And then he pumped a few more times and stilled. He groaned into her mouth as he jetted wave after wave of cum inside of her. She widened her legs and grabbed his ass, wanting to keep every bit of him inside of her, capture every last drop of seed. She often felt that the only thing missing to make this more perfect was if she was still young enough to create and bear offspring.
And then a faint memory tugged at the edges of her vision of her prior life. It fluttered right there at the periphery and might resurface, and then it was gone. Her lips pursed in disappointment.
“What is wrong?” he asked, kissing her on the throat. Kroga’s attentiveness and proximity was the one thing that always kept her sane while she dealt with this memory loss. He was kind and patient and she appreciated that he didn’t treat her like an invalid.
She blinked and shook her head, then smiled bravely up at him. “Nothing,” she answered. “I’m fine.”
“I love you, my Be’Ih,” he told her.
Her heart melted and she kissed him on the lips, tracking his sexy fangs with her tongue. “I love you too,” she replied. And she did. She loved this male more than life itself.
And then the bunk bounced as Jasper, their orange and white cat, jumped onto the bed and began purring and rubbing against her shoulder. “Oh gosh, how long have you been in here?” she chuckled.
Kroga shook his head and used an enormous claw to gently push the cat off the bed. “Human pets,” he grumbled. Then he kissed her nose ridges and lifted off her, pulling his softening cock from her body. She whimpered at the loss.
“Don’t worry, Be’Ih, we can mate again later this diurnal.”
She sighed dramatically. “Okay.” Although it was going to be difficult to wait that long. She was always impatient to mate with Kroga, as if she could never get enough, or this might be their last time. She attributed this desperation to her lack of memories. The present was all she knew, and it had to count.
“I will always take care of my Bride’s every need,” he announced. She stared at his muscular magnificence as he got up and strode naked into the restroom, the door sliding behind him. Eventually she heard the sound of the cleansing unit starting.
“Damn, that male is handsome,” she remarked.
Then she pulled up the sheet to her neck, rolled over and snuggled her cheek against the cat that had returned to the bed and was now purring at her side. Jasper’s sibling, a female named Abby, also jumped onto the bed. The two of them loved it when she tickled their stomach with her claws and rubbed their heads. They didn’t have the same amount of heft and armor as domestic pets back on Chronos, but she still enjoyed these two creatures.
These cats, as well as Kroga, had gotten her through these last three moon cycles, living on the edge of the universe while having entirely lost her history, and therefore herself. She picked Jasper up and gently kissed his tiny face as the cat purred loudly. “Love you, little baby,” she whispered to the tiny creature.
Because she did, she so did.
“Okay,” she told them. “Let’s get up and start our day.”
2
“I wish we had offspring,” Melachine blurted. “I feel a longing. Like a part of me is incomplete.”
Kroga glanced at her as he stood at the counter in the mess hall prepping their breakfast. A strange look flittered across his normally harsh features, and then it was gone. He gestured to Abby and Jasper who were pacing nearby, their small tails swishing against Kroga’s muscular legs. “You have the cats. You are their mother,” he answered. And then he paused to toss a tiny piece of meat on the floor for each of them to snack on. They both let out adorable growls as they used their tiny fangs to feast on the meat. Kroga treasured those cats as much as she did, but for some reason he was always trying to hide his feelings.
“Yes. They’re sweet,” she acknowledged, “but it’s not the same as offspring…” And why didn’t they have offspring? The whole point of mating was to start a line. If she and Kroga had been mated for thirty years, where were their offspring?
“I am wary of speaking of this topic to you again,” he answered, the truth ringing out in his tone. He exhaled and put down the slab of meat he’d been shredding for their morning meal. “But you need to know this, so I will try again—we have two sons.”
Her eyes widened. “Try again? We’ve talked about this before? Wait, we have two sons? I have two sons?” Her breath caught in her throat and she placed a claw over her two beating hearts. “We have offspring?” Gods, amnesia sucked. How could she not know she had children? This was terrible.
“Yes, we have two sons and they are both grown warriors.”
“Wh…I…” she sputtered as she tried to bring up memories of her sons in her mind, but there was nothing. Nothing. She glanced around desperately. “Can I have visuals of them? I can’t remember what my own sons look like… What are their names?” How could she have given birth to two offspring and not even know their names? These children had grown in her own body and she’d pushed them out and she didn’t know what they looked like? How could she not remember their births?
“Our sons are Rayzor of Seventeen and Kayzon of Twenty-Three. But we cannot access any records of their past, or our own past for that matter.”
“Rayzor and Kayzon…?”
“Yes.”
She threw him an accusing stare. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? How could I be walking around not knowing about my own children?”
“Melachine, I did tell you this. Of course, I told you about our offspring. Right after you woke from your initial coma in the med bay you demanded that I explain your entire past because you wanted to fill in the gaps of all of your lost memories. I tried to tell you of our offspring and then you screamed out in pain because your brain started hemorrhaging and you passed out and went into a coma again for two more full diurnals. Your recovery plan said to not overwhelm you with memories of the past until your brain is one hundred percent healed. I haven’t spoken of your past or our offspring to you since. I’ve been waiting for you to recover and to be ready to take on more memories.”
