by Ruby Dixon
And I feel a little shiver of apprehension or excitement—I'm not sure which—in my belly.
3
ASHTAR
I am the only drakoni gladiator that is in our group. Of all the slaves, there are the sixteen female humans, two a'ani gladiators, and a bestial male I have never seen the like of before and must be tied down lest he attack. He snarls and rages, and the two a'ani are silently mistrusting.
Me, I just want to know when I can see the females again. Well, not all of them. Just the one I have decided is mine. They have been taken off to another chamber and we are forced to sit here with the one called Vektal while he tries to explain our situation. I listen absently, making note of the big details. Khui for survival. Ice-world. No rescue. Freedom from slavery. That last part I will have trouble believing. Slavers are one of the few sureties in life. When he mentions the females, though, I pay attention.
"Your khui, it will select a female for you, one that will be your perfect mate," Vektal says.
I sit up straighter, and I notice the other males are paying more attention, too. If they are gladiators like me, they have never been around females, either, unless given one as a prize.
Vektal taps a hand to the center of his plated chest. "You will resonate here. It will fill you with intense hunger for the female and it will want you to mate immediately. She will be your female and the only one you will ever want. When you resonate to each other, you will give her a kit." He hesitates, then frowns. "Do I need to explain to you how a male puts a kit in a female?"
I rub my chin and lean forward. "Tell us more about the females and this resonance. Do we choose the female?"
"No. But it does not matter. The khui always chooses."
One of the red a'ani shifts impatiently, glancing at the room that the females have disappeared into. "One of them has a kit inside her already. Where is her mate?"
"She has none."
"Then you lie?" The a'ani looks insulted.
Vektal shakes his head. "She was given a kit before she came here. I am told by the other humans that this does not mean she has a mate yet. The khui will decide."
"If she does not have a mate, then I want her," the a'ani declares.
The other frowns. "I want her."
"If we are claiming females, the clumsy one is mine," I say quickly. "If another male so much as looks at her, I will rip his throat out with my fangs." And I display them just so they know I am not joking.
The beast-male just growls furiously, as if he needs to declare his territory as well.
"No," Vektal says, raising a hand in frustration. "No one is claiming females. They get to decide for themselves!"
"But you just said—"
The mesakkah—or sa-khui as they call themselves here—raises both hands, his jaw clenched. "You do not listen. The females can do as they please. If they wish to take a pleasure-mate amongst you, they can. But it will be temporary, because if the khui resonates, a mate will be chosen."
"And then we claim our females," I declare proudly. I like this planet so far.
"No, then you must wait for the female to give you permission to claim her."
"But you said the khui chooses," the a'ani begins again, rubbing his jaw. "So both the khui and the female must choose?"
"It is complicated," Vektal agrees. "But human females are very complicated creatures. They do not like to listen to what they are told, as well I know. My mate is human."
"Which one?" I demand to know, my possessiveness flaring. I can feel my eyes go black. "Not the clumsy one with the brown hair?"
"She is not here. She is back in our village."
I relax. "So my female is unclaimed, then."
"She is not yours."
"Not yet," I tell him confidently. "She will want me. Am I not strong and appealing?" I gesture at myself.
Vektal's mouth twists. "You have not met many human females, I see. As I said, they are complicated creatures. You will learn."
"Then you will not keep us separated from them?" One of the a'ani sits up, red body stiff with alertness.
I watch the blue sa-khui warily. I am curious about this question as well.
"As long as you are not violent to them, I see no reason not to."
The two a'ani exchange a look. I mull this as well. It sounds like more freedom than any slave pen has ever given in the past. "So we are not to mate with them without permission."
"No," Vektal says. His tail flicks and I can tell he does not even like that we bring it up. Near him, the beast-creature just snarls his displeasure and struggles in his bonds. If he knows how to speak, he does not indicate it. I do not care about him at all, save that his bad behavior might cause us to be separated from the females.
So I ask more questions. "What if the females invite us to mate them?"
