by Poppy Rhys
Absently, she rubbed the small bump of her belly and wondered if he’d be there to greet his first nephew. Only two months to go before the rascal’s arrival.
As much as her brother-in-law had initially creeped her out, he’d grown on her. Her daughters loved their uncle who hadn’t given up his quest to get them speaking properly—without human slang—even when it seemed hopeless.
Lucia was their mother after all, and a vocabulary without booyah just wouldn’t do.
Soren’s warm hands gripped her shoulders, and she leaned back against his large, solid frame as she wondered what could’ve happened, if Val’Koy was alive or dead, and if they’d ever see him again.
TWENTY-THREE
VAL’KOY
A blade to the gut would be more desirable than his current situation.
His eyes traveled from the dirty soles of Dania’s feet draped over his lap to her sleep-slackened face buried at the crux of Jruviin’s thighs. Their first day of travel had been smooth, once Dania calmed down, and after her small meal of dried meat and water, she’d been unable to fight off sleep even if she refused to use the single cot.
It was clear she didn’t feel safe when not in contact with them.
“It is good I chose the last cart,” Jruviin murmured, staring down at Dania as they’d both been since she’d fallen asleep. “Her scent would be too tempting otherwise.”
A good point. Her lush fragrance got picked up by the slight breeze generated by the mounts speed and carried behind them, disappearing into the pitch tunnel. Had they been in a cart closer to the head, those with sensitive olfactory organs would certainly catch her appetizing pheromones.
Protecting Dania while on a moving mount wasn’t something either of them wanted to try. On solid ground, it was a gamble. On a moving transport in the route tunnels? Several accidents could occur.
“When she perspires,” Val’Koy gulped, “it will be worse. Much worse.”
Jruviin spared him an alarmed glance. “You know this?”
He nodded. “My brothers have a human mate.” Val’Koy thought about all the various scents humans couldn’t mask, Lucia especially, and how it perplexed the entire palace upon her arrival. “Therrans cannot control it.”
Jruviin croaked, “At all?”
Val’Koy’s lips tugged upward. “At all,” he confirmed.
They fell into silence once more, but soon, Dania shifted, snuggling her cheek into Jruviin’s lap.
“I—” Jruviin wheezed, arms half raised, as if something diabolical was in his lap, before he crossed them over his chest and bit down on a fist.
Val’Koy’s frame shook with quiet, shameless laughter.
“Not funny,” Jruviin groused.
He rolled a shoulder. “Maybe for you.” Even when the Draekiin’s expression turned to one of dismay, which might’ve worried him any other time, Val’Koy couldn’t suppress another chuckle.
“I am unsheathing!” Jruviin squawked, and Val’Koy laughed harder. He was having a difficult time breathing. He’d never seen Jruviin panic before.
“We must move her!” his teammate declared. “Stop laughing and help me!”
Val’Koy’s shoulders were still trembling as he helped Jruviin sit Dania up. She moaned in her sleep as they worked her onto Val’Koy’s lap. He cradled her back with his arms, her soft body melting against his chest.
Jruviin stood and moved to the other side of the cart, steadying himself with a hand to the roof while he attempted to breathe away his erection.
“Therrans,” Val’Koy grinned and shrugged. Jruviin shot him a deadly glare and went back to concentrating on breathing.
He could commiserate because he remembered all too vividly the months he’d spent jerking off with Dania’s underthing pressed to his nose and the crystalline memories of her plush body against his replaying in his mind’s eye.
There had been no time to think of sex since then. But now...
His eyes strayed to the female in his lap, one of his left hands coming up to brush locks of her messy curls away from her face.
“Mmm,” she hummed in her sleep and wrapped her arms around his middle.
If she kept that up, he’d have the same problem as Jruviin.
His teammate rejoined them, but he didn’t touch Dania again. He crossed his arms and dozed. At some point, he jerked awake and said, “I cannot sleep this way. You two take the cot. I will take the bench.”
