by Shea Malloy
And I want him too.
So why don’t I just give in? I should answer his question from earlier, clear the air and let bygones be bygones. Then put us both out of our misery and let all these years of restraint and resentment manifest into something worthwhile between us. After all, he’s my fated mate. A crazy, green-headed stranger with a proclivity for abduction said so.
My thoughts fade into the background as something else catches my attention. An ivory-coloured furry creature with pointed ears and a long, fuzzy tail scuttles along a tree branch.
“Oh look, a new terror to contend with,” I say, standing.
Garan follows my gaze as he gets to his feet. I’m on the defensive and Garan is too. He stretches his fingers and the blunt ends sharpen into talons. But the furry creature doesn’t seem to be a threat. It props itself up on its hind legs and eyeballs us for a few moments before it chirrups and continues on its way.
“The branches are not attacking it,” I muse out loud. “Maybe we should catch it.”
“For what?”
“We don’t have anything to eat later on.”
Garan chuckles. “Resist your murderous inclinations, Fry. It might feed us for one meal but if we spare its life it might lead us to a food source. Let’s follow it.”
9
Rosie
We follow Cotton—it’s what I’ve decided to call it since the wispy white fur on its body resembles its namesake—as it leaps and swings from branch to branch. Occasionally, it stops, glances back at us, and makes an adorable little chirrup as if to say, “Yeah, follow me! I’ll totally lead you to my secret stash!”
But, I don’t know. My trust in this alien planet is at an all time low. I won’t be surprised if Cotton actually leads us to a pit crawling with hungry, venomous lizards. The kind that populates the planet, Eloanat. As a matter of fact, Eloanat is a veritable jungle like this place, but it’s a resort destination. So at least it has people and modern infrastructure on its surface. Unlike here where it seems Garan and I are the only intelligent life forms in existence.
“It’s your fault if Cotton leads us into a trap, you know,” I say over my shoulder. We’re on a narrow path, walking in single file. Garan is behind me. “And, just so you know, I can feel your eyes on my ass, pervert.”
“Take it as a compliment,” he replies. “I wouldn’t be looking if it wasn’t worth my attention.”
“You must get a whole lot of sexual harassment complaints from your Lifeforms Resources department.”
“I don’t. I keep business separate from pleasure.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. I bet all the female beings fling themselves at the handsome and super rich Garan Dross if he looks their way.” I shake my hands in the air in an exaggerated manner mimicking women going boy crazy over Garan. “I also believe Garan Dross catches them willingly too. The GalNet says so, and the GalNet never lies.”
“I’m not surprised you believe the worst of me, Fry, but regardless, I do not bed my employees or business colleagues. My work is too important to sacrifice to the drama a relationship with coworkers invariably engenders.”
I fall silent. He sounds sincere and I am momentarily ashamed by my wrong assumptions. The path widens and he comes abreast of me.
“So, you aren’t dating anyone?” My face heats at the hopeful note in my voice, so I tack on, “Basically, you’re admitting you’ve been creating your best work under the duress of horniness.”
One corner of his mouth quirks up, his intelligent eyes alight with amusement.
“Rur dragons are faithful to their mates. I would not have kissed you if I were with another. Does that bring you relief, my little human?”
My face gets even hotter at the mention of our kiss. I shrug and avoid his gaze, pretending a deeper interest in Cotton’s movements.
“It would have if I cared. But I don’t, so it didn’t.”
Silence settles between us. The humidity in the jungle coats my skin with light sweat even though our walk is just a notch above leisurely. The subtle, minty scent follows us wherever we go, as well as the blue trees with branches that hate us.
“What about you?” Garan asks, giving me a sidelong glance. “Do you… fraternize with the clients who utilize your modification services?”
Surprised, I come to a stop.
“What?” How does he know about my super secret job as a spaceship modifier? Nobody knows my identity! Notwithstanding I’m unlicensed and would suffer imprisonment for years if my secret ever got out, my whole business model operates on my mysteriousness. I’ve taken great pains to keep it that way. Clearly I’ve not done enough if Garan knows who I am.
Garan stops too. He turns his gaze to the sky as if in consideration before he regards me again.
“Two years ago, the S210, the predecessor to the S215, was entered into the Interplanetary Racing Games. At the time, the S210 was touted as the best in the lineup. The winner was clear: the S210 under the expert captaining of Esser Vak, an Acapacean with four championship wins. But I’m sure you know how this story ends.”
“No, this is all new to me,” I lie. Of course I know how it ends. When Crant won, I was in my underwear shaking my ass at the holovision in triumphant euphoria.
Garan shakes his head. “Some rookie with an outdated ship model climbed the ranks and won the games. I bought his ship and inspected it. Amid all the powerful enhancements, I discovered your signature. The one you hid on your work assignments during school.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“Starlight.”
Damn.
I open my mouth, ready to argue the popularity of a name like ‘Starlight’ but it’s no use. Garan’s sharp gaze is honed on me. He’ll know I’m deflecting. There’s no getting out of this one.
