His eyes flickered away, darkening. “What’s going on is your knot is supposed to be blending in.”

Romy brushed aside his bogus answer. “Don’t be obtuse. You know what I mean.”

It came to her that, really, she understood everything she needed to about the orbitos, and the Mandate. All of her angst was from not knowing who he was.

She took a step closer. “Who are you?”

For the first time since their meeting, Romy picked up a flash of something in his eyes. A flicker of . . . uncertainty, perhaps? A crack in his broad-shouldered confidence.

He unclasped his hands from behind his back and approached her with coiled steps. It made Romy feel like she should run, but she forced her breath to stay even, straightening and levelling him with the same look. It was ruined by the fact that he was taller.

Atlas brushed her cheek with his thumb and her breath caught before resuming its staid pace. Why did he always do that? Before she could ask, he’d bent his mouth to her ear. Warm breath tickled her neck.

“The one person you should trust,” he breathed.

Atlas inhaled deeply and Romy felt her legs shake beneath her. Her body thrummed at his nearness.

Gripping his shoulder, she looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

A dramatic throat-clearing interrupted Atlas’s reply. “That, little skyling, is your body telling you that Atlas would be a prime candidate for reproduction.”

Romy shrieked, shaking legs forgotten as she whirled around, pressing her back against Atlas.

Houston stood, propped against the doorway in faux casualness.

“Reproduction?” she repeated dumbly. The word registered a split second later and Romy bit down on her lip, wincing in embarrassment. Atlas hadn’t moved from behind her. At least he couldn’t see her face right now.

“Yes. The act whereby a male inserts his—”

“How long have you been standing there?” Atlas cut in.

“—into the lady bits. Not long.” Houston waved a hand in the air, a large grin splitting his face.

The man behind her hummed quietly. Romy wasn’t sure she believed the doctor either.

Houston continued. “I could have told you the door was locked, my dear.”

Romy narrowed her eyes. That was right at the start of their conversation!

The lanky man scuffed the floor with a shuffling foot. “Now that we both have your attention, Atlas, this has got to stop. I feel like I’m treating the entire campsite every day.”

Romy jumped in. “Thrym is much better in this area than I am. He could actually help. I can switch places with him,” she offered.

Houston pushed his glasses up, swinging his stethoscope. “Not to mention, it doesn’t leave me much time to work on . . . other things.”