Val’Koy agreed. Carefully, he moved Dania to the small cot and tucked her close to his body.
****
DANIA
She lay there, half asleep. It was freezing underground, but the heat coming off Val’Koy seared her skin and kept her toasty warm. She tucked her feet against his calves, causing him to groan.
Sorry, Dania thought with a lopsided grin. Her toes were notoriously icy.
She hoped Jru didn’t feel cold up there on the bench by himself. His feathers probably kept him comfortable though, right? She tucked her chilled nose against Val’s chest and tried to warm it.
Thoughts slipped in and out of her conscious mind. Shadowy thoughts.
She was mildly surprised neither man had tried to initiate anything. Part of her worried they might’ve expected something physical in exchange for winning her, clothing her, sharing their food, and protecting her from the myriad of grimy, sketchy individuals that prowled the planet.
For many nights on the Trepnil ship, her chin had wobbled while a lump had formed in her throat as she contemplated her future. The prostitutes had spoken of awful fates that made sexual favors in exchange for protection seem trite by comparison.
Val’Koy stirred beside her. She couldn’t see him clearly in the faint glow of the sparse tunnel lights that faded in and out. He lay on his side, facing her now, left arms curled over her middle.
Maybe it was just a matter of when. What were they waiting for? Overpowering her wouldn’t be an issue. In their short stint together there’d been ample opportunity for assault, yet it hadn’t come.
No. Jruviin said she had nothing to fear from him, and as much as Val’Koy’s words—calling their encounter an experiment—hurt her feelings, she reasoned it was born of his grief from discovering he didn’t have a son.
People said mean things when they suffered.
Dania couldn’t hold it against him. Hadn’t she used him as a rebound? They’d met under less than ideal circumstances, but she didn’t regret it.
Curiosity possessed her. Hesitantly, she touched the tips of her fingers to the scales along his muscled shoulder. They were smooth, glossy, hot to the touch.
Those scales reflected on and off through the evening—she supposed it was evening anyway—anytime light touched them she’d had a quiet urge to caress them. Dania hadn’t taken the time to leisurely explore every part of his body during their brief rendezvous on Dor Nye.
A low rumble vibrated against her skin, startling her. She withdrew her hand and curled her fingers to her chest. Her eyes rounded as the low rumble continued.
"Why did you stop?"
Dania's pulse stuttered at the throaty timbre of Val’s voice. She thought he’d been asleep.
Silence ate away at the darkness.
His hand grasped hers, gently unfolding it from her chest. Surprise made her breath lodge in her throat when he placed her hand on his cheek and rumbled again.
Purring. He was purring.
After three years of working in the capital, she'd never met anyone that purred. It... comforted her, and she found her thumb brushing his dry, textured skin, gliding along the knife-like cheekbones that bordered on being too harsh. Heat sank into her palm, and her lips parted. His hand slid from hers, and he stilled again, steadily purring, leaving her to explore.
So, she did.
Dania touched the curve of his ear, traced the strong line of his jaw, trailed his neck, and returned to the scales that faded into his upper bicep.
Soon, his breathing deepened, and she knew this time his slu
mber was true.
He’d fallen asleep to her touch.
The next day, Dania sat on the bench between the guys and chewed on a crunchy, tapered vegetable they had provided her. She watched the traffic pass.
The sight of another centipede train going by, loaded down with caravans of people, was a combination of strange and unnerving. The mounts’ heads and enormous mandibles were grisly. Despite riding one, she found it hard to believe they were peaceful insects.
Gray transports with glowing orange underbellies zoomed past. They weren’t unlike those on Dor Nye, just different colors.
“Why are we on a centipede when there are transports?” she blurted and then, worried it sounded whiney, continued, “Not that I’m complaining. Just... curious.”
There was another bump in the train as their centipede moved through the earth.
But maybe she was complaining. A little.
“Thuxillean,” Jru said.
“What?”