Well, isn’t this just great. The man who stole my dream the first time holds the power to do it yet again.
“Great job, Detective Dross.” I step back from him, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “And since you know I’m unlicensed, then what is this? A threat?”
Garan frowns. “Why would I threaten you? It pains me to say it knowing your tendency to gloat, but I admire your work and think it’s remarkable.”
“Too remarkable for a human, right? And that’s why instead of stealing my work this time, you’ll just crush me.” My stomach is in knots, tightening by the second as the dread and anger courses through me. Half of me understands I’m overreacting, but the other half remembers the horror of witnessing all my hard work discredited and accounting for nothing.
“Rosalind, I’m tired of this.” His eyebrows draw together in anger. “Stop your accusations if you refuse to explain yourself. I have never stolen anything from you—”
“Yes, you did.” My heart is racing now. “A few weeks before our final examinations you saw my incomplete proposal by accident. You even commented on it, voicing your surprise that a ‘human could conceive such advanced ideas.’”
Shame flickers across his features before it disappears behind his persistent scowl.
“I may not have been kind to you and I deeply regret that, but it still doesn’t explain—” I see the moment when understanding dawns. “You believe I stole your proposal.”
“Believe?” I spit. “I know you did! An accepted proposal accounted for forty percent of a passing mark and acquiring a licence. But when I submitted mine, I was considered nothing but a dirty plagiarist and kicked from the program. Thanks to you, thief!”
We fall silent. I glare at him, all my outrage and righteous indignation threatening to overflow. In a way, I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. I’ve wanted to confront him and let him know I_ know how he’s acquired his ill-gotten wealth.
However it’s not as satisfying as I’d thought. Instead, I just feel bitter about the entire experience and more than a little disappointed in him. He was a brilliant student on his own. He didn’t need to screw me over for his own success.
“You are smarter than this, human,” he says. “Think_. In all the years we were in school, in the many moments we were tied for best or even when you claimed first place, have I ever treated you unfairly? Have I ever sabotaged you?” He steps closer, his features and his voice sincere. I struggle to harden myself against it all and hold firm to what I believe even if a tiny voice of doubt has started to speak up. “I did not steal your proposal, Fry. Thievery is not the Rur way. We take by conquering our opponent in a fair fight. I do not delight in a win if it wasn’t acquired by my own strength and intelligence.”
I purse my lips. “So if you didn’t steal it, who did? You’re the only one who saw it.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course, I’m…” but my voice trails off. I can’t finish that sentence because it would be a lie. Anjalie. My friend and partner during school. We’d given each other our proposals to proofread. We’d grown distant after I was kicked from the program and I’d assumed it was because of all the huge offers she’d received from engineering companies. A rising star like her didn’t need losers like me hanging around.
What if all this time I’ve been stubbornly, foolishly blaming Garan when the truth has been staring me right in the face?
“Mother’s Suns,” I say in shock. But Garan is no longer paying attention to me. He clamps his fingers around my upper arm and draws me close to him.
“We have company,” he says, his voice tight.
I look up and around us. In the time Garan and I have been in our own little world, we’ve acquired an audience. There’s no longer one Cotton but many. Hundreds? It’s hard to count them all when they laden the tree branches and are emerging from the bushes. Their beady black eyes glint with malevolence, their tails are puffy and pointed rigidly in the air, their ears are drawn back, and their paws extended into talons rivalling Garan’s.
It seems Garan and I are guests in these creatures’ territory and one thing is for certain: we’re uninvited.
10
Rosie
With hair-raising screeches, the Cottons aplenty fall on us. We run then halt abruptly at the mass of them scuttling toward us. They’re fast. Too fast. They’re blurs of white as they attack us with a vengeance. I cry out as they slash and bite at my legs, arms, and back. One even jumps on my shoulder and yanks on my hair.
Garan and I fend them off as best as we can. Snarling, Garan shifts into his dragon and I narrowly avoid being clipped by one of his wings. I’m bleeding but dazed by the powerful creature standing tall, mighty, and at a significant advantage to the mountain of Cottons. With one pump of his wings, the gust of air sends the Cottons flying back. I thank the stars I was already crouched on the floor and out of the way.
Garan incinerates the other persistent furry monsters. The caterwauling of the Cottons as they’re burnt alive is agony to my ears. Garan’s eyes are a vibrant vermilion, his ebony scales undulating with his movements, the ground shivers with every stomp of his clawed feet. While it’s riveting to watch a dragon breathe flames, it’s terrifying as fuck. The heat is so intense, I sweat as if I’ve been running non-stop. He knocks even more of the nasty creatures out of the way with a swipe of his tail, then reaches for me.
I go rigid in fear yet Garan’s vicious talons don’t hurt as they’re cinched around my waist. It’s the wounds inflicted by the Cottons that smart.
Garan lifts off the floor, forced to fly low as the blue trees come alive. I feel like a doll being carried by him as we escape the attack. I fight against the scream lodged in my throat as I dangle high above ground while my surroundings whizz by.
