Dagon sighed. “Is the latter Brohko?”
“Yes.”
Eliana laughed. The young soldier had looked a little woozy earlier when she and her sparring partners inadvertently drew blood.
Dagon smoothed his thumb across her hand. He seemed in no hurry to leave and stayed with her while the virus did its thing after the transfusion ended.
The fact that she healed quickly didn’t mean Eliana felt no pain. Sometimes healing hurt as much as incurring the initial injury. But she found it much easier to ignore with Dagon’s muscled thigh pressing against her hip and his hand holding hers.
“I know you heal swiftly,” he said finally, “but would you allow Adaos to give you a silna to speed your recovery even more?”
She glanced at the medic. “What exactly does a silna do?”
“It boosts the immune system and enhances the body’s ability to repair injuries and overcome illnesses, shortening recovery time.” Adaos glanced at his commander, then met her gaze. “But because of the manner in which your immune system differs from ours, I don’t think it advisable.”
Dagon frowned. “Why?”
Eliana smiled when Adaos opted not to reply, liking him even more for adhering to his promise to keep her patient information private. “It’s okay.” She squeezed Dagon’s hand. “The weird virus the Gathendiens created has basically replaced my immune system. So we don’t really know what a silna would do—if it would aid the virus in making repairs or attack the virus and maybe make things worse. If it eradicated the virus entirely, it would leave me with no viable immune system.”
His frown deepened as his fingers tightened around hers.
“But don’t worry. I don’t need a silna. I’m healing fast enough without it and should be fine by the time we finish last meal.” Or after a long healing sleep.
“Commander Dagon,” a faint male voice said.
He tapped his earpiece. “Yes, Janek?”
“You have an incoming communication from Commander Tiran.”
“Direct it to my office. I’ll be there in a moment.” He gave their clasped hands a pat, then released her and rose. “An incoming communication awaits me.”
“Okay.” She should probably tell him her ears were sharp enough to allow her to overhear anything broadcast over his earpiece. Dagon had been awesome about accepting the peculiarities she had already demonstrated, so she thought he’d take it well.
“You’ll be all right?”
She smiled. “Yes. As soon as I’m done here, I plan to have a shower and maybe lie down for a bit. I always heal faster when I sleep.”
Adaos perked up. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Would you sleep in here and allow me to monitor—”
“Adaos,” Dagon intoned with a warning scowl.
Eliana wondered if the medic would reveal that she had agreed to let him study her if he would allow her to pump him for information about how to woo Dagon.
When he didn’t, she sent him a smile. “Maybe next time.”
“Only,” Dagon interjected, “if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Okay.”
Turning away, he strode for the door but hesitated when he reached it and looked at her over his shoulder. “Will you join me for last meal?”
Her heart gave a little flutter as she nodded. “Absolutely.”
Smiling, he left.
Dagon barked out a laugh. He and Eliana had shared yet another enchanting last meal together while a holowindow bathed them in the light of a setting sun. Now they headed toward her quarters.
As they did, he silently admitted he was loath to see their time together end, so he restricted his pace to a leisurely stroll while she regaled him with comical tales of other opponents who—like Efren, Maarev, and Liden—had dramatically underestimated her ability to defeat them.
Every time she grinned or laughed, warmth suffused him and stretched his lips in a smile. And every time she bumped his arm with her shoulder or nudged him with her elbow, little tingles raced along his flesh and stole his breath. How would she respond if he suddenly interrupted her and told her she made him feel like a youth experiencing his first infatuation?
That he felt young at all amazed him. His arduous climb up the chain of command had been a long one, peppered with both wins and losses that had taken their toll. Some soldiers he’d considered friends had grown bitter and hostile when they were passed over for promotion in favor of him. Many others had simply drifted away when differing missions had parted them for months at a time. Dagon reconnected with the latter whenever they all ended up in the same place. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed the Aldebarian Alliance’s biannual war games so much. They enabled him to see old friends again.
But there were others he would not see again. Those who had fallen in combat.
Every life lost under his command had cost him and resurfaced periodically to haunt his dreams.
Yet now, as Eliana nudged him again with her elbow and stared up at him with her pretty brown eyes full of amusement, he fought the desire to reach out, twine his fingers through hers, and swing their arms between them in a rare boyish burst of joy.
He might have actually done it, too, if they didn’t pass soldiers and other crewmen so frequently.
Eliana seemed as reluctant to end their time together as he, her steps slowing more and more as they approached their destination. Alas, they reached her quarters anyway.
“And what did he say once he regained consciousness?” Dagon asked, fighting another smile as he awaited her response.
She placed her palm on the reader and opened her door. “He said his grandmother was right: dynamite does come in small packages.”
Amusement once more bubbled up inside him. “Is my translator right? Is dynamite an explosive on Earth?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
She did, too.
Apparently, all Immortal Guardians on Earth were assigned Seconds, who seemed to be the equivalent of the Lasaran royal family’s Yona guard and protected them. The one in question—a hulking man named Kevin who had guarded Eliana years ago—had driven her mad, constantly underestimating her ability to take care of herself. This Kevin, she’d explained, had spent most of his life watching over five younger sisters and just couldn’t seem to break the habit, transferring all the concern and overprotectiveness he felt for them onto Eliana’s narrow shoulders, insisting he accompany her on all her hunts and hovering so much she had finally broken down and—at Seth’s suggestion—shown him just how capable she was of defending herself.
Eliana stepped into her room and turned to face him. “Kevin is now married with four daughters, so I have no doubt that he repeats that mantra often.”
He chuckled. “As well he should.”
Anticipation usurped amusement’s place as he stared down at her, waiting for her nightly hug.
Perhaps tonight he would linger and—
“Greetings, Eliana,” CC said in her serene voice.
Blinking, she glanced over her shoulder, then up at the ceiling. “Hi, CC.”
Dagon hid his amusement at her tendency to look up whenever she addressed the computer.
“You have one communication awaiting your attention,” CC announced.