Gail's Family: A SciFi Alien Romance Novella: Icehome Book 4
Page 2
But my first time with Vaza…that was different. When he laid me down in the furs the first time and the look on his face was downright reverent, that made me feel special. And when he put his mouth between my legs and ate pussy like it was going out of style? Well, that made me feel pretty damn special, too. It had been a long damn time since someone had licked me like that, and I admit it won him major brownie points.
The spur helped, too.
Most of all, though, it was how he held me afterward. He just held me close and stroked my skin and thanked me for sharing my body with him. He confessed how lonely he’d been until he saw me, and now he felt like he had hope again.
Somewhere in there, the brick of ice that was my heart thawed a little. And every day with Vaza, it thawed a little more. The man was like a puppy, just enthusiastic and so damn eager to please. He’d bring me small gifts because he was thinking about me—a bead necklace, or some pretty colored seeds. If I mentioned I liked eggs, he’d climb the cliffs all day until he got a dozen of them for me. If I said my foot hurt, he’d rub it for hours and take care of me like I was a princess.
And Vaza liked to talk. After my ex, Shaun, this was new. Shaun didn’t like to talk about feelings. He thought it was a man’s job to be stoic and silent. Even after we lost Calvin, he never shared how he was feeling. When we went to the grief counselor, he’d just stare mutinously at the wall, his hands folded, and said his thoughts were private. It used to drive me crazy, and then after a while, I got just as silent as him.
Vaza, though, the man has never met a story he didn’t like. He talks to me all the time. He tells me about his first mate, Vika, and their son Azak, both of whom are dead. Vika was his mate for many years, but they only had the one son survive. Azak grew to be an adult and fathered a child himself, but both he and the kit (and Vika) died in the khui sickness some time ago. Vaza does what he can to help out with the tribe, but he’s been lonely for some time. He, too, feels between things. The other elders are either ancient as hell—like Vadren and old Drenol—or they have families around them, still. He knew he wouldn’t resonate when the women arrived, but it didn’t mean he didn’t try.
Bless his horny little heart. I don’t blame the man for trying to get his dick wet. I think he wants a companion more than he wants a bedmate. Because we have sex (and boy do we), but mostly Vaza loves to talk to me. He loves to share his day and dote on me. He loves having a family again, even if it’s just me and him.
I get it. In a sense, Vaza’s just like me. We might come from planets a billion miles apart and we’re not even close to the same species, but I recognize his loneliness.
Somewhere along the way, though, we just sort of fell in love. It’s not one of those great, epic love stories where people clash and fall passionately in bed together. We started out with mutual understanding, bonded with some great sex, and we like each other. He’s great company, easy on the eyes, and he makes me smile. A woman can’t ask for more.
The moment I heard there was an orphaned baby? Vaza met my eyes and nodded. We’re so similar in thought that nothing more needs to be said. Of course we’ll go and adopt him. Or her. I think it’s a him, but I don’t even care. I just want a little one to make our family whole again. And I know Vaza’s soul. He loves me, but he also loved being a father. He’s lost so much in his life and still has so much heart to give.
So here we are.
I blink into the cold air, smiling absently at Vaza. The man’s a distraction, but in all the good ways.
As if he senses that my thoughts are full of him, Vaza picks up a rolled bundle at his feet, shakes it out, and then heads to my side. It takes about two seconds before I realize that it's a cloak, and it's for me. "You will not be warm enough, my beauty," he tells me with a flirty smile as he tugs it over my shoulders. "I must protect my female from the elements. Your soft skin will dry out, and when you caress me, it will be like touching Vadren's crusty old feet."
"You had a lot of experience with Vadren's crusty feet?" I ask coyly. Heaven help me, but the man brings out the flirty side in me. I grin at him and let him bundle me up with care, because after years of being a mom and then an estranged ex-wife (and then slave) it's nice to have someone fuss over me for a change.
He tucks the cloak under my chin and then winks at me, a human trait he's picked up quickly. He tilts his head, gesturing at a cluster of people off to the side. "Air-ee-yawn-uh has brought the kits to say goodbye to Miss Shail."
