It took Garrus a while to recover. His senses had gone into complete overdrive. He didn't know how long it had been. Minutes, hours… The world was a blur for a while. Then it all started coming back to him slowly. Sounds of her heart and her breathing. Smell of her delicious skin, her hair. Feeling of her hand gently stroking his plates.
"What have you done to me?" he rumbled.
She didn't answer, but he felt her smile against his chest.
That female, he thought, she will be the death of me.
Katie was lying on top of him, right where he had pulled her before he almost blacked out. Her warmth seeped through his plates. Relaxed and trusting, she pressed against him, sinking into the contours of his frame. His kind could never fit like this. She was soft where he was hard, yielding where he was rigid, her pliant form molding against his exoskeleton in a way that felt impossibly intimate.
Garrus wasn't used to this. Not to this kind of intimacy. It had always felt fleeting and transactional. Turian females never lingered. They fought, they fucked, they moved on—hands-off, distant, and practical. But his human didn't just stay—she nested. Arms wrapped around him, legs tangled with his, breath ghosting over him in soothing, rhythmic sighs. Her closeness settled into him with a bone-deep sensation of belonging, slow and steady, quieting something restless inside him he hadn't even realized was there.
They lay in silence for a long time, until she finally spoke.
"I like this sound." Her fingers were drawing invisible patterns on his vibrating plates. "It's like your chest is singing to me."
Garrus hummed softly. In a way, it was.
His chest spoke in an ancient language of his people, one she could barely hear and would never fully understand. His subharmonics carried his emotions effortlessly, humming in a low, steady purr that wove together strands of calm and quiet contentment.
Beneath that soothing vibration ran the warm, rhythmic pulse of his affection—constant, unwavering, and meant for her alone.
Then there was a deeper, richer undertone that pulsed with raw desire and unshaken devotion, adding an intense, throbbing layer to the steady buzz of protectiveness he always felt when she was near.
But above all else, another sound stood out—one his chest had never formed before. It was complex, intricate, and unlike any other—a rhythm woven from something unbreakable. The connection that tied them together, stronger than words could ever convey.
Their bond.
For the first time in what felt like years, Garrus allowed himself to truly listen to his sub-harmonics, to understand what his body had been trying to tell him all along.
Of course he was bonded with her!
He was completely and utterly hers. Forever. She had become his anchor, his purpose, his reason for drawing breath. How could he not know this before? The signs had been there from the beginning: the way his body reacted to hers, how her scent had bothered him from the start…
Stupid, stupid turian.
There was no point resisting, he knew that now. And he didn't want to.
And yet. Garrus felt something was missing in this moment of connection. Katie remained quiet against him, her human voice—beautiful as it was to him—fundamentally incapable of joining the ancient turian rhythms that spoke of belonging and forever. His vibrations reached out into emptiness, finding no answering resonance.
He'd heard about this from those fortunate to find their bondmate. The stories they shared spoke of how their frequencies would intertwine, creating something unique between them. The bond was always mutual and would only manifest when both partners were ready so their subvocals could weave together in mutual claim.
But Katie's body wasn't built for such responses, and her silence made his mandibles twitch with sudden uncertainty. With her, he couldn't rely on instinct alone—he had to resort to the most unnatural thing of all. Words.
Without thinking, his hand found its way to her hair, fingers curling, gently pulling until she lifted her face to meet his gaze.
"Mine," he told her.
Katie smiled. "Is it a turian thing?"
"Human males are different?"
He knew his kind was more dominant then most, and way more territorial. But did humans never claim what's theirs?
"Not this explicit," she answered simply.
"You're mine, Katie," he repeated with absolute certainty.
"I'm yours, Garrus."
He saw she meant it—she was. A low, primal growl rumbled in his chest as he rolled them over, settling her beneath him, careful with his weight, letting her feel her bondmate.
"Good," he purred, satisfaction thick in his voice as he lowered his mouth to the curve of her delicate neck. "Now that we've established that..."
