Aykeetan

by Harpie Alexander

  “Ha, I’m sure you need other things too, you goof.”

  This male is sweeter than chocolate, but I still need things, like some more clothes, art supplies, my home. I can’t wait to get off this darn ship.

  AS I EXIT THE SHIP, I bid everyone farewell and thank them again for helping us in our time of need. I’m not sure if I’ll be seeing them again, and the thought makes me a little sad. At least I finished making all those replicas for them.

  “Take care guys, I’ve had a great time. Enjoy the games!” I shout as I walk down the docking ramp.

  “Bring back more of these human games if you come back!”

  I don’t know who shouted that, but it makes me laugh. These males are addicted.

  The ship landed in the fields, so the walk to my cottage is short. It feels so nice to be back home. I rush up to the porch and burst my door open in excitement. It’s unlocked. Of course, it’s unlocked, I was abducted...and rescued. I focus on the after; the after is so much better anyways.

  I’m completely shocked. Nothing could have prepared me for what lay before me when I entered my home. Furniture flipped, cupboards open, pictures, vases and other belongings thrown across the floor, papers flitted about here and there. It’s a damn mess. What the hell happened? My home was not a mess during the abduction. What the damn hell were they looking for?

  I’m furious. This is my home, my personal space and someone had the audacity to enter it, uninvited and destroy it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aykeetan

  My mind lapsed in judgment, and the consequences are severe. The moment I stepped through my mate’s home; memories of that night came crashing back.

  I had awoken in the pit I fell in and knew something was immediately wrong. I climbed out of that hole and raced back my mate’s house to find her missing. In a desperate attempt to find her, I obliterated her home, knowing she wasn’t home but in my blind rage I couldn’t help myself. I’d nearly lost all control before I comm’d Rasheed in my desperation who came to my aid and assisted in the rescue.

  I’m ashamed I’d forgotten entirely, had I remembered I could have planned to come back here earlier and tidied up before my mate came back home. Her home is a disaster. I left no spot unturned, no shadow unlooked. I was a frenzied mess and now the consequences are as plain as day.

  The sound of her white knuckled, clenched fists, bone sliding over bone, pulls me from my thoughts.

  “This is all my doing,” I choke out. “It happened when I came back and you were missing.”

  “It was you?” She looks at me with accusation, hurt splattered over her pale face, her red hair like a fire. “Why?”

  I nod my head as I look down in shame. “I left that night to go hunting, and then went down to the beach to clean off and grab my supplies. On my way back, I fell down a hole and hit my head. When I came to, I knew something was up. I felt the painful pulse in my hearts, so I raced here, and you were gone. I was panicked, and this...this happened.” I gesture to my handiwork.

  “I had no idea. You should have told me.” She grabs my hand and gives me a gentle squeeze. “I admit that I was shocked and angry when I walked through the door, but somehow knowing that you did this in your fit to find me...is endearing.” She pulls me into a tight embrace, and we stand there for a while just holding each other.

  “You’re not off the hook, big guy. You’re going to help me clean this up.” Her face turns sour for just a split second. “And don’t ever do this again please, this is just awful.”

  I nod. “My deepest apologies, I’m not on a hook, but yes, I’ll help clean this mess I’ve made.”

  She laughs and bumps me in the arm, leaving me to wonder what was so funny about what I said. She’s lightening the mood. My appreciation for her grows, that she’s not sitting there flaunting my wrong doings in my not so finest moment, which makes me think she would be an excellent mother. My chest tightens.

  We spend the next several hours together cleaning her home. We righted furniture that has been overturned, place items back where they belonged, straighten out pictures, papers, pillows, tables and chairs.

  We tossed away many things too broken to be fixed. Sadness creeps into her eyes every time we do so. I’ve destroyed her home, and yet she understands and forgives me. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I never meant to hurt her or cause so much destruction to her home, so I make it my personal mission to never allow this to happen again.

