ve got something going for me. I’ll still try to escape today, of course, but I’m glad I made it through the night.
Maybe Quinn isn’t as evil as I think he is. Then again, that’s just something I keep telling myself. Everything about him, at least so far, has been gentle. Even when he’s been harsh with me, he’s been gentle beneath that rough exterior. He’s a mystery to me, and one I want to solve.
“What are you doing?” I ask, nodding toward the papers. A tired expression crosses his face, but vanishes quickly.
“Nothing of importance.”
He puts the papers away and stands. Then he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s big, and his presence seems to take over the entire room. I finish my petal tea quickly and hand him the cup. I’m in over my head here and we both know it.
“It’s time for you to tell me who you are,” he says, setting the cup on the desk.
“What do you mean? I already told you,” I whisper. I told him more about my life than I should have, and it makes me nervous. Staring at him makes me nervous. Looking at his ripped alien body makes me nervous.