Her omni-tool beeped.
Garrus snarled at the damn thing, even more so when she looked at it. Then her expression changed.
"Oh, shit!" she gasped.
"What's wrong?" he asked, instantly alert.
"I'm supposed to meet my father at the Volus Embassy!" Her palm pressed to her forehead in some human gesture.
"When?"
"In twenty minutes… Shit, shit…"
Her frantic scrambling to get up would have been amusing—adorable, even—if he had any intention of letting her go. He caught her effortlessly, holding her firm.
"I need to go," she told him, protesting.
"No. You need to stay."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the words never came—his hands were already trailing over the bare skin, making her breath hitch at his touch. Every second made her protests weaker, melting her form in his insistent hold.
"Garrus, my father will be pissed…" She tried to resist, but was already his—he could feel her scent changing.
Garrus rumbled, brushing his tongue against her throat, and she moaned, going limp in his arms.
"You're already late," his dual-toned voice made her shiver. "Stay with me..."
"I…" Katie breathed out. "I need to… send him a message… he'll worry…"
"You do whatever you need to do," he murmured into her hair.
Her fingers fumbled for her omni-tool. His tongue was very distracting. She managed to type in a short message on the haptic interface and pressed send.
He had her all to himself once again. Except now, he wasn't in a hurry to claim his female. He decided he would take his time and properly explore what he had conquered.
"Garrus…" she moaned his name in that maddening way.
He was relentless. His tongue traced over her neck, her chin, her collarbone, trailing downward. When he reached the soft swell of her breasts, he hesitated. He had avoided them before, uncertain. Turian females didn't have lacteal glands, and asari never seemed particularly interested in being touched there. This was unfamiliar territory; Garrus had no real experience with anything like it.
By sight alone, he could tell they were soft, but nothing had prepared him for how they actually felt. Bundles of pure flesh—unlike the rest of her body, they had no bone, no muscle underneath. He squeezed one gently, gauging her reaction. She gasped, squirming against him, and something primal inside him thrilled at the response.
His tongue followed where his hands had been, dragging over the sensitive skin. Its rough texture brushed over a tiny bud at the peak, and the way it responded—tightening instantly beneath his touch—fascinated him. His mandibles flared in satisfaction as she uttered the sweetest moan.
"Mmm… I like that sound…" he murmured in a husky purr. "Is there more where it came from?"
Katie closed her eyes shut, lips parting as if already surrendering to his request. He coaxed another moan from her, savoring every reaction. His tongue swirled over that sensitive peak, circling and teasing. Curious, he brought his mouth plates closer, taking it between them, pressing—
"Ouch!" she uttered, jerking away.
Garrus immediately pulled back. "Huh…" he mused, tilting his head as he processed her reaction. "Guess I won't be doing that…"
Katie giggled. Her fingers mapped the lines on his facial markings in a loving gesture. He pressed his forehead to hers and purred.
His hand, in the meantime, was moving further down her body, following a slow, deliberate path along the curve of her hip. Every touch sent ripples of anticipation through her, and when his fingers finally reached the apex of her thighs, Katie tensed instinctively.
He let his fingers caress her folds. Her breath caught, and he felt the tiny tremor run through her. Encouraged, he traced her softness, exploring, learning, drinking in the quiet gasps his movements elicited.
The scent of her need spiked in the air, thick and unmistakable, curling around his senses, making him inhale deeply.
"Katie…" He murmured her name, voice thick with hunger. Spirits, she was getting wetter. For him. Because of him.
As his finger moved carefully over her slick folds once more, her hips jerked slightly in response, pressing into his touch. It wasn't just a reflex—she wanted the contact. He could feel it in the way her muscles twitched beneath his hand, in the tiny, desperate noises slipping past her lips.
He swallowed hard as the realization struck him. "Can I pleasure you like this?"
Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with desire, and she nodded.
Heat crept up the back of his neck, and his mandibles twitched. "Will you show me how?"
