Kor’ven had never been so utterly humiliated in his life.

Not only had he been called to task for possibly jeopardizing the future of the Karuvar, he’d been called to task by the Pathfinder, the one person he respected above all others. It was disgraceful. He’d dedicated his entire life to the bigger picture of this particular dilemma--to trying to uncover why the Karuvar could no longer breed--and now the Pathfinder was accusing him of letting his emotions get in the way of his work.

And… he was absolutely right. That was perhaps the most shameful thing about it.

It would be easy to blame Adi’sun, except for the fact that he knew she was blameless in this. It was biology, or at the very least, the coding in their implants. There was nothing either of them could truly do about that. But Doctor Mun’roh was only responding to what Kor’ven put forth. The hostility, the haughty arrogance, the complete unwillingness to compromise? That had all come from him, and he knew it.

His ears drooped and his shoulders sagged. Easy tells for anyone who was paying attention--especially for a human who’d spent as much time studying the Karuvar as Adi’sun had--but he could scarcely find it in him to care. Karuvar believed in honor about all else; in serving their families and their people as a whole. Some served through their might, others through their intellect.

But to fail the Pathfinder was to fail at everything the Karuvar stood for, and it sickened him.

“He’s right,” he heard Adi’sun say. “This pettiness between us has to stop. There’s too much at stake here.”

It did not feel entirely appropriate to call the feud between them pettiness. Not when Kor’ven had manufactured so much of it as a safety measure. He had doubts about Adi’sun’s work, yes, but they were the same doubts he would have about anyone he had not worked closely with over the years.

The behavior he’d exhibited toward her was not pettiness, it was part of his carefully calculated armor. If he was irredeemably awful, she would want to be nowhere near him. And if she was nowhere near him, they could not be tempted to give in to base instincts.

Only… that plan had nearly backfired, just minutes before. Had Drol’gan not interrupted, Kor’ven may well have been tasting the sweet nectar between her thighs by this point.

“I agree,” he said simply, forcing that thought from his mind.

She blinked in a rather endearing way, large blue eyes looking up at him as if he had never made such a concession before. And he supposed he had not.

“Then we should start right away.” He watched as she absently tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear, his fingers aching to reach out and touch. “I assume you have a theory?”

“I do. As you said, the code is pulled almost verbatim from the master source. I have had a specialist triple check the lines that were edited, and they are working lines of code.”

Adi’sun bit her lip and nodded. Some part of him wondered what she was about to say. Something that would have stoked a flame within him, he suspected, for ire came from a place of passion.

“There appears to be no mechanical fault, so I can only conclude the failure is biological.”

“Which is my area of expertise,” she said quickly, obviously annoyed. After a moment, she amended, “I’m sorry. That’s not helpful now.”

“Yet it is true,” he admitted.

She looked at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted a second set of horns. Kor’ven was not so dense as to misunderstand it. He had been nothing but unkind to her since arriving. She could never understand why. He had a duty to his people, and being around the woman his blood called out for would only distract him from that duty.

Still, if they were to find a solution quickly, it would be best to give credit where credit was due. Helios was one of the most successful Waystations. Much of that was Adi’sun’s doing.

“You have theories of your own?” he asked.

She nodded, but did not answer immediately. Instead, she moved to the shelf where several reference books were arranged. Newly arranged by Kor’ven--something he hadn’t done to vex her, but that seemed to do so nonetheless. His keen sense of hearing picked up a few colorful human curses, and a smirk touched his lips.

She finally found whatever she was looking for and brought the reference over to the table, opening the book to show him something. He wanted to pay attention, but the scent of her hair, of her skin was too overwhelming. He breathed her in, and even that action made his loins tighten. Kor’ven was forced to grip the edge of the table to keep from nuzzling into the soft warmth of her neck and breathing more deeply.

“…considers the implant to be a foreign object. Of course we use tissue from the patient’s own body to circumvent the possibility of a rejection, but Vazik is only half human. Perhaps his body requires something different.”

It took Kor’ven a moment to catch up to what she was saying. He hated being distracted, and he made a great effort to focus his attention so he could understand. She was speaking of the implant process for humans. Karuvar had already adapted to recognize the composition of the implant as a part of their body. Humans had not. Yet.

And with any luck, they never would.

“You think the genes passed on from his father are clashing with those from his mother,” Kor’ven supplied. “That does not bode well.”

“No,” she admitted with a frown. “And I hope I’m wrong. But I think there are tests we can do to see if his body is rejecting the tissue.”

That was not a terrible idea. In fact, it was one of the more actionable ones Kor’ven had heard. And while his work lay more with the genetic coding of the implants than the biological and chemical composition, he could appreciate her adeptness.