Oh? I've been so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize. For the last few months, I've been helping Ariana wrangle the children into something like a school, though we haven't really gotten far past letters and numbers. Now I'm leaving her and she's going to be stuck watching them alone. Ariana's sweet, but a bit high-strung at times, and I worry she won't be able to handle it, especially with her new baby. But there are so many moms in the village that surely she'll get help…
I bite my lip and look at my handsome hunter. "Are we doing the right thing, Vaza?"
"The right thing?"
"There are so many reasons to stay here," I admit, smoothing the front of his cloak so my fingers have something to do. I find a loose knot made of leather ties and absently re-tie it for him. "There won't be real houses on the beach like there are here. No toilets. We'll be starting over. Ariana needs help with the older kids. Elly needs me. Summer and Kate are still new to the tribe and—"
He snags my fingers in his big, warm hand. "I will do whatever you like."
"You're not helping, you big lug." I start to re-tie another knot, even though it doesn't need it.
Vaza chuckles. "Because I wish for you to be happy. We think very similarly and I know how your mind works. Right now, your girls are distressed and so you worry you are disappointing them. Do you wish to stay, then?"
My heart hurts because I feel selfish, even as I speak the truth. "No. I want to go and be that baby's mother."
"And my heart would sing with great joy to have a son or daughter once more. My joy has been overwhelming since you came into my life." He takes my hand in his again and presses it to his chest, under his fur cloak, and my cold knuckles meet warm plating. "It does not matter that this does not sing with resonance. My heart is alive again, and if its song is silent, I do not mind. It sings here," he tells me, and points at his head. "That is all I need."
"You big romantic," I tell him, secretly pleased. "I want this. I want this so much. It's just…hard to say goodbye."
"It is not goodbye forever," he corrects me gently, releasing my hand after giving it a quick kiss on the fingertips. "It is a pause between heartbeats, no more. The snows will ease and we will visit. Hunters will come and visit us. We will come back at some point. We are not leaving home. Home is here."
And he straightens my cloak, emphasizing that I'm his home.
How on earth did this big sexy man stay single all this time? Lord, the women would scoop him up back on Earth. I feel so damn lucky. Of all the women that have been stolen away from Earth, I ended up here with him. I get to have a second chance at love and a family.
Nothing beats that. Nothing.
I tilt my head up and he leans in and kisses me in the smacking, obvious way he does. Vaza is still not a fantastic kisser, even after months of practice. He does other great things with his mouth, though, so I don't mind. It's kind of charming in a way and reminds me that he's not perfect despite his outwardly gorgeous exterior. Plus, teaching him's fun. I swat his ass as I walk away and love that he chuckles, his tail flicking in response.
Then I cry, a lot, because it's time to kiss and hug each waiting child who’s come out to see “Miss Gail” go leave. Ariana, bless her sweet heart, brought them all out to say goodbye and it's a thoughtful gesture that leaves me weeping. I love these children and their precious little faces. I love each sticky smile and grubby-fingered hand that reaches for me. The mamas are here, too, and I make sure to whisper to the ones without infants in their arms that Ariana will need
help from time to time. I'm sure it's already in the works, but I've been a mama too long to not steer people with a few words here and there. And then I've said goodbye to everyone too quickly, and Vaza and Georgie, Vektal's mate, are putting mittens on the hands of Raashel, Aayla and Rukhar, the children that will be flying dragon-back with us to the other tribe so they can stay with their parents. Little Aayla gives me a cheery smile, Raashel looks ready to pout, and Rukhar is so somber that I go to his side and ruffle his soft hair. "You ready to see your mama and daddy again, little man?"
He nods at me. "My bag is packed."
"Good for you. I'm proud." I beam at him. "I bet your parents will be so excited. I know I'm ready to see everyone."
Rukhar just watches me, and in the distance, the dragon grunts and ruffles his wings like an enormous bird. As I watch, Rukhar steps closer to me, clearly unnerved.
