B Cubed #3 Borg by Jenna McCormick

were receding, as the need for human hands and
mouth became clear.
                He
checked her pulse, found none and started chest compressions, as well as  mouth
to mouth resuscitation.
                He
called her name in between breaths and wished he had the medical supplies from
the shuttle. There was a defibrillator as well as thermal packs to help warm
her in the emergency kit. But he didn’t dare take the time to move her there until
she’d stabilized.
                Another
breath, another count of compressions. She was fading, he could feel her going
where he could not follow. Madness clawed at him, the beast’s his own, as icy
tendrils of fear snaked through his bloodstream.
                Can’t
lose her. “Don’t leave me,” he begged.
                On the next breath she
coughed and regurgitated lungfuls of water. Dayen quickly turned her on her
side so she didn’t choke. The sound she made as she wheezed in air was terrible
and wonderful all at once because it meant she was still alive.
                He
didn’t breathe until he found her pulse, still too rapid but steady enough. She
still hadn’t fully awakened and wasn’t shivering. Still in danger, now from
hypothermia.  He lifted her into his arms and scented the air, searching for any
shelter that was closer than the trek back to the shuttle. His nose detected
the acrid tang of sulfur and he set of with his precious cargo.
                The
cave was pleasantly warm compared to the outside, the spring bubbling with
heat. He hurriedly stripped her down to her blue tinted skin, then shed his own
clothes before carrying her into the water. The pool was deep enough to reach
his shoulders and would have come up over her head, so he settled her on his
lap.  She was immersed up to her neck and her head rested against his shoulder
in a notch that seemed carved for exactly that purpose.
                He
had to touch her, to keep her safe and warm until she thawed completely.
                “Stay
with me, mein Schatzi, ” he said as he cupped her cheek. The German
phrase he’d read in one of Aunt Cassie’s journals fit her. She was his little
treasure and he would guard her ruthlessly. “Give me a chance to make it all
right. I vow that I will not let you down.”
                The
shaking started then, her teeth chattering. He pressed her deeper into him, as
though he could meld them into one being. He shook too, adrenaline still
tearing through his system as he relived the events of the afternoon. She’d
been in so much danger, he could have died and then she would have had no one
to protect her.
                And
then she’d run. Not from danger but from him. What had she seen that made her
fear him so? Shamed burned through him as he recalled the thoughts that
prompted her to run. He’s hideous.
                Before
he’d always fought the beast, been fearful of what the creature would do if he
handed over control. He hadn’t known that he’d transform into a monster, but
even if he had, he would have gladly done so if it meant he had the ability to
save her life.
                “You
have what you need to save us,” Aunt Cass had told him when he’d lamented
his multiple burdens. A beast, the memories of a dead man, and telepathy that
made him shun touch. What had he done to deserve such a mixed bag of misery?
                But
now he understood. The beast had the power and the determination to save its
mate when she faced danger. His telepathy gave him insight into Sage’s
particular needs. And Isaac’s ghost?
                It
taught him how to love her and her alone.
                For
her all the parts of him had come together instead of warring within his own
flesh.  With her he could be whole, not just a badly patched amalgamation of
abilities and voices. Now it was Dayen who