“You’ve been keeping our two sons secret because you’ve been worried for me?”
“Yes.”
She moved closer to him and he put an arm around her shoulders. “Have you spoken to them?” she whispered.
“Spoken to whom?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “To our sons, who else? Have you spoken to them since we’ve been out here?”
“No,” he answered, as if the idea was completely ludicrous. “No, I haven’t spoken to either of them. Melachine, we shouldn’t be speaking of this. Your mind—”
“No?” Disappointment flooded her mind. Why wouldn’t Kroga be in contact with their offspring? A wave of wooziness hit her hard as she tried again and again to remember her sons or make sense of the fact that she hadn’t seen them and Kroga hadn’t either.
And then a sudden headache began to stab at her neck and under her ridges and pulled her under like a tidal wave. She dropped his claw and rubbed at her temples. “Kroga, my head hurts. Help me…it—” And then she felt the pigment drain from her face and there was a painful tightness in her throat.
“Melachine? Mela—”
And then the blackness took her under.
Melachine woke up the next morning in the med bay.
“Godsdammit,” she muttered. Waking up here was happening too often for her own comfort. She was yet again covered with a translucent coma-shield. “Open,” she grouchily ordered the computer and the shield dissipated. And she sat up, pleased to see she was wearing an outfit she’d normally wear around the facility as she worked in the bridge. She glanced around at the empty med bay. How long had she been out this time?
A moment later Kroga rushed into the room. “Oh, thank gods. The computer alerted me you were awake. How are you?”
She lifted her claws and rubbed at her ridges. “I’m okay, but I don’t remember why I’m here. What happened this time
?”
“You tried to ask about your past and I tried giving you some information and you passed out.”
“Again? Ugh. I’m sorry. I wish I was stronger.” She felt like such a burden. How terrible for her mate that he had to put up with a Bride who wasn’t aware of their shared past. It must be so hard for him. She’d already apologized to him countless times.
“Be’Ih, there is nothing to be sorry about. I want nothing but your health and happiness.” He bent and kissed her lips. She closed her eyes and accepted his touch with gratitude and drew strength from his scent.
He pulled back and her eyes fluttered open.
“What did the med bay say about my prognosis?” she asked.
He lifted a claw to brush her braids back from her face. “The system said you are progressing,” he answered. “Two steps back but one step forward. You were in a coma for a shorter period of time, and you were able to accept more information about your past.”
“I’m recovering?”
“Slowly. Your brain is now eighty-five percent healed.”
“Oh. That’s good news, right?” The last time she’d woken from a coma she’d only been at seventy percent.
“Yes, I believe it is.” And then he reached out and took her claw in his own and helped her up from the bunk. “How do you feel?”
She shrugged. “I feel fine. Maybe a little hungry.” It was always like this. She woke up feeling well, as if she’d been through a long sleep. Meanwhile she knew Kroga had to have been terrified. “How are the cats?”
He chuckled. “They’re fine. I fed them and cared for them while you were healing. They’re in the hall.” He walked over and opened the door and clapped his claws and called their names. Jasper came running into the med bay first, and then Abby came trailing behind.
Her face crumpled into a watery smile. Melachine bent down and picked them up one at a time, petting her fur babies and brushing her cheek against their soft faces. Immediately her hearts warmed with their comforting heat. “Thank you,” she whispered to her mate.
He bent and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go to the mess hall to break our fast.”
She nodded in agreement and put the cats down and they walked hand-in-hand to the mess hall, with the cats trailing behind.
When they arrived Jasper and Abby meowed and rushed around her feet, clamoring for their own breakfast. She cleaned out their water bowl and gave them fresh water. After that she gave them each a small portion of whatever Kroga was making for breakfast, except she shredded it for the tiny cats. Both cats seemed to enjoy Xylan meat and it helped them to grow strong.
“Do you want your havel rare or seared?” Kroga asked.
“Rare.”
He nodded. He was listening to Xylan war chants as he worked. Kroga tapping on the food dispenser, rocking to music and singing along with his deep voice. It was wonderful. He was mesmerizing. This was because he appeared truly happy. Well, not truly happy. She could tell there was always a hint of sadness behind his eyes. An extra worry line in his ridges. A lack of shine in his silver. Sometimes he fisted his claws and looked away, took a deep breath, and then turned back to plaster a smile just for her. “It’s nice to have you back. Sit,” her mate ordered. “I will feed you.”
She walked over to her place at the table. He always did this, for each meal. He insisted on feeding her. She had no idea if he’d done this all the years they’d been together. She didn’t remember any of their past, which was disturbing, but she knew that in the present he was very attentive. He’d known since the first day she’d woken in med bay exactly what she liked to eat and drink. Kroga seemed to genuinely enjoy pampering her.
In return she tidied their quarters regularly and made sure all of their clothing was always put through the wall cleansing unit and then put away in the cabinets. She also changed their bedding on their bunk and made sure their quarters smelled nice.
“I am pleased that you appear happy,” she said.
“You make me happy,” he said. “I am honored to be by your side each diurnal.”
