Page 41 of Interion

My body braced for the fall as a scream of horror escaped my lips. I was going to fall sideways—it would be a brutal landing. But before my hip hit the floor, Zion caught me—a bit awkwardly given the situation—and we tumbled together, me on top of him, his hands gripping my waist.

His back slammed into the floor, taking the full impact, and my chest pressed against his, knocking the breath out of me. The sudden awareness of my body against his made another scream escape me. His hands closed around my arms, holding me firmly, as if I might disintegrate right there. I clung to his shoulder, my heart still pounding a mile a minute, then finally raised my eyes to his face.

Zion's eyes were locked on my face. Heterochromatic eyes, full of endless undertones.

He studied me, looking surprised and confused. A moment of silence passed, marked only by the sound of our breathing, and suddenly the gravity of the situation hit us both. The surprise transformed into something different, and from this close, I noticed a feeling beginning to ignite in those eyes.

His warm, pleasant breath swept across my face, and despite the complicated situation I found myself in, his scent made me want to stay there forever. Zion’s gaze drifted from my face, sliding lower as I felt his hands glide over my skin, exploring the feel of me. Something purred awake inside me, like a wild animal demanding I stay close. I also noticed shadows everywhere, crawling uncontrolled on all sides, in sync with my heartbeat.

When Zion’s eyes traveled over my breasts, pressed against his chest, I felt as if that gaze were touching me. My skin prickled, and the scent of my arousal filled the air, screaming for attention.

And then, he woke from the trance.

The flames that had been there before turned to shock, interrupting any thought of our bodies together. The shadows retreated quickly, as if burned, shrinking until they disappeared completely. Zion slowly removed his hands from me, seeming uncertain where to put them. His eyes were closed now, so he wouldn’t have to look at me.

In an instant, I stood up, shaken and embarrassed, trying to hide my body as much as possible with my hands. He got up right after, rigid as a statue, and turned away, avoiding my eyes.

Still not meeting my eyes, Zion removed his uniform jacket, leaving only the vest and simple green shirt, then handed me the garment. He seemed about to say something, but fell silent and took two steps back, as if waiting for me to get dressed.

Trembling, I slipped into his jacket, which was so large it covered me down to my knees.

“What the fuck is this, Kyller?” Zion demanded a few seconds later. My cheeks flushed even deeper as I felt like the stupidest being in the galaxy.

“I... I... I was trying to get the key to open the spare clothes locker,” I stammered, tremors shaking me violently. This would be the worst time to have a crisis.

“What happened to your clothes?” he asked, trying to control his tone. His hands were clenched into fists, his eyes remained tightly shut, and from what I could see, his breathing wasn’t any better than mine.

“Someone took them... I... When I came out of the shower, my towel was gone.”

My heart beat frantically, and the knots in my throat tightened so much I didn’t know whether to vomit or cry. It was a panic attack—I recognized the symptoms. Zion opened his eyes, probably hearing my heart and my labored breathing.

“What’s happening?” he asked, still not looking at me, but some stray shadows shot from his arms, as if they wanted to touch me. Another tremor shook me violently, and I felt I needed to sit down or I’d collapse.

“No-nothing.”

I inhaled, trying to calm myself, but the situation only got worse. The blood drained from my face, and I felt my body turning as cold as ice. Zion turned to me, and I dared to meet his gaze as he assessed me in astonishment. Yes, there was surprise and horror in his eyes—the scene before him must have been deplorable, because he disappeared into the wall’s shadow.

I sat on the floor, curling into a fetal position, grateful he had left. Now I could agonize in peace until the episode passed. But seconds later, he materialized at my side with a blanket. I looked at him, surprised and shocked, as he wrapped the blanket firmly around me and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, holding my body tight against his chest. Zion entered the wall’s shadow, and I felt the darkness covering me. I blinked, and we passed through a tree’s shadow. When I opened my eyes again, we were in my room. He placed me on the bed, which made me tremble even more from the sudden absence of his warmth.

“Tell me what I can do to help,” he pleaded, anguish in his voice. The feelings caught me by surprise, and I was startled to feel his distress. I was confused to actually be feeling what he felt, and in the midst of that confusion, I noticed something in a forgotten corner of my mind—something bright that seemed to vibrate. It was a path that had long been neglected. The compatibility bond.

“No-nothing,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “Ju-just leave me.”

My body curled up even more, as if trying to disappear from his sight, but there was nowhere to hide, and his gaze kept me lucid enough to fight the hallucinations. Soon, he slid to the floor beside the bed, gently, as if expecting me to push him away. I didn’t have the strength for that, and it became clear I wouldn’t when I closed my eyes, fighting another tremor. I felt Zion move, and his hand slid around mine, intertwining our fingers. The touch burned like before, but this time it was a calming burn.

“Just breathe. I’ll stay right here,” he said, and somehow, I knew it was true, because a feeling of fierce protection came from the bond. A bond. I felt like crying when I sensed it at the back of my mind. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I liked the connection. It was stupid and emotionally weak on my part, but I liked knowing that, somehow, I wasn’t alone.

I contemplated that new discovery and, minutes later, opened my eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm my racing heart. The warmth slowly returned to my limbs; it no longer felt like someone was crushing my lungs, but the shame of being caught naked was still overwhelming. Zion continued to stare at the night outside, and I thought about what to say. I knew no words would help much. Still, I tried:

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in the dark, fighting back tears that insisted on falling. That day had been too much for my nerves. He squeezed my hand a little tighter.

“You don't need to say anything,” Zion reassured me, gazing at the city glittering with golden lights through the glass wall. I looked down at our hands, still intertwined.

“I... didn't mean to. The scent... I wasn't in control. And the bond... I didn't know it could be like that.”

Zion turned to me, and I looked at the ceiling, unable to face him.

“Don't be ashamed of what happened, Kyller. There's nothing shameful about it—it probably would have happened sooner or later.” I refused to look at him, my cheeks burning with shame despite his words. “I know it's not your fault. We're not to blame for what's happening. Sometimes the bond is just irrational.”