by Dixon, Ruby
His eyes light up. “You wish to share?”
“No, I didn’t say that — I mean, I can go back to my farm.”
Nassakth shakes his head. “No, Kim. You are mine now. I am going to keep you.”
“Platonically,” I tell him, even as I blush.
He chuckles. “Yes. Platonically.” He gestures at the large room. “Please make yourself at home. We can go to your farm tomorrow and pick up some of your things, and set up perimeter droids to keep things safe.”
“That sounds good.” I know it’s still early in the day, but I’m utterly exhausted. I need to sit down and process everything that’s happened to me so far and a nap sounds like just the ticket.
The big alien nods at me. “There is food in the kitchen. Help yourself.” He pauses, gazing down at me, as if he wants to say more. He doesn’t, though. He just nods one more time, turns on his heel, and walks down the hall.
I’m alone in a stranger’s house.
I shut the door behind me and fasten the locking mechanisms, even though I know they’re probably coded to his prints and won’t stop a thing. It makes me feel better. More secure. I eye the enormous bed and take my shoes off, then climb in.
It’s…weird. I crawl forward, not sure if I should sleep in the middle of the bed like a pepperoni in the center of a pizza, or if I should move to one of the sides? I lie flat on my back, and then flop around a few times, trying to get comfortable. I roll into a divot, and suddenly it smells a bit masculine and earthy, and I realize this must be where the praxiian sleeps.
Nassakth, I remind myself.
Even though it’s been less than a day, I need to think of him as a person. As a friend. As someone to trust.
The thought’s a little terrifying. It’s been so long since I’ve trusted anyone.
So far, though, Nassakth has been more than fair. He’s been nice. Courteous. I remember him opening my door. I remember him quietly correcting the clerk who married us when the man didn’t see the point of our mating. He gave me half his property.
He stayed in stun-cuffs all night when he could have snapped them and wrung my neck.
And he never touched me, even when out of his head with the noli.
I rub my hand, thinking about how he licked at my palm as if his life depended on it. As if, well, it were other parts of my anatomy and he was trying desperately to make me come.
I squeeze my thighs tightly together at that thought.
18
NASSAKTH
There is no pleasure quite like the knowledge that one’s mate is sleeping in one’s bed. It does not matter to me that she isn’t ready to share it just yet. She knows my intentions. She knows I plan on keeping her.
And she said she would like a baby.
I would like nothing more than to give her one.
I rake my hand over my face, messing fur tufts, and try to clear my head of the thought of Kim underneath me, looking up at me with anticipation. That is a dream right now, and until she learns to trust me, it will remain a dream.
So…I must make her feel safe and secure in this new life we are starting together. I want to learn about her, to decipher her past so I can determine the best way for us to move forward. It is clear she has experienced bad things that have made her wary despite her generally innocent, trusting nature. I decide I must be honest with her at all times, and show her that I am not to fear.
The brutal Nassakth, Arena Scourge of Askorthi Prime, is not the same Nassakth that she married. I am different now. I am retired. I have no desire to rip anyone’s throat out…unless they threaten my mate. But she does not need to see that side of me. I will show her kind, wealthy Nassakth who merely wishes a pretty human companion to spend his days with…and to spend his nights impregnating.
The thought makes me sweat. Perhaps I have not worked all of the noli out of my system yet, because I need a few moments to calm down. I move to the window and gaze out at the fields, at the rolling land and the large trees I had imported from a distant world and transplanted here because Risda III does not have many forests. I have done much to make this quiet place my home, and I have wanted for nothing, desired nothing beyond what I have…until I saw her.
Now I must win her.
Winning Kim’s heart is not like winning an arena battle. Violence and brute force will not help my cause. Cunning, though…I can be cunning.
I must show her what a good mate I can be.
Rubbing my hands, I race to the kitchen to see what I can cook my pretty mate for an evening meal. Fresh meat, I decide, with veg from the gardens. A nice Kessian wine.
I will be charming and smooth and I will brush my tail for her again…and she will be unable to resist.
