It had been two days since Kincaid secured his fated pair and he had not seen him since that first day. His servants sent him daily reports on his pair’s health, but only to tell him when a wave has started or subsided. 

Kincaid ordered the servants to refrain from giving him the details. He did not want to be distracted by such frivolous matters. He had more important things to worry about. Like the impending annihilation of the entire Naerian race along with many others. 

He was running out of time. 

Kincaid was going through the latest reports on his desk when a knock interrupted his concentration. 

“Enter,” he called out without looking up. 

“General,” a voice greeted. 

Kincaid looked up and saw Pelryn standing there with his golden hair neatly brushing his broad shoulders and his morá shimmered forest green with unease.

“What is it, Pelryn?” Kincaid asked, concern furrowed his brow. 

He glanced warily at the Guards posted at the door. Kincaid noticed the look and dismissed them. They left without a word, closing the large wooden doors behind them. 

Pelryn let out a relieved sigh before stepping deeper into the office and taking the seat before Kincaid’s large desk. 

Kincaid waited patiently for the Councilor to begin speaking. 

Pelryn cleared his throat. 

“I’m coming to you not as a Councilor, but as a friend.”

Kincaid raised a brow and straightened in his chair. 

It was true that they had grown up together, been friends since they were fledglings. But once they grew older, their duties pointed them in different paths. It had been awhile since their friendship had been spoken of. To bring it up now after all this time brought Kincaid to alert. 

“Speak, my friend. What ails you?” Kincaid said with a softness in his voice few had the privilege of hearing. 

“I know this is none of my concern and when it comes to fated pairs I have no right to interject but...I have heard him,” Pelryn said quietly. A flash of sadness glittered in his golden eyes. 

“Who?” Kincaid asked. 

“Your pair. He screams--”

“They all scream while in Rut. This you know,” Kincaid cut him off with a dismissive shake of his head and wave of his hand. 

“No, friend. It is not the same. The ones I hear are those of madness.” His tone was sharp and eyes were blazing. “They do not teach us this when we are fledglings. Even more so now with our breeders coming from a race that most of our kind see as...lesser. But if you do not do something about his Rut, your pair will die in the most excruciating way possible.”

Kincaid sighed. He knew Pelryn was more...sympathetic than others of their kind, but he should know better than to push those same sentiments on others. 

He spoke in dramatics. 

“Listen friend, redrya are weak. Even more so after the effects of the Gemma Crystals. Their minds and bodies are easily corrupted. Being without his pair, unbonded, will drive him insane. If they do not receive the release they seek they will find it elsewhere.”

Kincaid glared. “He cannot seek another. He is chained.”

Pelryn shook his head, expression grave. 

“That is not the release I speak of.”

Kincaid stared at him for a while, eyes narrowing before widening in shock. 

“He would not,” Kincaid whispered. 

Pelryn’s expression grew fierce. “He would! And he will if you do not do something soon. So many have died and that secret dies with them. I know you, Kincaid. You are not cruel. The bond may not affect Naerians the way it does redrya, but I know you would not condemn him to such a fate.”

“How do you know this?” 

“Because I have witnessed it with my own. I was not always considerate of the redrya, you know this. I had not believed in the power we held over them until I saw the madness creep into my Gabriel. He would not eat, he would not sleep, he would not speak for days. Then he screamed and never stopped. After that came the self mutilation.”

Pelryn’s morá dimmed into a sorrowful blue.

“I was seconds from losing my pair, Kincaid. Seconds, because I abandoned him. I implore you not to make the same mistake I had.”

Kincaid’s gaze was downcast as he processed this new information.

“If you do not wish to mate him, just be there for him. Your presence will be enough to help him through,” Pelryn said before slowly retreating from the room, leaving Kincaid conflicted. 

*

Kincaid finished up most of the paperwork that had piled up in his absence and read through a quarter of the reports that were filed. When the evening was fresh, he stretched his limbs and made a decision. 

Instructing his lieutenant that he was not to be disturbed for the rest of the night, he headed to his rooms. 

The air was thick and it grew heavier the closer he got to his bedchamber. 

When he finally pushed through the doors, it was eerily quiet inside. 

Kincaid scanned the room and did not see his pair. It was only when he entered the room further that he noticed a trail of tossed food on the floor with an overturned metal cart. Kincaid’s brow furrowed as he turned the corner and noticed his pair huddled in the corner of the room with his chain stretched tight. From this angle, he could not tell if the redrya was even conscious. 

He walked closer and noticed vomit dribbling from the redrya’s pink lips. It was smeared along his stomach and under even further inspection, the Naerian noticed the redrya was in fact awake and trembling. His eyes were cracked but unseeing. Dried tears were caked into his skin and vicious scratches covered his arms and thighs. 

Kincaid knew little of redrya Ruts, but he was certain they were not like this. 

“Reid,” Kincaid called to the human. His head tilted a fraction, but there was no real acknowledgement that he heard his name. Those brown eyes remained vacant and unseeing.