I extend my hand. "You want to ride with Miss Gail on the trip over?" I ask him, smiling. Since there are three children, we're not comfortable letting them sit alone on the journey, not considering that each “seat” on our ride is little more than a person-sized basket with high edges. Vaza will take one child, I'll take one, and Sessah will be taking one. The gangly hunter—newly considered a man as of last brutal season—will be coming with us. I look over and even now, he's being hugged and coddled by his mother Sevvah. He squirms just like any little boy, though, and the expression on his face is that of someone who tolerates but can't wait to escape.
"Yes, please," Rukhar says, so polite, and I squeeze the small hand that slips into mine.
Then there's really no more goodbyes to do. I glance around at the sea of smiling faces, ready to see us off. Some have sent gifts and small presents for family currently with the beach tribe. Others have offered supplies, and everyone is hugging and talking even though we've all said our goodbyes already. Off by her dragon, Veronica is bundled up and stroking Ashtar's enormous golden nose. I try not to stare—it's still hard for me to think that we're riding on a dragon across the mountains and to the beach. Hard for me to think that the cocky, prone-to-nudity golden man turns into this massive creature. But he's got his saddle on and Sessah gives his mother one last hug, and then Vaza looks at me.
"Time to go," I tell Rukhar. "Tonight, you'll be with your mama and daddy."
He smiles up at me and then points off to my side.
I turn…and my heart catches in my throat.
There's my Elly. Her hair is slightly disheveled, her eyes red with tears. Bek is at her side, his hands on her shoulders, and even now I can see she's trembling.
"Oh, Rukhar, baby, give me a moment," I tell the little boy, and then I move to Elly's side as if drawn.
She sniffs hard as I approach, and tears streak down her throat. There's no wind to turn them to ice, but her breath puffs in front of her and she gulps hard, as if she's trying not to lose it. She just stares at me, her heart in her eyes.
And I'm so, so torn.
Of all my girls, Elly's the special one, the fragile one, the one that is strong in all the right ways and weak in all the ones that tear your heart out. It's obvious that she's been ill-used in her past, and she's been a slave for so long that she prefers dirt to human touches. She says nothing as I approach her, but that doesn't surprise me. Elly's always silent, rarely speaking more than a handful of words, ever. I know Bek loves and adores her and I know he's good for her. I know that at his side, she's taking steps towards breaking out of her shell. I worry I'm going to set her back, that losing a stable influence in her life will hurt her and she'll go back to not bathing and shrinking away from the world. I give her a worried smile, trying not to cry. "You came to see me off," I say, trying to sound cheerful even though my heart is breaking all over again.
To my surprise, she reaches out and enfolds me in her skinny arms, hugging me tight.
I hold her close, touching her hair and soothing her as she weeps in my arms, like her mother would have done. "I love you, baby girl," I tell her softly. "You're strong. You've got this."
"I know," she whispers, and to my surprise, she pulls back and smiles hesitantly at me. "I'm…happy for you."
Oh, my heart. I want to hug her again, and again, but I know she won't like that. Already she's pulling away from me and shrinking back against protective Bek, but the smile remains on her face, despite her tears.
A hand lands on my shoulder. "Are you all right?" Vaza asks, solid and sure at my side.
I swipe at my eyes. Damn it, I'm crying, too. But I smile at Elly and turn to look where little Rukhar is waiting, so somber and patient, ready to go to his parents. I think of the orphaned baby on the beach and my arms ache with how empty they are. "I'm ready," I tell Vaza.
And I am. I love this place and these people, but I want to hold a child in my arms again. Not just any child.
My child.
2
GAIL
The flight on dragon-back isn't what I'd call fun. In fact, I'd call it the opposite of fun. There are no seatbelts, so every time the dragon dips or shifts his wings, I feel as if we're about to tumble from the sky. Up high in the clouds it's bitterly cold and no amount of furs can keep the wind out. My face feels chafed by ice after a short period of time, and I worry how the children are handling it. I keep Rukhar occupied by playing I Spy, which is new and exciting to him.