He saw her cheeks flush a deep red. Her shyness made his heart ache with something warm and protective. But then, her hand found his and moved it lower, pressing his touch where she wanted it.
Could this really be happening? Could he bring her pleasure like this—without mounting, without thrusting, just by touching her?
"Careful with your talons," she whispered.
Garrus nodded, anticipation tightening his chest. Of course he would be.
Katie's hand brought his to a small cluster of nerves hidden between her folds. It was so tiny, barely noticeable—he would have never found it if he didn't know where to look. But the moment his fingertip made contact, her entire body moved in response.
She circled the spot with his finger pad, showing him the rhythm, the pattern, the pressure she needed. He followed her lead at first, then, slowly, his hand began to move on its own, guided by her silent cues, attuned to every gasp, every shift, every arch of her back.
Garrus couldn't believe it. Was this even possible? No turian could be like this. His kind relied on friction of ridges, pressure, instinctive movement. But Katie… she was something else entirely. She was coming undone beneath his touch alone. His fingers hadn't even entered her—just slow, deliberate circles, barely any pressure.
She shifted and meowed.
A possessive growl rumbled deep in his chest. "Don't move."
"I… I can't…"
She couldn't—he saw it, felt it. Her body was no longer her own.
How sensitive could she be?
He intended to find out.
Her moans grew louder, her hips jerked helplessly, chasing his touch, rolling in unconscious rhythm. It wasn't like before—when they had mated, when he had driven into her and made her come with the full force of him. No, this was somehow more—
The word escaped him. It didn't exist in his native tongue. But he had heard it before, from other species.
Sensual.
That's what she was. Pure, unfiltered sensuality, a being of raw pleasure trembling beneath his hands, writhing for him, moaning from his touch alone. He was utterly mesmerized by his female, by how completely she surrendered to sensation.
"I need to see you…" he breathed, shifting lower, his want for her deepening with every passing second.
His knees hit the floor. Garrus was half-kneeing, half-laying on the bed now facing her open thighs.
He saw her.
Her folds had a pinkish tint to them, soft puffed flesh with that tiny bud between them. He spread her carefully with his fingers, minding the claws. She looked like a paya flower, with gentle rosy petals.
Spirits, she was so wet.
He eased a finger inside, very carefully. It made her back arch off the bed. He knew he shouldn't continue like this—he could seriously injure her if she suddenly moved. So he pulled his finger out with a hint of disappointment, examining it covered in the glistening wetness of her core.
She smelled amazing and Garrus realized how much he longed for her taste. Without even thinking, he opened his mouth and touched her with his tongue.
"Garrus!" She gasped, jerking away from him in an instant and sitting up sharply. "What are you…?"
Her thighs snapped shut, cutting him off. He tensed immediately looking up at her face but his bondmate's expression was unreadable.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No," she answered after a pause, clearly puzzled by his question.
Garrus exhaled slightly, relaxing.
"Was that… unpleasant?" He studied her carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort.
"No…" she muttered hesitantly, suddenly blushing.
Embarrassment? That was unexpected. Did humans not use their tongues like that?
His intense stare made Katie avert her eyes, her cheeks burning crimson.
She had let him mount her, surrendered to him completely less than an hour ago. Why was she suddenly so—
Garrus was struck with the realization.
Was this somehow more intimate than mating itself? If it was, he wanted it even more. She must submit fully and completely. There would be no in-betweens for them.
"Lie down, Katie."
"But I—"
"Lie down." His voice was soft, but the double-tones underneath had a dominant and assertive layer—it made her immediately comply.
Mine, he though. All of you.
Garrus lowered himself onto the bed in front of her. She lay back, her eyes locked onto his, wide and anxious. His hand slid between her thighs, parting them with deliberate care. He traced one finger lightly along her folds, relishing the way she trembled beneath his touch. Then, without warning, his tongue snaked inside of her, seeking, tasting.
She gasped, her head snapping back as a moan tore from her throat.
That's better.