Unease curled in Kincaid’s gut as he replayed Pelryn’s words of madness through his mind again. He turned back to the door and swung it open to call for servants. 

They rushed in at his command. 

“Clean him up,” Kincaid ordered. “And fetch me a chair.”

The servants scurried to do his bidding. He watched as they cleaned him, force fed him, and tucked him back into the bed. All without protest from the redrya, who eventually fell asleep. Kincaid watched him even as the servants left. For hours he sat in the chair across from the bed and watched the state of his pair. 

Feeling as though he had been led astray, Kincaid began to wonder if there was anything really wrong at all. 

Until the screaming began. 

Reid’s back arched off the bed as he writhed in agony. His sweaty russet brown skin glittered with the Gemma Crystal dust that lived just beneath and spoke when his fated pair was near. 

Kincaid’s morá throbbed in response. He remained seated, but called out to him. “Reid.”

Reid’s eyes snapped open at the Naerian’s voice and head jolted in his direction. When he noticed his pair sitting there, he began to move. Fast. Reid raced for Kincaid, ready to pounce, but the chain on his ankle kept him a few feet out of reach. 

Reid mewled in desperation and Kincaid knew it was begging, even without words being expressed. 

But he also knew that this was not what the redrya wanted. It was only his instincts, so Kincaid refused to mate him. 

He just hoped that his willpower would last for the rest of the Rut.

*

His body was betraying him. Every part of him screamed in protest with each inch he dragged himself away. He needed to be closer, smell that unearthly scent that clung to his nostrils mercilessly promising sweet release and unending happiness.

Just give in, his body begged.

He needed him like he needed air to breathe. To drink him in like a glass of water after years in the desert. He needed him so badly, he thought he just might die. 

And maybe he would. The Ruts were never this bad before. Uncomfortable to say the least, but not unbearable.

No.

This was something else entirely. Like his blood was melting through his skin. A fever that would end him in the slowest, most painful way possible. He just wanted it to end. But to end this pain now meant the end of another. 

His rebellion. 

And he promised.

He swore he would not let the Naerians get the best of him. But as the seconds ticked by, and his body craved like nothing he had ever experienced, his fire slowly started to die. The fight in him vanished. He was tired. So very tired. 

“Em...kii,” Reid groaned. 

The Naerian made no move toward him at the sound of his pair calling him. Just stared with those strange alien eyes. Those Dragon eyes, with slitted pupils and reptilian grace.

“Emkii,” Reid whispered. His voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. 

Please.

*

Kincaid clenched the armchair tightly, the wood splintering in his grip. His morá throbbed that hot, dark red, filled with lust. 

“I will not touch you,” Kincaid gritted out. It was hard for him to contain himself. With the overwhelming scent of Reid’s Rut and waves of pheromones pouring off of him, it was close to impossible. Every cell in his body was urging him to mate. Take the offering that was so sweetly displayed before him. Begging. Actually begging to be taken. 

Kincaid’s jaw was clenched so tightly, the pain was actually giving him a headache. He didn’t know how much longer he could fight against his instincts. Rules be damned, he needed to leave. But one look at his mate had him hesitating. 

He couldn’t leave. 

Not when Reid was like this. Not when he needed him so badly. Though he was not touching him. The scent of him eased the redrya’s Rut...just a little. If Kincaid were to leave him like this? The results would be catastrophic...for both of them.

Pelryn had told Kincaid before that if Ruts were left unattended between fated pairs, some redrya snapped and took their own lives. Death was a mercy, the better alternative than endurance. 

This is why Kincaid didn’t want a mate. The responsibility was too much. 

“Emkii! Emkii! Emkii!” Reid sobbed from the bed. Tears streaming from those dark eyes, filled with such desperation and pain. His hips rocked, back arched, fingers trembled as he spread his cheeks apart, beckoning the Naerian with what would have been the beautiful sight of his birthing sheath as it dripped with fluid if the angle was right. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he could not see it. Who knows how his resolve would have held? Still… 

Kincaid squeezed his eyes shut but the image was burned into his mind so clearly, he’d dream about it tonight. 

“Reid,” Kincaid began, eyes still closed. 

Reid moaned at the sound of his voice. 

Kincaid swallowed noisily before sucking in a deep pheromone filled breath.

“Reid,” Kincaid started again. “Do you really want this?”

“Need! Need! Need!” Reid screamed, sinking deeper into his arch, spreading himself further, beautiful skin glimmering. The darkness nearly spread over his entire body, enveloping the brown, twinkling with tiny specks of blues, golds, oranges, pinks, reds, purples, yellows, greens. 

Kincaid swore when he opened his eyes to the feast. How could he possibly deny this? How could he reject this offer? It went against his very nature. 

Against his better judgement, Kincaid stood, making a move toward the bed. Reid whimpered eagerly, eyes burning as he tracked Kincaid’s every movement. 

It was that gaze that told Kincaid he shouldn’t do this. 

And against all of his screaming instincts, throbbing morá...he turned and left.