Dr. Rayn announced, settling on the edge of his antique desk. “We have to do some final tests on the two of you and some minor preparations, and then we can let you get on with mating.” Evan wrapped an arm around Zondra and drew her to his side, much more relaxed after four days without the collection bags, interrupted for Rayn’s seemingly endless testing. They’d talked, fed each other, bathed each other, slept in each others’ arms, and had indulged in a feast of sex that had both their pheromone levels higher than the doctors had ever seen. Tim had suggested that bagging Evan now would give them much more potent stock to work with. Evan’s answer wasn’t fit for many military men to hear, let alone women and children. “I’ve heard it’s a three-day stretch,” he responded to the head scientist. “Yes, it is.” Rayn waved them closer and turned a screen to face them. “There’s a typical way this is accomplished.” Evan narrowed his gaze on Zondra, and she wriggled at the attention.