Garrus pressed in deeper, immersing himself in her scorching heat, in the intoxicating flavor of her arousal.
It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. If he had to describe it, he'd say it felt as if her pleasure could take liquid form. So similar to her smell, yet way more poignant. It attacked his taste buds, making him growl against her with more need.
Why did she have to be like that?
The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, forcing his pelvic plates wide. His cock emerged, throbbing with ache, but he forced himself to ignore it, to focus solely on her. She was his to unravel and he had no intention of stopping now.
His tongue worked her with deliberate swirls and thrusts, exploring, searching for sensitive areas that made her shudder, that pulled those sweet, breathy sounds from her lips. Her hips bucked against him, caught between escape and surrender, but he held her firm.
Her fingers clawed at the sheets, seeking for an anchor, trying to get hold of anything they could find. They found the back of his head.
Spirits alive—
Garrus could barely breathe now.
She had no idea what she was doing to him. The way she tugged at his fringe sent pleasure slicing through his nerves, sharp and inescapable. Every pull, every accidental scrape of her nails was another jolt straight to his groin, until he was snarling right into her core from an inescapable sensation. The vibrations built in his chest and rose through his throat in resonant pulses. The moment they reached his tongue, they did something to her.
"Oh God… Garrus!" she cried out, looking down at him with shock. "What…?"
Her thighs clamped around his head, her hands tightening at his fringe—before his vibrations overwhelmed her completely, and she dropped back onto the mattress.
Garrus barely registered the frantic moans—he growled into her, going out of his mind. The overstimulation at the nape of his neck, the sounds, the smells, the maddening taste… he was losing control, fast. His cock was rubbing against the edge of the bed in a desperate attempt for friction, but it wasn't enough. Not even close. The harder she pulled at his fringe, the stronger the vibrations—and the harder she pulled still…
It was getting impossible to concentrate. His vision was a blur. His tongue lost all focus, lapping and lashing at her walls aimlessly. But it didn't matter at this point— she was absolutely delirious, lost in a haze where every sensation bled into the next, indistinguishable from one another. He prayed to the Spirits she was close, prayed for the sweet mercy of this torture to finally end. And his prayers were answered.
The scent of her release was sudden and unmistakable.
She climaxed, crying out his name and calling to her God. Her body shattered; her walls fluttered against his tongue, clenching in tight, rhythmic waves that sent another vicious surge of heat through him. He pulled out of her just as his control snapped, his hand dropping to his cock as he started stroking himself with rough, frantic jerks while simultaneously climbing up the bed, crouching over his female.
Garrus couldn't remember ever being this roused.
"Katie," he rasped, voice breaking with sheer desperation. "I can't—I need to—"
She was still gasping, body quivering from the aftershocks, her dazed eyes struggling to focus on him. He couldn't wait. He grabbed her hips, dragged her down the bed, and drove into her in one feral lunge.
She cried out, still pulsing, gripping him like a vice. A few ragged thrusts were all it took. Garrus slammed deep, his entire body locking up when pleasure crashed over him in violent, relentless waves. Everything blurred, then came into sharp focus, and the universe collapsed around him. He came hard and growling inside the madness that was her.
She curled into his lap, warm and pliant beneath his hands. Garrus worked the medi-gel over her skin in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing the places where his plating and his talons had scraped too hard, branding her softness with unintentional proof of his nature.
Katie sighed and leaned into him, savoring his careful touch. The gel cooled the reddened areas, easing the sting, erasing the signs of his carelessness. The angry lines would fade. His guilt would not.
Her trust only made it worse. She rested in his arms, bare and unguarded, breathing slow and steady, a peaceful smile on her lips. As if there were no marks on her at all. As if he couldn't possibly hurt her. And that trust weighed on him heavier than any wound ever could.
Spirits, why was she so fragile? He had to be more careful with her, more gentle. But he didn't know how. His body was built for battle, guided by instinct—something he could never fully suppress or control no matter how hard he tried.