They spent the rest of that day planning out a variety of experiments. The tissue Adi’sun had grown from Vazik’s own body was to be put through a variety of tests. Time flew as they readied everything, neither of them leaving the lab. Adi’sun’s assistant, Azh’lee, brought them food, but outside of that, they paid little mind to anything else.

Anything outside of that room, at least. Part of the reason it took much of the day to even prepare the experiments was because Kor’ven was distracted, and he could only assume the same was true of Adi’sun. He could not imagine her strength, because it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from approaching her, touching her, claiming her. And all through this, his implant protested. He felt ill, as if he’d contracted some manner of human flu. His muscles ached, sweat beaded on his brow, and his brain fogged significantly.

They should have both taken it as a sign, but evidently stubbornness was not a trait unique to Karuvar. He knew such stubbornness would cost them. Being distracted in the lab was a terrible thing, and while Adi’sun insisted she would have her assistant check the work afterward, there was still room for catastrophe.

It came late in the evening, when they were in the process of mixing chemical compounds for a simulation test. He was uncertain what went wrong, precisely, but he knew the exact moment it did. There was an acrid scent in the air that had not been there before. His long, sensitive ears picked up on the faintest reaction as liquid began to foam, and he knew there was little time to act.

Instinct surged within him as he looked at Adi’sun. He had never truly understood the Karuvar who processed the world only in terms of threats, but he certainly did now. The swiftly rising chemicals were a threat, and his mate their target.

He would not allow any harm to come to his mate, from any source. He would protect her with his own life.

“Get down!” he warned, but that was not enough.

Instinct drove him again, and he leapt at her, all but tackling her to the ground, his body covering hers. He could hear the instant the breath was knocked from her, felt the hard floor jar through her, and guilt nipped at him--until an explosion sounded above them.

Kor’ven covered his own head, using his massive frame to protect his small human mate, as well.

When the heat of the reaction faded, when the acrid smell no longer burned his nose, Kor’ven finally relented some, pushing himself up with his arms.

Adi’sun lay beneath him, her blue eyes wide. He had felt her anger when he handled her so aggressively, then her surprise at the explosion. Now her pale cheeks reddened with something else, and Kor’ven recognized all too well what it was.

His body was pressed to the length of hers, and though he’d lifted his torso away, his hips still covered hers, his legs pinning her in place. It would have been impossible not to react to her, and he could feel his cock growing firm. No doubt she could feel him, too.

Adi’sun’s chest rose and fell in rapid time with the effort of her breathing. Kor’ven had never been as transfixed by breasts as some of his colleagues, but hers were lusciously tempting, and he wanted very badly to touch the soft, pliant flesh. More than that, though, he wanted to taste her. He would start with her lips, but he ached to taste every inch of her, from her creamy skin to the arousal that grew slick between her thighs.

He let out a growl, and he was unsure if it was a growl of frustration, or merely a warning of the inevitable. Adi’sun’s eyes darkened to the color of the ocean, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Kor’ven moved to close the distance between them, but before he could claim her mouth, the door to the lab was thrown open.

“What the fuck happ--whoa.”

Azh’lee’s voice was like being hit with a stream of glacial water. Kor’ven’s ardor faded, even if his body still demanded he take his mate. Karuvar were not terribly shy about mating in public, after all, but Kor’ven had no plans to do so.

Not just in public, he reminded himself. You cannot have her anywhere.

He pushed himself to his feet, trying to regain his dignity. There was no need to help Adi’sun--she followed him in a scramble of limbs.

“So was there actually an explosion, or did you guys just set off some sort of chemical reaction on your way down to the floor?” Adi’sun’s assistant asked with a smirk.

“Azh’lee.” She spoke the youngling’s name through gritted teeth, her cheeks still aflame.

“An unfortunate reaction,” he explained, his voice still somewhat hoarse. “I sensed the explosion, and I am afraid in my haste I could think of no better solution than to hurry Doctor Mun’roh to the ground.”

“I bet,” she muttered, still amused by this entire situation.

Adi’sun asked the youngling to help them clean up, as chemicals had overflowed onto the workstation. Kor’ven suspected she was there to act as a buffer, as well, and he was grateful for it.

It was foolish to say he was unsure what would have happened had Azh’lee not walked in. No doubt his cock would be buried in his mate’s welcoming cunt right now. Her legs would wrap around him, her nails would scratch against his scale plating, and she would writhe beneath him as he pumped her full of his seed.

Their implants would calm. They would be able to work without as much distraction, and that was certainly a benefit. But the risks were too great. He had work to do, and it did not involve staying at Waystation Helios.