* * *
* * *
I prepare a spicy, herbed roast to perfection, so juicy and tender that my mouth waters. I am not a fan of veg—most praxiians eat nothing but meat—but I cook a little up for my pretty human companion, toasting some roots and tossing them in yet more herbs. I select a fine wine, set the table, and wait.
Kim still has not yet emerged from the bedroom, so I put the food in a warming oven and tend to my plants to pass the time. There are automated bots that can ensure the plants are all watered and fertilized properly, but I like to tend to them myself. It gives me great pleasure to check on each plant, to touch the green leaves and turn it toward the sunlight streaming through the windows. Plants are such a simple pleasure that I do not deny myself any of them, and it takes me a long time to work from room to room, watering and nipping at dead leaves, adding nutrient tabs when necessary, and losing myself in the pleasure of my greenery.
One of the plants has a leaf peppered with holes, and I find the culprit after searching through the arching fronds—a caterpillar has somehow gotten inside and began feasting. With a careful touch, I ease it onto my finger. No sense in killing something that is only doing what it must to stay alive. I eye the small green worm as it crawls across my claws, trying to go back to my plant. “I am afraid you cannot stay,” I murmur to it. “These plants are not yours to eat. Outside, though, there is a feast for you, my friend.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Kim’s sleepy voice makes me turn around.
I whirl about, pleasure making my face crease in a smile. She looks delightfully tousled, her tunic and trou wrinkled from sleeping, her hair crushed flat on one side of her head and tangled. Her eyelids are heavy and she looks so utterly delectable that I cannot decide if I want to squeeze her against me or drag her back to the bed and claim her.
Instead, I hold out the caterpillar. “A little visitor.”
“Oh, a caterpillar? That’s…” She blinks three times, and then falls over in a dead faint.
I let out a shout of horror and return the caterpillar to the nearest plant, then leap to my mate’s side. Kim’s face is utterly pale, and I scoop her in my arms and bound toward the med-center I had installed in the basement of my home. I barge down the stairs and shout orders at the computers, gently laying the tender human on the examination bed. “Do a full medical scan of the human.”
My heart pounds as I lean over her, holding her small hand in mine.
Kim cannot be ripped from me, not when I have finally claimed her as mine. The universe is surely not that cruel.
The scanner gently moves over her, and I watch her pale face, my heart scarcely beating.
“Ailment determined,” the med-scanner finally declares. “Ideopathic syncopal episode.”
That sounds…nightmarish. My poor Kim. I stroke her cheek with one finger, trying to be tender. “Is she dying?” I ask. “What can I do? Does she need a doctor?” I do not think there is one on the planet, but I will empty my coffers to ensure she has the best medical care needed.
“Negative,” the med-scanner replies. “The issue is benign.”
“Benign?” It sounds horrific. I pull up a datapad and search the medical banks…and see that an “ideopathic syncopal episode” means that she fainted. Oh.
<
br /> “Shall I awaken her?” the med-scanner asks.
“Please.” I squeeze her hand tightly as the med-scanner snaps a small pod under her nose and wafts a stinking chemical into her nostrils. The smell of it is pungent but I do not move from her side. If anything, I hover closer.
I want to see her eyes open.
19
KIM
When I wake up and see the big face looming over mine, I’m confused. I’m flat on my back and just woke up, and I wonder if I’m still in bed. I touched myself—just to take the edge off, of course—to thoughts of the praxiian, trying to get my mind used to the idea, and it turns out…I didn’t hate it.
I didn’t hate it at all.
And the praxiian is gazing down at me with such tender concern on his fierce face that it makes my pulse flutter. Did he know what I was doing? Did he come in here to see…?
But then a robot waves something that smells like a stink bomb under my nose again, and I gag, pushing it aside. I struggle to sit up, and Nassakth supports me with a big hand on my back. I remember now. I woke up from my nap, went to find him…and saw it.
I shudder.