Luckily Veronica has Ashtar land several times during the long journey so we can stretch our legs, make a hasty retreat to the nearest bush for a bathroom break, and re-bundle our furs. I fuss over the children, making sure they're wrapped up even though they feel the cold less than I do, being half sa-khui. They squirm and groan every time I tuck their tunics in and tighten the cords on mittens, and do their best to endure my mothering.
I mother Sessah, too, just because I know his mama Sevvah and I know she'd want that. He endures it with a patient expression and doesn't complain, and that makes me like him just a bit more.
Veronica pulls off her gloves and cups my face, healing the worst of the winter chapping with a quick touch, and then we pile back into our seats again, ready for another round of dragon riding. I marvel at the dragon—Ashtar, I have to think of him as Ashtar and a person—and his massive scales, his delicate, arching wings that are as big as sails on a boat, and the enormous head that nuzzles Veronica non-stop every time we take a break.
The day seems endless, and Rukhar dozes in my arms in the afternoon. I look over at Vaza, across the dragon's neck and shoulder blades, and see that little Aayla is asleep in his arms, drooling on his cloak. I can't turn around and see Sessah and Raashel, but occasionally I hear her chirpy little voice and I suspect she's talking his ear off. Poor patient boy. He's enduring this because of all the pretty young things at the beach. My mama didn't raise no fool, and he's as transparent as glass in his intentions. Every time we've stopped, he's asked Veronica about her friends.
Then Veronica calls out something that's nearly ripped away on the wind. "We're close," she says a second time, louder than the first, and I lean forward, my butt asleep from the bag of supplies I've been sitting on. Sure enough, the endless snow and mountains break up ahead to a vast, bottle-green ocean in the distance. Oh. I'm surprised at how beautiful it is, and a little worried about the column of distant smoke on the edge of the horizon. The island that blew up from the volcano, I remember, where the island tribes used to live. Somehow I didn't think it'd still be smoking, but it is.
Rukhar points, and then Ashtar wheels around in the sky, and I see tiny plumes of smoke in the air. It takes me a moment longer to realize that the dark strip of land at the edge of the water is the beach, because I remember golden sands and blue water, but I'm still thinking like Earth. I shouldn't be. Everything here is its own creature, as well I know. I touch a mitten over my chest, thinking of the khui that's inside me even now, keeping my body healthy. Up ahead, the thick rock of the mountains seems to slice away, and I see squiggling lines that turn into canyons, and then I see the cluster of tents dot
ting the edges of the canyon walls. Things move and someone raises a spear into the air in greeting.
People.
My heart flutters with excitement. I lean in close to Rukhar's small body. "Almost there," I tell him. "You'll see Mama and Daddy soon."
He doesn't say anything, but I can feel him wiggle with excitement in my lap, and I smile.
Ashtar continues to glide slowly, slowly down to the beach, circling what feels like a hundred times before he arches his wings and gently thumps onto the sand a fair distance away from the village itself. The basket shakes and I make a sound of distress as the entire thing shifts.
"It's okay," Veronica says. "Landings always suck." She reaches out and caresses the dragon's scaly neck, a sweet smile on her face. "You did awesome, babe. So proud of you."
I glance over at the dragon's big, car-sized head, but if he responds, I don't hear it. The baskets shift again, and then Vaza is onto the sand, his feet crunching as he helps Aayla down. In the distance, I see people heading towards us in clusters of two and three. They're too far away for me to recognize faces, but I see a flash of pink hair and can't stop smiling. That'll be Brooke, one of my girls. I can't wait to see her.
Then Vaza's at the side of my basket and I hand him Rukhar before taking his hand and letting him help me down from my seat.
"Papa!" Rukhar bellows before I can even step onto the sand. I watch as his little figure races away to the group, launching himself into the arms of a big man standing in the back. Happy tears come to my eyes as Vaza puts his hands on my waist to steady me and I catch a glimpse of Rukhar being lifted into the air and hugged.
Families are coming together today. This is wonderful.
"How are you feeling, my beauty?" Vaza asks. "Tired?"
"Strangely enough, no." I beam at him and then look curiously at the people approaching. Is one of them bringing my baby? Or is he back at the village? "I'm not tired at all." I'm ready to see my child.