  I know she hasn’t agreed to be my mate yet, but to me she already is. There is no one else out there for me. I’ve already went through my kavesta. To Kea’Terrans, once this has occurred, a mate is forever and final. There are no swaps or exchanges; it can’t be undone. Some have even taken their own lives after they have lost their mate, so that they could be with them in the after. That’s how permanent our bonds are.

  After so many hours of cleaning, I notice she is tiring. Her movements become slow, and she stops every once in a while, to rub her neck or her back. I took care of all the heavy lifting, leaving the smaller things for her. I know she wants to tidy and wash the floors, but she refuses to let me do it. Apparently, it must be done a certain way because nothing I say convinces her to change her mind.

  “I’m exhausted.” She wipes the sweat off her forehead.

  “Maybe you should take a break, I can finish up.”

  “That’s a good idea. If I keep going, I won’t be able to do anything else today. I’m going to grab some fresh air. You should come too.”

  She’s smiling at me as she walks towards the front, motioning me to come with her. It’s hard to resist, but I want to finish up here.

  “I’ll join you when this is finished.”

  “Aw, come on. Take a break.” She pouts. The curve of her lips makes me want to steal a kiss.

  “OK, how about this? If you dust for me while I take a break, when I come back, I can sweep and mop the floors, then everything will be finished.”

  “Dust?”

  “Yes, you can start in living room and work your way around. Start from the top and work your way down. That way it doesn’t settle over areas you've already cleaned. If the duster gets too dirty you can change the pad out for a new one.”

  OK, I’m not quite sure what dusting is, but I’m handed some fluffy thing with a handle on it. This must be the duster? I don’t know. I at least know what dust is; small particles in the air. What does she want me to do with them?

  I begin to wave the fluffy apparatus around in the air so I can dust for my mate. I fluff the air in the living room, top to bottom as she requested before doing the same in the cleansing unit, cookery, eating room and sleeping quarters. So many different rooms and so much air to dust. I’m quite proud of my work. I’m nearly finished, and I didn’t even have to change out the padding.

  “What the heck are you doing?” She laughs, the amusement in her face is comical. “You’re supposed to dust with that.”

  “I am dusting.” I replicate my well-practiced skills by waving the fluff in the air to dust. “See? Dusting.” Smiling at her in triumph.

  “I hate to break it to you, but that does absolutely nothing. Dusting is removing the dust off the surfaces of something, not waving around a feather duster in the air,” she says, then continues to laugh.

  Maybe I dusted incorrectly, but at least I made her smile, so it’s OK. “Alright, I’ll do it as you say this time, but only because you’re my mate. And then I’m going hunting because I would like some more of your Grandmas stew.”

  She doesn’t correct me when I call her my mate. Instead, she just looks at me with her soft hazel eyes. They are deep, full of passion and life, and something else. Love maybe?

  I finish dusting her home and I kiss her on the forehead before leaving to hunt. The meal I caught for us before is long gone and the stew needs to have high quality, fresh meat. The day is still young, the sun is beating down, so I know there will be plenty of prey lurking for the taking.

  I
catch a whiff of a familiar scent. My ears perk up and my fangs throb with excitement. The wood beast. I follow the smell of my prey until it’s within my sight. Is this the same predator that hunted my mate? This wood beast sitting on the ground eating berries.

  Growling, my position already given away, I stalk my way over. The wood beast acknowledges my presence with a fierce roar. I’m about to get my revenge when I see two smaller wood beasts. A pang of guilt spreads through me. I would never take a nursing parent away from younglings. It’s not right. I decide to search for another prey.

  Jane

  Everything is back to normal, well, relatively back to normal. I had to toss out several items unfortunately. A couple of picture frames, vases and cups. Nothing too serious. I’m not a particularly materialistic person, but this cottage has been in my family for a long time and seeing things that have been around for that long go makes me sad. Life moves on.