“This mount is a thuxillean.”
Dania scowled and bit off another chunk of the crunchy purple vegetable. “That didn’t answer my question.”
Val’Koy’s deep laughter was muffled by the skittering of another centipede train going by.
Sorry, thuxillean.
“The transports,” Val’Koy swallowed his amusement, “are for Drinish people and paying guests, not fighters.”
“But I saw Drinish people boarding the centipede.”
“Thuxillean.”
Dania frowned at Jruviin. “You know what I mean.”
When his blank expression faltered, and his lips tugged up at one corner, she pushed against his muscled arm. “Don’t be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“You know, the one that’s always correcting what other people say.”
Jruviin dragged a claw back and forth over his defined jaw, the tiny feathers there turning up before he smoothed them down. “But thuxillean is the correct n—"
“You’re doing it again.”
Val’Koy resumed his chuckling and Jru’s brows dipped, tail thumping against the side of the cart.
Hmm. So, he and Val shared another trait: their tail language.
“Some Drinish cannot afford transports,” Val answered. “The centipede,” he emphasized and Jruviin huffed, “is economical.”
He shared a grin with Dania and it quickly devolved into immature cackles while Jruviin stared flatly and shook his head.
“Aww,” she drawled, feeling a twinge of guilt. She reached over and rubbed the back of Jruviin’s shoulder closest to her. “I’m just teasing you.” He regarded her, his expression puzzled. “Sort of.”
His brow flattened again, and a squeaky laugh escaped her mouth before she could trap it with her hand.
“Lies,” he muttered.
“No, really,” Dania pleaded with her eyes, scooting closer until their legs brushed. “We humans like to tease with our words. It’s... humor. We usually don’t mean anything by it.”
Jru didn’t look convinced.
“I promise,” she crossed her heart. “It’s a good sign. Means I... I’m not afraid of you.”
Dania realized what she had said.
Jruviin had been her ghost, but she was no longer afraid of him. Jruviin had been polite, careful with her, and kind. In fact, she tried to think of a man in her life that had ever been so considerate, right from the jump, but she drew a blank.
His curled knuckles reached up and brushed against the side of her throat. So soft and warm, the gesture so gentle. When his callused thumb brushed against her cheek, she leaned into his touch.
A whistle trumpeted.
Dania jumped; the moment shattered. “What was that for?”
“First warning,” Val’Koy thickly said, clearing his throat. “We will be arriving soon.”
Jruviin bent forward to pluck her collar from the pack. She sighed, lifting her hair.
“Apologies, Dania,” he uttered softly as the metal closed with a deflating click.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Ouch!” Dania cried, hissing a breath and favoring her left foot. She stopped, bending over to pick a sharp pebble from her toe.
Val’Koy stopped in front of her and crouched down. His upper hands steadied her as his lower pair grasped her injured foot and gingerly examined it.
“Her flesh is too soft,” Jru uttered from above. Val grunted as he rose, sweeping her up to cradle against his chest. Her stomach fluttered.
“Warn a girl, would you?” She’d forgotten how disconcerting it felt to be carried. Men didn’t carry Dania. Human men usually couldn’t carry a full-figured woman, but Val’Koy didn’t bat an eyelid. He held her like she weighed no more than a full laundry basket—which she most definitely did.
“Is it painful?” Jruviin asked, taking a turn examining her foot. Damn, it was filthy.
“Just stings,” she admitted, tightening her arms around Val’s neck. “It could be worse. I can walk.”
“No,” Val’Koy rumbled, his warm breath fanning a stray curl near her temple.
“Yes,” she shot back and wiggled, bracing herself to be dropped. His grip was gentle, but like iron. He didn’t let her go.
“It is better if he carries you,” Jru sided with Val. “This ground is too rough, and your soles do not possess thick enough calluses.”
Her eyes darted over the brick path crowded with commuting aliens. It was littered with jagged pebbles just like the one that cut her toe.