She teared up at his beautiful words. And he always spoke like this to her, making her feel like the most important thing in his life. How did she get so lucky to have a mate this attentive and wonderful? Were all mated pairs this happy? It couldn’t be possible, right?
“It never ceases to amaze me, what I can remember and what I can’t,” she commented as they ate. “I can remember how to make Traq. I can remember what I like to eat. But I can’t remember anything from my past. What was my extended line like, Kroga?”
“You were born in House Ulmath but you then merged with my line and moved into our compound.”
“I did?” And then her head began to hurt again.
“Stop,” Kroga said gently, placing a claw over her hand. “Every time we speak of the past it causes you pain.”
“But I’m worried if we don’t speak of this, my memory will never return.”
“It will, just let it happen naturally. I hate to see you in pain and I don’t want to risk throwing you into another coma. I want my mate healthy as well as happy.”
Her eyes grew hot and she blinked away the tears, determined to not cry and remain strong. He was wonderful. Since the moment she’d initially woken up in the med bay she’d been clinging to him, needing him to guide her along. It was terrifying waking up with a black hole where her past was concerned.
“My Be’Ih,” he groaned. “If you keep looking at me that way, I will fuck you here in the mess hall again and we’ll never get any work done this morning. I haven’t had you for over two diurnals, do not tempt me.”
She laughed. This had happened often, having hot sex in the mess hall, because they couldn’t keep their claws off of each other. “I will stop.” She winked at him and then grabbed his crotch, feeling his long, hard pipe through the fabric of his trousers. “As soon as you put out my fires.”
Within minutes he had her own trousers off and he was sinking his cock into her welcoming heat.
3
After he’d fucked her into two different orgasms and then fed her breakfast, Kroga gave her one last lingering kiss as he left.
He went into the cargo bay in order to begin using the mini forge to process scrap junk back into base metals that they could resell to individuals or governments in the four sectors. “I’m going to the mini forge, first,” Kroga reminded her, “and then I’ll be outside tackling that new piece of broken shuttle.”
“Oh, okay, be careful.”
“I will.”
She paused to herd the cats back into the living areas, making sure they were kept out of the dangerous side of the facility. They’d placed cat toys and a play structure here for them. The mini forge was dangerous, and she and Kroga had discovered if they let the cats onto the bridge they could jump onto the consoles and step on screens and buttons and then start and stop systems that weren’t meant to be touched. Abby and Jasper were allowed to run free in the hallways, the private quarters and the mess hall, but the outboard tunnel, the cargo bay, mini forge and the bridge were firmly off-limits.
“Sorry, kitties,” she told them as she shut the door to the bridge on their cute little attentive faces. “We’ll be back at midday meal. Bye, sweeties.”
And she stepped onto the bridge and sat in her chair at her personal console.
She’d spent a lot of time organizing this small facility into a place where they could both become comfortable. When she’d first arrived, three moon cycles ago, section five had been dirty and cold with a coating of space dust from lack of proper maintenance. The prior tenant, a Creekan male living on his own, had passed away in his sleep of natural causes related to advanced age. Melachine had kept busy and distracted from the black hole in her brain by working alongside Kroga to learn their new business. It turned out they weren’t just going to hide out here, they were going to work too.
Out here in the Swirl, on the extreme edge of the known universe, there was a thriving
recycling community of a variety of species from the four sectors. The Swirl was an enormous never-ending collection of space junk, brought here and suspended by space currents. It was all the refuse of the universe, and the majority was easily recyclable. But it was extremely difficult to relocate to this section of obscure space and set up a recycling facility. The Swirl was an area that most beings did not contemplate trying to reach. There were four hungry black holes to bypass to get here and the death rate of that harrowing journey was 50%. The beings who lived in the Swirl were desperate enough to contend with the idea of a fifty-fifty chance they might die during the journey.
Why had they decided to come out here? Why were she and Kroga so desperate? But, again, her memory was failing her. She couldn’t seem to remember anything except the actual present, what she was doing right now, or from when they’d first arrived here, about three moon cycles ago.
She’d woken up in a med bay and Kroga told her that she’d had a head wound during the trip there, but they were both alive, which was the most important thing. They’d made it intact. And her memory loss was a result of this head wound.
Eighty-five percent of her brain was now healed, but it was still annoying and disorienting to be living a life without any knowledge of her past. She couldn’t even remember the day she and Kroga met, she didn’t remember any family or friends and she didn’t have any memory of their testing or their claiming.
Did they have offspring? She didn’t know.
Melachine blew out a breath and got to work, purposely deciding to not fret about the emptiness of the past. This was what had thrown her into her prior coma, and she had no desire to return to the med bay. Working helped her to keep her mind off her worries.
They were starting to have a good work/life rhythm on section five.
Kroga was mainly in charge of retrieving the space junk for scrap. He shredded it and brought it inside to the mini forge and melted it down into its base metals, which ended up in handy blocks ready to be transported to customers. Because it was only the two of them, this meant that their output wasn’t as optimal as the other sections that had a larger workforce, but it was enough to keep their business running at a substantial profit.
The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8 Page 74