"Then you may mate them." He rubs his brow.
"What if…" one of the a'ani begins, sitting up straighter. "What if one trips and falls and lands upon my cock? Can I mate her if she is on me?"
This seems like a valid question. I look at the leader.
For some reason, he has both of his hands over his face. "No," he says flatly. "No one will trip and fall upon your cock."
"They might," I add. "You never know." I think of the clumsy one who dropped her blanket and revealed her breasts and belly. In my mind's eye, I see her bending over to pick something up, her rounded, strangely pale buttocks in the air. My cock stirs with excitement and I send out another mental pulse, trying to connect to her. I am disappointed when I contact nothing again.
"No, they will not," Vektal says again. "Because you are going to be wearing clothing."
"Bah," I say, hating the idea already. "Only a fool wears something that can have him grabbed by an opponent in the arena." One of the a'ani nods agreement.
"You are not in ree-nah, whatever that is." Vektal stabs a finger at the ground. "You are here in my tribe, and you will wear at least a loincloth, so I do not want to see anyone tripping and falling on females!"
"Bah," I say again. "How are we supposed to find out if they wish to mate, then? I do not know a human's mating battles."
"She will tell you."
Interesting. "Is that all it takes?"
"For some. This is very new to them, though. You must be patient. The khui will choose, and then you will understand. Until then, you must be patient." Vektal gets to his feet. "And now we will get you clothing."
Patience. Clothing. I suppose I can do these things if it will get me the brown-haired female with the big, watchful eyes. I can be patient. I can wear clothes if I must.
4
VERONICA
It has been the longest day. I bunk down next to Hannah and Bridget, and they immediately snuggle closer to me, trying to share warmth. I'm wearing a fur-lined tunic, leggings, fur-lined boots, and have two blankets over me and I still feel like a brick of ice. This planet is incredibly cold and we're lying on what feels like metal flooring, which doesn't help. My teeth chatter and I try to burrow deeper under the blankets.
"Why couldn't we have been dropped off on a beach planet instead of a damn ice planet?" Hannah gripes, shifting in her bunk. "Better yet, why don't they turn the heat on in this ship?"
"You heard what they said, Hann," Bridget says, and blows on her hands. "If they use too much power it sends up a fuel signature or something."
Right. Because the blue guys have decided that we are going to take the ship to the nearest beach and dump it so no one can track down their village and enslave them. I get it, but I can't help but feel a tiny, tiny stab of resentment that no one says, "Why don't we just fly these newcomers home?" They explained why, but it doesn't mean I don't wish there was a different option.
I can feel Bridget tremble next to me. "What I don't get is why these blue guys are wandering around in loincloths."
"Maybe they don't f-feel the c-cold," I say between chattering teeth. "They're n-nice at least." And they are. Everyone's been the epitome of fri
endly and understanding, even when Hannah resorts to bitchiness because she's scared and a girl named Marisol tries to run away and hide. Even when some of the girls cry over the smallest things. Even when I drop a boot three times in a row because I'm so distracted that my klutziness is kicking in, and the third time I accidentally dropped it in the fire. No one gets mad. Everyone is nice and friendly and understanding.
It makes me feel bad that I freaking hate this place.
Because I do. I hate it here. It's cold and terrible and full of strangers and I feel so stupidly helpless. We've stayed inside the ship's berth for most of the day, getting information dumped on us by the blue guys and their human wives, but I took a quick peek outside when one of the blue guys wandered out. What I saw out there utterly terrified me—endless hills of white snow, distant white-capped mountains and gray skies. The air is cold inside the ship, but outside it's so damn cold that it feels like it's freezing in my lungs.
I can't imagine anyone living in that, much less wandering around in a breechcloth. But every time one of the others has brushed my hand to give me something, I've been struck at how incredibly hot their body temperature is. The big blue aliens don't need much clothing, but their human wives wear jackets and warm clothing. They promise that the cold won't be nearly as bothersome once we get our parasites.