“Are you sick?” Nassakth asks, rubbing my back. “Do you need a drink of water?”
“I’m okay.” I put a hand to my forehead. “I just need a moment.”
“You are not okay. You fainted.” There’s a little growl in his voice. “Why did you faint?”
Do I tell him the truth? “It…it’s stupid.”
Something swats my leg. I glance down and it’s his tail, striking the side of the bed with annoyance. I look around and realize I’m not upstairs at all, but in what looks like a medical clinic of some sort. He did mention he had one downstairs in an antechamber. That must be where I am.
“It will be far stupider if you do not tell me what caused you to faint.” Nassakth doesn’t sound happy. I glance over at him and he’s looking me over with a frown, that tail swishing with irritation.
Did he…did he brush his tail again? The thick, fluffy fur looks awfully smooth and inviting to the touch.
“Well?” he practically snarls.
Right. I rub a hand over my brow again. “It was…the thing on your hand.” I can’t say the word. Just thinking about it makes me feel faint again.
He looks down at his big hand. “Thing?”
“You…you were holding it.” I shudder at the thought of all those arms and legs, that green body, the slinking way it moves, one segment after another, and my gorge rises. “Reminded me of…things.”
Nassakth pauses. “The…bug?”
I press my fingertips to my mouth, because it’s filling with saliva. It’s a stupid reaction, but I can’t help it. “Bad…memories,” I manage to wheeze out.
He stares at me for a moment. Then it dawns on him. “When you were a slave, was your owner a Lrulti?”
I manage to nod, though I’m sweating. Just thinking about it brings back a host of ugly memories. Of being taken by hideous aliens only to be handed off to an even more hideous alien, one that looked like a giant, mutated caterpillar and spoke a high-pitched, buzzing language that made my ears hurt. One that insisted I touch him and pleasure him…every single segment.
And I did what I had to do to survive.
“I’m gonna puke,” I whisper.
Instead of handing me a barf bucket, Nassakth crushes me against his chest. My face is suddenly filled with soft gray fur and underneath that, a hard, warm body. His big hand strokes my hair and he holds me close. “My poor Kim. I understand.” He keeps petting my head. “My owner was an ooli, and I suffer a similar problem when I see amphibians. Their skin makes me very angry. Very.” He rubs my back and squeezes me tight. “You are safe with me. I will never let anything or anyone harm you ever again.”
There’s such confidence in his voice that I believe him. And for some reason, my urge to puke is going away. It’s like him holding me is making all that awful tension relax, and my mouth stops watering and the urge to vomit dissipates. Instead, I relax against him and let him hold me close. It’s…nice. When was the last time I wanted to be touched? It’s been far, far too long. Yet since I’ve met Nassakth, he’s licked my hand, and petted my hair, and squeezed me against him. Praxiians are a touchy-feely race, I’m learning, and…I don’t hate it.
It’s kinda nice.
“I will get rid of my plants,” Nassakth says as I remain cuddled against his chest, breathing deep. “It was an interloper that found his way inside, but I will fix the problem and get rid of—”
“No,” I interrupt, petting his chest fur. He’s kind of like a lion from shoulders to mid-chest, all thick ruff. I twine my fingers in it, fascinated at how soft and thick it is. “You don’t have to do that. You love your plants.”
“But you are my mate. I will do anything for you.”
Which is sweet. “I would feel worse if you got rid of the things that bring you joy.”
“I have a new thing in my home that brings me joy.” And he strokes my hair again.
I smile against his chest fur. Twenty-four hours in and I’m wondering how I was ever terrified of this big cat. “Don’t get rid of your plants for me, okay? Just…maybe don’t show me the bugs.”
“No bugs,” he agrees firmly. “Never again.”
We sit in silence a moment longer, Nassakth petting me as I relax against him. “I’m sorry for my overreaction,” I say. I’m so embarrassed. Here I am trying to be a strong badass and I faint at the sight of a bug.
“You have nothing to apologize over. Who better to understand how you feel than a former slave?” He pats my back, his big hand thumping against my spine. “I understand far too well.”