  I’m no longer upset about it, and Aykeetan helped me clean up. I nearly died of laughter when he was ‘dusting’. My grandmother would be rolling around in her grave right now if she had one, but everyone in my family had chosen cremation. I guess the idea of your ashes being scattered becoming part of the world is romantic in a way.

  Speaking of my grandmother, Aykeetan wants me to cook up more of my grandma’s famous stew.

  “I’M BACK,” AYKEETAN shouts from the doorway.

  Well that was quick! By the time I have the crock pot washed up and ready to go, he has already gone out and hunted a few rabbits.

  “Dammit Aykeetan, how are you so quick? You make me feel like a turtle around you!”

  He flashes me a sly grin.

  My father and grandfather used to hunt, so I’m familiar with game cuts. Thankfully he fully dressed them before bringing them inside.

  I prepare everything according to the recipe, just like the last time I made it, showing Aykeetan my side of knife skills. He watches as I slice and dice the veggies like it’s the most important task in the word. Ha. Males and food.

  “It’s going to take a few hours to cook.”

  I’ve been meaning to ask Aykeetan to model for me. I would love to paint him. He’s stunningly attractive and would look beautiful in a self-portrait. I would have done it on the ship, but I didn’t have access to my supplies. I nearly groan. I haven’t had a chance to use all my new art supplies yet. I only sampled some of them when I painted almost two weeks ago.

  “Do you mind if I...paint you?” I could hear the trepidation in my voice, I don’t know why I’m nervous.

  “Hmm, I’ve never modeled before, but I’d gladly do it for you,” he replies while watching the crock pot, as if his hunger alone can make it cook faster.

  “Great!”

  My fears were for nothing. Maybe it’s because we haven’t been as intimate since that one day, and he’s about to get nude in my home, again.

  I grab my new art supplies and have him come to the living room. Letting in all the natural light I possibly can, I rearrange the room just slightly so I can set up and get the setting just right.

  I’m so excited. Painting is like breathing for me. I just can’t live without it.

  I’m just going to tell him this quickly, so it’s not awkward or anything. Here goes.

  “I need you to disrobe.”

  He chokes. “You wish to mate, here? Before we go through our Kea’Vah? Jane, I wish to be with you, truly, but I simply cannot before we complete the Kea’Vah. It’s the will of the gods. The night on the ship is one thing, but mating is another matter entirely, please,” he begs.

  Oh, dear heaven. I think I’ve embarrassed him, and I was the nervous one. Sadly, he didn’t quite understand my request. I’m horrible, because for some reason, I find humor in this.

  “Um, OK. I didn’t mean to imply...that I wanted...to...uh mate,” I say, desperately concealing my laughter. “I need you to remove your vratike, because I wish to paint you nude. You will be covered...of course.”

  I hand him a thin, white blanket. The contrast between his skin tones will look lovely, but if he keeps his vratike on, it will show through and it will be hard to get the colors just right.

  “I would like you to lay down on your side, facing me like this.” I lie down on the couch and show him how to do it. Going over the angle for his face, arms, and how he should bend his left knee. “When you are on the couch in the right position, use the sheet to cover yourself and let me know when you are ready.” I turn away giving him privacy, struggling deeply to not look behind my back. He’s not my mate. Yet. And this is strictly professional.

  “I’m ready for you.”

  Oh god. Why did he have to say it like that? Turning around, I drink the sight of him in. The natural light reflecting of his skin, the beautiful tones of blue that glides over his musculature. He could give any wrestler a run for their money. His vratike doesn’t cover his chest, and while I’ve spent a lot of time around him, I don’t blatantly stare at him. But now I’m about to paint him, I can claim it’s for the art.

  I love the way his hazel eyes twinkle when he looks at me. I think back to the transformation he’s gone through. A kavesta he called it. I’m curious as to what he looked like before, I should ask him sometime. The thin, white sheet covers his erection which clearly is going to be an issue. I’ll have to paint my way around that.

  “Do you mind if I adjust this?” I ask, motioning to the sheet, not his erection.