Something to look forward to, I guess.
Tonight, I'm really freaking looking forward to it because I can't seem to get warm no matter what. I tuck my hands into my furry sleeves and pull my blanket up to my nose so my breath will catch under it, but I still can't get warm. It's going to be a long, awful wait for my parasite. Never thought I'd hear myself say that.
Still, I'm pretty tired and mentally drained from the day. Despite the never-ending clack of my teeth, the nearby fire offers a pleasant crackle and everyone else has bedded down, ready to end the day. I'm able to drift off toward sleep…almost.
"Hello females," a voice whispers loudly from nearby. It's a man.
I sit up, rubbing at my eyes and squinting in the dark. Someone squats nearby, but the eyes aren't glowing. One of the new guys, then. At my side, Bridget snorts awake and then moans. "Oh my god, I was dreaming I was back home. Why'd you assholes wake me up?"
"I wish to say hello to my female," the man says again, as if she addressed him. I can just barely make out golden skin and a puff of hair. I know who that is, and my cheeks burn with awkward embarrassment.
"Uh, what?" Now Hannah's awake and I can vaguely see her glaring into the dark. "Your female?"
"Not you," he says, and Hannah makes a sound of outrage. He clarifies a moment later. "The one with the noisy teeth."
I groan and pull my blankets over my head again. Does he think this is funny? "Go away."
"Did I say something wrong? I wished to learn your name." He sounds confused, like he doesn't understand why I'm not slobbering all over his feet.
"I'm Bridget," the girl next to me says with a yawn.
"Not you," he says again.
She only giggles and pokes me in the side, as if all of this is wildly amusing.
"Veronica," I mutter under the blankets, not peering out. I'm not going to look at him. I'm not. He'll just try to dazzle me with his good looks and then say something that will make it all painfully obvious that he's just having a good time at my expense. I've had men do that before. Well, boys anyhow. They pretend like they're in love with you and then brag to their buddies what an easy lay you are because you're desperate. Been there, done that, no thanks.
"Veronica," he murmurs thoughtfully. "I like it. It is a fine name."
I pull the covers down from my face, just a smidge. He's the first alien to say my name correctly. Most of the blue guys call me Ron-ka or Vuh-ron-ca or something equally mangled. It's like I've got too many syllables, so it's just too bad for me. But the fact that he pronounced my name correctly means he's trying. It's nice. I…guess I can be nice, too. "What's yours?"
"I am called Ashtar of the Drakoni, Three Time Champion of Praix XXIII."
"Um, all that?"
"Well, you may call me Ashtar." He sidles a bit closer, until he's practically stepping on Bridget in his eagerness to get to me and talk. "I like your smell."
Hannah groans with disgust and gets to her feet, picking up her blankets. "I'm going to go and sleep next to Nadine or Tia."
She leaves, and I notice someone else moving around in the background, this one with glowing eyes. He moves nearer to the fire, and a long, messy braid slides over one shoulder. I think I remember that guy. Zo…Zo-something. He's watching Ashtar closely, and that makes me feel a little better. Not that I think Ashtar would hurt me, but it was made clear to me long ago that I'm a terrible judge of men.
"Nice to meet you, Ashtar," I whisper. I'm still a little mortified by the whole “smell” thing, but maybe that's a greeting among his people and I'm misconstruing things.
He moves in just a little closer. "Do you want me to mate you, Veronica?"
Bridget chokes and gets up, moving her bedding away as far as possible. My cheeks heat and I want to crawl back under the covers and just die. "No. Just go away."
"I cannot mate you without permission, the chief says. Do you give me permission?"
I pull the covers back and glare at him. "What? No! Still no! A hundred times no!"
He rubs his chin in the dark and sighs heavily. "I am doing this wrong, am I not? You are the first female I have ever met. I do not know how to talk to you."
I prop up on my elbows, surprised at this admission. "You what? I'm the first girl you've ever met?"
"Yes."
"But you met the others. You talked to Liz and Harlow—"
"Bah. They do not count."