When he was done, he set the dispenser aside, but didn't let go. His hands kept moving, skimming over her back. A low purr rumbled in his chest. Garrus loved feeling her like this—calm, relaxed, at peace. He knew he had to let her go soon, but he couldn't bring himself to. Stealing one moment after another, stretching time as far as it would go.
"I think I need a shower," she murmured.
"You certainly do," he agreed.
"Hey!"
"Unless you want every turian within a mile to know exactly what I've done to you," he added with a sly smirk. Not that he would mind. In fact, he wanted them to know. He wanted every male around her to understand that she was claimed. That she was his.
Katie chuckled. But something in his eyes made her brows furrow. "You're joking, right?"
Garrus didn't answer. Instead, he brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his smirk never fading.
"No way!" she uttered in disbelief. "A mile? Really?"
"Well, maybe not a mile." his mandibles twitched with amusement. "Remember the day we met in the Citadel Tower?"
Katie nodded.
"I could smell you the minute you walked out of that elevator."
"Oh…"
She remembered that moment. Garrus watched as her body tensed, the flicker of joy in her eyes giving way to something heavier. The moment had been light, easy—but reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how hard they tried to hold it back. Her expression shifted. The sadness. The fear. The weight of everything they couldn't ignore. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same.
"Garrus…" she whispered. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "Not yet. But I will figure it out. I promise. Just… give me more time…"
"What if the peace talks fail…?" she murmured. "With all the leaks and protests…"
He threaded his talons gently through her hair. Her fears mirrored his own, but they were only the surface of the storm raging inside him. For days, he had been grappling with the weight of the conspiracy they had uncovered—the Syndicate, the Batarian Hegemony, the deliberate sabotage of the peace talks.
The truth burned in his throat, begging to be spoken. But as he looked down at her distressed face, so open, so vulnerable, he made a different choice.
For now, he decided he would spare her this additional fear, protecting her not just from external threats, but from the crushing knowledge that threatened to overwhelm even him.
He would do everything in his power to see the truce through, to give his bondmate the peace she deserved. But if he failed…
"We can always stay on the Citadel… if worse came to worst," he said at last. "The station will remain neutral ground regardless of the peace talks outcome."
Her violet eyes searched his. "Can you stay? Leave your post?"
Garrus smiled softly. She had no idea what he would do for her.
"If I have to," he said simply. Then, tightening his hold around her, he added, "But I won't let it come to that."
Garrus pressed their foreheads together. "I just need you to trust me, Katie. Can you do that?"
She nodded and fell back into his arms. "I trust you."
Her cheek rubbed against his chest, and he purred for her.
"I love you, Garrus."
"I'm yours, Katie. All of me."
They knew they were saying the same thing, each in their own way.
Garrus held her like this a little longer, then scooped up his bondmate and carried her into the bathroom.
He went inside a shower cabin in the middle of the room. Still holding her, he turned on the water. A sudden burst of cold spray hit her bare back, and Katie squealed, pressing herself against him.
Garrus took a quick step back.
"It's cold!" she huffed at him, moving her brow fur in a comical frown.
"I see," he smiled, adjusted the temperature before glancing down at her. "Better?"
She tested the water with her hand and frowned again. "Too hot."
Garrus smiled again and turned the facet further. "How about now?"
Katie stretched her arm under the stream, then gave a small nod of approval.
"Perfect," she said.
"Perfect," he echoed, committing the temperature to memory.
Carefully, he set her down, then scanned the shelves for toiletries. Finding what he was looking for, he grabbed a small sachet bag and handed it to her.
"Here."
She inspected it carefully, finding what looked like two big heavy round pebbles inside.
"It's turian soap," he answered her silent question. "Won't foam as much as you're used to. But good for scraping clean."
She examined the strange round objects in her hands. "Doesn't smell like anything?"
"Turians don't like foreign odors."
"Thank you," she said sweetly, stepping under the water.