I imagine he does. Funny how I never thought I’d have something in common with a praxiian, and now I’m wondering if we’re more alike than I ever thought.
20
KIM
He carries me back upstairs, even though I protest that I can walk on my own. Nassakth just won’t let me. The big cat alien sets me down gently in the bedroom and tells me to wait there while he takes care of the “problem.” I curl up on the bed, listening to him go outside, and when he returns, there is a grimly determined look on his face.
“Our visitor will not bother you any longer.”
I manage a smile at that. “Our visitor.” “Thank you. I know it’s silly—”
“It is not. You are allowed to feel however you feel. I will not judge such things.” His beautiful tail swishes. “Are you hungry? Or do you wish to go back to bed?”
I think of a million things I could be doing right now. I’ve got to check messages on my datapad, and write the next few chapters of my book. Everyone’s probably wondering where the hell I went because I haven’t posted in days. I need to contact my buyers for the noli flowers, and prepare to ship them soon, and then there’s the problem of my house, and learning this house, and and and…
It all makes me tired. When did my simple, too-quiet life get so busy? “I guess I could eat.”
Nassakth brightens. “Come, then.”
He helps me get up from bed, as if I’m the most fragile thing ever, and then keeps an arm around my waist, hovering over me as he leads me through the house and back to the kitchen area. The table is set with waiting glasses and a bottle of wine and a pretty, crawling-vine plant that has been artfully arranged at the far end of the table so we’ll have to sit together. My companion makes a growly noise in his throat at the sight of the plant and bounds over to the table to get rid of it. “I…forgot. Did this earlier. My apologies.”
I watch him rush out of the room and I feel…amused? And pleased. He’s trying so hard. I can’t help but appreciate it, and when he returns, I give him a faint smile. “Thank you.”
He pulls out a chair and indicates I should sit. “I will get the food from the warmer.” He waits for me to be seated, then pours me a glass of wine in a squat goblet. Then, he hesitates and brings me a glass of water, setting it next to the other. “Perhaps
you should drink that instead.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s been years since I’ve had wine.” I smile at him and take a sip. It’s strong, but sweet, and I let out a little sigh of pleasure. “This is really good. Thank you.”
I could swear Nassakth purrs, just a little. “I am glad I could provide it for you.” He heads into the kitchen, where I see a sinkload of dirty dishes, and I realize he’s been busy while I was asleep. Very busy. He taps a few buttons on the warmer and then pulls out a steaming, amazing-looking roast surrounded by vegetables.
Holy crap. I’m getting a gourmet meal instead of the usual noodles and dried meat that I subsist off of. “A wedding day celebration meal?” I ask, taking another sip of wine.
Nassakth looks down at the platter of food in his hands, and his thick brows furrow. “Should we have had a celebration meal?” He sets the tray down and carves a piece for himself, and then a thick slab for me, piling veggies onto my plate. “I did not think of it. My apologies, Kim.”
“You eat like this every day, then?” I’m surprised.
He gives me a feral, toothy smile. “If I am to farm for the rest of my days, I might as well eat fresh food, yes?”
Hmm. Another bonus point to this man’s farm. Mine only grows noli, and I can’t eat those. I sip more of the delicious wine. “Now you’re just trying to seduce me with food.”
“Is it working?” he asks bluntly. “Because if it does, I will feed you like a queen.”
I blush. “I was teasing. But…I do appreciate the food.” I hold my glass up. “And the wine that I’m drinking far too much of.”
He grunts and refills my glass when I set it down. “It is for you to enjoy.”
The meat is delicious and fresh. It’s a little overly rare and crusted with herbs, but Nassakth mentioned that his people like that sort of thing, so I don’t comment on it. Even if it’s not a hundred percent to my taste, it’s still the most delicious thing I’ve eaten in ages. The veggies are seasoned, too, and delicious, and I nibble on them while the cat alien takes huge, gulping bites of meat and equally large gulping tastes of wine.