  “You can adjust me all you like, Jane.” His voice is seductive and implies more than what he’s saying.

  I lick my lips at the implications of his words. We really need to discuss this mating business and Kea’Vah bond more.

  “Aykeetan, I’ve been meaning to ask you more about your mating rituals.” Taking the sheet, I adjust it to create the perfect wrinkles, and lines that would look stunning on paper. I have an artist’s eye as my mother used to say.

  “Well, mating is for life. When one of my people goes through the kavesta, we make blood sacrifices to our tavayks, which is called the gift. The plant also goes through the kavesta as well. We both become the form of our mate, receiving traits that they would appreciate and entice them. When we find our mates, we must place the gift in the ground and let it continue to blossom. Only when our mate finds the gift are we allowed to approach. It’s the first part of the Kea’Vah bonding ceremony.”

  I listen to him explain about his traditions and ceremonies while painting. “What about the process of the ceremony itself? What does that entail?”

  I want to know what I might be getting myself into because it’s crystal clear there is something between us. I’m considering going through with this bond, because I can’t deny my feelings for him and what he means to me, but I still need to know for sure. People don’t typically marry after the first week and a half, but we aren’t typically people.

  “When it’s time for the bonding ceremony to begin, we would kneel in front of the gift and you would take a ceremonial knife and sacrifice your blood. This allows the gift to become both of our essence.”

  “Sounds a little painful, but not too bad. Can you just tilt your head to the left a bit?”

  He moves his head a notch. It's not quite where I need him yet.

  “A little more, yeah like that. OK, so then what?” I ask while I continue with my work.

  “We would say our vows and then consume parts of the gift that are edible. In the case the gift is a flower so we would consume the petals. Then we would mate beneath the stars until our bodies no longer burn with need and our hearts are satiated with love.”

  Wow. It sounds romantic and crazy at the same time. I’m not sure how I feel about sacrificing blood and then eating an alien flower, but I guess Aykeetan already has given it his blood and he would be eating it along with me. Who am I to judge sacred ceremonies from another world? I'm sure there’s many aspects of our culture that would shock his people.

  Blending colors and using a variety of tools to create a pain
ting that’s realistic takes time. I probably won’t finish Aykeetan’s portrait any time soon. Suddenly, sadness overcomes me and my hand trembles, causing imperfections in my brush strokes. I think I want to go through with this Kea’Vah bonding ceremony with him, but then what?

  He doesn’t belong here on earth, and I don’t want to leave the cottage. I’ve been alone for a long time, too scared and vulnerable to have a relationship with anyone. I’ve never let anyone get this close to me before. Aykeetan’s the first.

  No, I tell myself. I need to take charge of my life and let go of the pain and heartache that has been gripping me since my parents first died. I need to let go of everything and live. I was given a second chance and I can’t waste it. I thought I was dying, but now I’m not. I thought I would never let anyone in, but now I have. I thought I could never have children because I was sick, but that isn’t true either. What do I have to lose? Nothing. And in return, I’ll gain a loving mate, a family and a better life. What more can I ask?

  “I want to do the Kea’Vah bonding ceremony.” The words blurt from my mouth, but they’re honest.

  I think I’ve stunned Aykeetan because he’s just gazing at me with his mouth wide open.

  “I want to do the Kea’Vah bonding ceremony,” I repeat, not leaving room for misunderstanding. “Tonight, at the beach.”

  I don’t know why I feel the urge to do it so quick, but it doesn’t matter. Somewhere deep inside me, this feels logical and the right thing to do. There’s no arguing because my mind and heart agree.

  He races off the couch, and the sheet that so neatly kept his erection from view, falls to the ground, exposing his glorious body to me, but I don’t want to look down. I want to see his eyes and what his heart is telling me. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his stomach then place my arms behind his shoulders.

  “Jane, Truly? I’ve dreamed of this minima before I even met you.” His eyes, watching me with wonder and hope, hanging onto my every word.