Taking her silence as acceptance, they moved on.
It meant Dania didn’t have to watch her feet. She glanced around her, able to take in the city now. Just like sector thirteen, the blocky tall buildings were black, but they appeared cleaner. The never-ending storm above the dome raged on while they cut through the throng.
“Before check-in, we will shop,” Jru said to Val’Koy, who nodded.
“Shop for what? Toothpaste?” She moaned, running her tongue over her fuzzy teeth. “What depraved things I would do for something—anything—to clean my teeth. Even a frayed twig would work.”
Jruviin glanced at her sideways. “Do all Therrans offer to perform depraved acts for hygienic items?”
Dania nervously chuckled. “No, I didn’t mean it literally. Well, sort of. Maybe.” What would she do for toothpaste and a toothbrush? Jru looked confused. “Sometimes humans exaggerate. We want something so much that we say strange things we’d do to get it.”
“Humans follow through?”
“Uhh,” she hummed and shrugged, “not usually. It’s just a thing humans say.”
Jru scratched the feathers along his jaw, and she imagined he was digesting her words.
They stopped near a vendor with various sizes of synthetic footwear. Most of it looked like black socks. Jru held a couple up to the bottom of her foot, comparing length and width, and talked with the vendor in a language Dania couldn’t understand.
They seemed to agree on something, and Jruviin was presented with a holoscreen that had those strange glyphs again. He typed out the same sequence as before and Dania figured it had to be similar to an identification number like she had on Dor Nye.
They moved off to the side of the path and out of the milling crowd. Jru fished items from the pack.
“Socks won’t really help but thank you.” She offered a smile. It would be better than nothing.
“These coverings are made of programmed fibers,” Val’Koy told her. She stared at his lips while he spoke. “The soles harden and protect you from any terrain.”
The hint of a pink tongue behind his white teeth stirred memories to mind of how he’d licked her ne—
Dania gasped when cold water touched her foot.
Jruviin held up a rag and the canteen. “I must clean your feet.”
She bit into her bottom lip before muttering, “Thank you.” Probably best she not think of that night right now.
Even after he gently tugged on her new ankle sock things, Val didn’t set her down
. He didn’t until after they stopped at another vendor and Jru purchased a silver, unmarked tube. Dania flexed her toes. They really did feel like socks, but she couldn’t feel the sharp pebbles she stood on.
“Huh! That’s so neat!” she declared, rocking back on her heels and beaming at Jruviin. “Thank you!”
He dipped his head, his blue lips parting as he returned her smile, revealing his white, fang-like teeth.
“Open your mouth,” Val instructed. When she sent him a dubious glance, he smirked and held up the uncapped tube.
“You want to put that in my mouth?”
“The enzymes will break down food particles and build up,” Jru supplied. “It will clean your teeth since you implied your saliva does not contain efficient bacteria.”
“Oh! It’s like toothpaste then? What about a toothbrush?” she asked and tilted her head back. Val’Koy placed a dollop of the gray paste on her tongue and, almost immediately, she dry-heaved.
“No toothbrush necessary.” Jruviin canted his head.
“Swish it around,” Val’Koy mentioned, pointing to her mouth.
Dania shook her head, trying to keep her gorge down. The dollop was foaming, and it tasted awful. Her cheeks bubbled out and she wanted to spit so badly.
“Do you want clean teeth or not?” Val’Koy grumbled, his hairless brow ridge dipping dangerously low.
She wanted clean teeth. She really, really did. The fuzzy feeling was driving her batty!
Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Val’Koy’s skull dipped toward her, as if he were waiting for her to do as he said. “Then?”
She moved the foam around her mouth and gagged again, clasping a hand over her pinched lips and persevering. Tipping her head back to keep it in, she gurgled, “Tish tashts wike ash!”
Jruviin scratched his head. “What did she say?”
“It tastes like ash?”
“Ash? Do Therrans eat ashes?”
Val’Koy huffed. “How would I know?”
