Wren takes care of those around her, but will a bunch of Guardians be more than she can keep in fighting shape?

Wren has been a caretaker for all her adult life. The offer to take up a new life in the stars comes as part of her career comes to a sad end.

They ask her to change her DNA, she does. They ask her to engage in combat training, she does. They ask her to channel the new talent that roars through her bloodstream, she focuses. If they had asked her if she was willing to mate with a stranger, she would have considered it.

Drovin has been waiting for the day when his mate would arrive on his world. He knows what she looks like and who she is, but her personality is a mystery. Binding them together before she arrived was his idea, but it might have been an incorrect impulse when she can find all of his weaknesses in an instant.

Excerpt:

A month in the tank passed quickly. With oxygenated fluid in her lungs, Wren bobbed and used her implant to send the monitor near her tank flicking from one file to the next.

Wren was now used to the greyish-pearl cast that her skin had taken on. Her hair had unfortunately fallen out during the procedure and the soft fuzz that was growing in was a slightly darker grey than her skin. The mirror that they held up to her on a daily basis was showing the differences in her appearance, but when she was able to bring the mirror up in front of her without using her hands, they appeared both excited and nervous.

From her position in the tank, Wren moved small objects around the medical bay and returned them to their original places. Her enhancement was kicking in.

On her monitor, she looked into the W’lyn government, procedures and etiquette. She tried to find the donor for the alterations that were coursing through her blood, but she was told that they were simply due to the blood coming from a member of the W’lyn Guardians and it was left at that.

The amount of access to information that they had given her was amazing. She was even more surprised at her ability to absorb it. Never in her life had she been much of a reader, but now, she could not get enough information on the Terran working as an analyst on W’lyn. The fixation bordered on obsession, and an instinct, she was surprised to discover, pushed her search for information to midwifery and cross-species breeding.

Every now and then, a doctor or tech would analyze her data preferences, and when they spotted her looking into medical information, they would offer her complementary monographs that she would not have found otherwise. The tank was a very nurturing environment for her.

While floating, she forgot the harsh moments after Emily had passed away, and she began to turn her mind to a future where alien races passed her in hallways and checked on her tank temperature. The day that her decanting came, she was on the edge of panic at the thought of leaving her safe little haven.

She wasn’t given a choice and was hoisted from the tank and left to throw up the liquid in her lungs, coughing violently as the air rushed in, harsh and dry.

“Easy, Wren. Breathe slowly and we will put you on a med bed for your new scans.”

She nodded and worked at inhaling and exhaling before another coughing fit grabbed her and squeezed her lungs, ejecting more fluid.

Finally, she was shaking but her breathing was even. They carried her to the bed and ran the scans over her newly silvered skin.

“You have fully amalgamated the W’lyn DNA. Rest for a few hours and your training will begin.” The doctor smiled.

Wren read concern, amazement and pride in the emotions of the man next to her. She blinked in surprise. Normally, she could only get those senses from someone she was caring for; receiving from the medical staff around her was going to take some getting used to.

“The tank was psychically insulated?” Her voice was hoarse but they understood her.

“Yes, though we have your little exercises on our scans. You put everything back where you found it, so thank you.” The doctor grinned.

A tech wrapped her in a soft blanket and smiled slightly. “We don’t want you to get cold.”

The man found her attractive, which surprised Wren. She hadn’t thought much about the sexual dynamic of being a single woman in the stars. She hoped it wasn’t as bad as travelling abroad on Earth.

“Wren Silverberg, I am your instructor.” The woman’s voice was low and her face was hidden in the depths of her hood.

“Pleased to meet you.” Wren stuck her hand out, and the woman moved minutely toward her before pausing.

“Most psychic races do not shake hands. You will learn a polite bow and that will be sufficient.”

“Is that correct for all situations?”

“It is correct for the world you are being assigned to. That will be enough.” The woman folded her hood back and smiled. “Being out in space takes some getting used to, but you can manage it.”

“You are human!”

“Wendalyn Amhurst, at your service. Citadel Master Instructor for telekinesis and I can pinch hit for empathy.”

Wren was stumped. “I didn’t think you were allowed back in Terran space.”

“I am not. This is a one-off. The seers that have been focusing on Terra have noted that you will be needed on W’lyn in a matter of weeks. My responsibility is to make sure that you are physically and psychically fit. So, let’s begin with checking your current weight limits. There are nine weights on the floor. Begin with the smallest, lift and replace it and proceed down the line.”

“Seers?”

“I will explain it later. Get lifting.” Wendalyn crossed her arms and jerked her chin.