Well now, I feel oddly flattered. "Pro tip for you, then, buddy—you don't go up to women and tell them you want to mate them. That's not how it works."
"I am being patient, though. I'm wearing a loincloth and asking."
I smack a hand to my forehead. For some reason, I feel the urge to giggle. Nearby, someone else snicker-snorts under their blankets and I remember that we're surrounded by people. Bridget is literally three feet away on my other side, and Zo-whatever-his-name is glaring at both of us from by the fire. I'm about as safe as a girl can be. "You've really got to work on your playbook, Ashtar."
"Playbook. I do not know this word." He continues to rub his jaw.
That's another thing that's throwing me off. "How do you know any of our words?"
"I was given a translation chip by my first master. It is much easier to have a slave follow directions when they understand you." Amusement colors his tone.
I feel a twinge of sympathy. "You were a slave?"
"Oh, many times over. You were not?"
"No, this is my first roundabout with…all this." I wave a hand at the frigid air.
"Ah. I am a slave many times over. They took me from my planet before I even had my fire ceremony."
"Shhhhh," someone calls nearby. "Trying to sleep."
I grimace. "Sorry," I call out and try to pull the blankets up, lying back down to end the conversation. "Go to sleep, Ashtar."
"But I wish to talk."
"We can talk tomorrow." Anything to get him to stop paying attention to me.
It goes quiet and I keep my eyes closed, determined not to look over in case he's still there. Of course, the moment I have nothing to focus on but the fact that I'm freezing to death, my teeth start to chatter again. My entire body quakes with a shivering I can't control, and it's so miserable I want to cry, except I'm pretty sure my tears would freeze on my lashes.
"You are cold?" Ashtar's voice booms out in the silence, indignant.
"Shhh," someone else calls.
"For fuck's sake, go to sleep!" Liz bellows off to one side of the room.
I rub a hand over my face, wondering what it'll take to get Ashtar to leave me alone. "Yes, I'm cold. Please go to sleep, all right?"
"I am not cold. Drakoni are very warm.
Here, touch my hand."
I open my eyes and in the next moment, there's a big hand in front of my face. He's now crouching near my shoulder, and I stare up at the clawed fingers. His hand is huge, but his nails are like talons. That's…alarming. I give him a quick touch so he'll go away—
And then gasp because it's like touching a space heater. "Oh my god, you ARE warm."
"I am," he agrees smugly. "Shall I lie down with you and share my warmth?"
I hesitate. I'm torn. So torn. On one hand, I wish he'd go away because all of this attention is making me extremely uncomfortable. On the other hand, he's really freaking warm and we're in a room piled full of people. Surely…surely that'd be safe?
"I'll sleep next to you if you're warm," Bridget calls out from my other side and pats the floor. "Come on over, hot stuff."
"Not you—" he begins.
I grab his hand to get his attention. "Wait, you can sleep between me and Bridget." That's the ultimate in safety, right? Everyone's warm and no one's cuddling alone under a blanket with a stranger.
He considers this for a moment, not pulling his hand away. "This pleases you?"
"Absolutely."
Ashtar grunts and moves between us, lying down. Bridget immediately tosses a blanket over him, and I feel weirdly jealous of that small move until he holds up one side, indicating I should join them. I slide over.
Before I can even get under the covers, Zo-whatever is there, crouching near our heads and glaring at Ashtar. "You need to leave the females alone, golden one."
"It's okay," I say quickly. "We're just sharing body warmth. Nothing sexy."
"We are not mating yet," Ashtar reassures him loudly. "I am wearing a loincloth."
Several people snicker at that and I feel like falling through the floor all over again. The blue alien looks at me with a slight frown on his mouth, and for some reason, I'm reminded of my dad and the times he met my high school boyfriends. "He is not bothering you, Ron-ka?"
"Nope. It's all good." I put a hand on Ashtar's shoulder to pat him, and then I want to crawl all over the man, because god, he really is warm.