Garrus couldn't take his eyes off her. The way the water cascaded down her body, the way her skin glistened under the dim light—it held him captive. He wasn't even trying to hide it. Katie, focused on the warmth of the shower, took a moment to notice. But when she finally did, she blinked, her brow fur arching as realization settled in.
"Can I watch you take a shower?" he asked.
She froze, eyes wide with surprise. "What? No!"
He could see the embarrassment sweeping over her, the way her body shifted awkwardly. It made him smile. She was so adorably human in this moment.
"I won't touch you, I promise." His tone was sincere, but his mandibles twitched with a hint of mischief.
"No, that's creepy…" she replied, her voice almost childlike in its rejection. "Go away!"
He growled softly, then left with a chuckle.
But as he stepped away, the urge to stay lingered. Curiosity gnawed at him—he'd never seen a human shower before. Did she do it the same way he did? He somehow doubted it. But there was more to it than that. He wanted to watch her, to see the way she touched her own body, the way the water streamed down her smooth frame, tracing every curve. He imagined his hands following the same path.
Spirits, he still longed for her. Pressure built behind his pelvic seam, a slow, insistent ache, but he willed it away. Exhaling, Garrus forced himself to let go of the thought. Instead, he sat on the bed, listening to the steady rhythm of water against tile.
When she was done, he heard her turn it off. Then came some rustling sounds. Katie finally walked out, and Garrus couldn't hold back a chuckle. She was wrapped into a towel. And had another one on her head, rolled up around her in the quaintest way.
"What?" she asked.
"You look ridiculous," he laughed.
Katie walked past him, waving her hand at him dismissively, and scoffed, "Says the guy who has mandibles on his face."
Garrus laughed again, the warm loving sensation spreading in his chest as he watched his bondmate fuss around.
Katie found her dress on the floor, picked it up, and wiggled her body in it. She looked around some more, and spotted her underwear.
Oh, she wouldn't like that, Garrus thought to himself, knowing what she'd find.
"Hey!" she looked very displeased when she realized her panties were torn by his talons.
He could only shrug, he wasn't really sorry.
"You can keep those!" She threw the fabric at him.
"Oh, I fully intend too," he mused, catching it in his hand.
Katie rolled her eyes at him.
Garrus watched her unwrap her hair, squeeze it carefully, then throw the towel on one of the chairs. He came closer, lifting her chin with his fingers and looking straight at her.
"When can I see you again?"
She paused. "Well, there's that Heritage Agreement Signing tomorrow."
Garrus nodded. It was in the Primarch's schedule as well.
"And then, my father has been invited to a gala at the Ezra Towers," she continued thoughtfully. "Will you be there?"
"I will be now," he purred. "But that's not what I meant."
She knew that, and didn't have an answer for him.
Garrus watched as a shadow passed over her features. She was thinking—calculating, weighing the risks. He could already guess the conclusions she was coming to. Her father's schedule was tight, and she was expected to be at his side for most of it. The closed sessions and late-hour discussions with the Primarch would keep both leaders occupied so Garrus could steal her away for an hour or two.
"How about this," he interrupted her train of thought, seeing the strain on her face. "Why don't you meet me for drinks?"
"In public?" her eyes widened in surprise.
"We can socialize, can't we? This whole negotiation thing is supposed to bring our species together. And we won't be alone. There will be other people present."
She raised her eye brow at him.
"I want you to meet my human friend."
"Your human friend?" she asked skeptically.
"James," Garrus smiled knowing how it sounded. "I'm sure he would love to meet you. And that way, it won't be suspicious."
She hesitated for one moment, then nodded.
"I'll send the details to your omni-tool," he promised.
She smiled at him, and that smile was all it took for Garrus to wrap his arms around her once more.
Katie had washed all of his scent off her body, and he growled at the thought of that. But there was more of hers now, sweet and earthy—his bondmate's scent. He nuzzled her instinctively.
"Don't rub your turian smell into me," she said coyly, making him purr louder now, with more need. "I don't want to take another shower."
"Then you better go," he snarled with frustration. "Or you just might have to."