I’m relieved when we find the river again. Garan sets me down and shifts. It’s apparent we’ve been turned around because the surroundings in this part of the river is different than where we setup last night. For instance, our makeshift tent is gone and there’s now a high, mountainous section through which the river flows.
I’m gripped with residual anxiety as I survey our area for any threats.
“We’re safe, Rosalind. They didn’t follow us.”
I breathe a little easier at Garan’s reassuring tones.
“So much for trying to find food. We nearly found our deaths instead.”
“Then we will be more cautious and less distracted in our next attempt,” says Garan, following me as I wade into the river.
“Or we could starve. That’s probably safer.”
As we clean our injuries in the river, I muse on our experiences on this horrid planet. I want off this place so bad, it’s like a physical ache that’s worse than the stinging from my actual wounds. Using water to wash away the blood, I long for the assurances from a medipod that I’m not dying from poison or diseases inflicted by those furry white monsters.
My thoughts turn to my recent discovery, the years of misdirected blame at Garan, and how poorly I’ve behaved toward him because of it. It’s possible he’s lying but the more I think about it, the more clues appear pointing to Anjalie as the true culprit.
Garan might have seen my proposal, but it was not finished at the time. However, Anjalie had a copy of the whole thing. From past experiences with her greedy mindset and light-fingered ways, not to mention the abrupt way she ended our friendship so soon after I got kicked from the program, the possibility is too high to ignore.
I’m an idiot. Garan was right. We’ve always been rivals, but I’ve never suspected him of dishonourable intent during school. I guess when I lost my chance at getting my licence, I lost a bit of my sanity too.
Despite how I’ve treated him, he’s twice saved my life. My face grows warm with shame. I glance at Garan beside me.
“Thanks for saving me,” I say quietly. “Again.”
“Hm.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I thought I didn’t deserve Nice Rosie.”
“I’m not being nice, I’m being grateful.” Silence. Then: “Also, I’m sorry for calling you a thief.” The words come out rushed and jumbled. But the triumph on his face is proof he heard it all.
He cups water with his hands and splashes his face. Droplets of water cling to his horns. Wiping away the extra moisture from his eyes, he aims a sexy, suggestive smile at me.
“Maybe someday, some way, you’ll make it up to me?”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
Nevertheless, my gaze caresses his broad shoulders and thick arms much the way my hands long to do. My eyes widen. Garan took the brunt of the attack protecting me and it had been obvious from the deep gouges in his flesh. Now all that exists on his bronze skin are droplets of water sluicing downward and light scars fading by the second.
“Does the water have healing powers?” I gape between him and the various angry red slashes marring my skin. “If so, it’s not working on me.”
“My blood has regenerative properties,” he says. “I heal quickly, even from severe injuries.”
“Huh.” I stare at his muscular chest with a little too much interest then lift my gaze. “So, you can’t die?”
“I won’t survive a beheading or a stab to my vital organs.” The corners of his mouth quirk up in dark amusement. “But my kind can live for hundreds of years naturally.”
“Then how would it work out for us?” I bite my lips together. “In theory, and providing Leeka wasn’t missing a few bolts in her head and this whole fated mates thing between us was true. Which it isn’t.” I stress the last sentence more than I need to. “A human’s average life expectancy is about seventy years. I’ll be dead a long time before you finally croaked.”
“I can share my regenerative abilities with you through intercourse. It’s a common practise if a Rur being mates outside their species.”
“You would have to fuck me so I could live longer?” It’s basically what he just said, but some deviant part of me wanted to repeat it. Or maybe it’s the way his gaze is so f
ixed on me, it’s making me babble.
“Yes, Rosie, I would have to fuck you. As often as I could. I would have to come inside you too as the healing properties are in my seed.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Actually, I’m incapable of speaking at all. Between his sexy voice wrapped around my nickname and my head filled with dirty hot images of us fucking, my thought processes are shot.
It’s my own fault. I was being Nosy Rosie again. I asked questions and he gave the explicit answers.
“Well… uh… thanks for enlightening me.”
Face aflame, I return my attention to the cuts on my body.
11
Rosie
The day progresses. During that time, we fail to locate our first tent, so we build a new shelter. My cuts sting with my movements, growing more painful as the day darkens. My only reprieve is when I dip my body in the river. The cuts are even on my ass! So I’m forced to lie awkwardly on my unaffected left arm.
“You’ll stay here while I look for something for us to eat,” Garan says.
I wince as I struggle to sit up. I have to lean most of my weight on my palm and hip.
“No way. I’m not staying here by myself.” I glare at him.
His forehead creases in a frown of concern.
“You can barely sit, let alone walk, Rosalind.”
“The fear of being eaten alive by some new monster will give me strength. I’m coming with you.”
“You will stay and rest. I’ll search for medicinal herbs for your cuts.” He gets to his feet and… yep… I’m at eye-level with his dick. Just as I feared, my eyes are riveted to that beast between his legs. In all this running around naked like some modern day Adam and Eve from Old Earth, why the fuck haven’t we thought of making ourselves clothes?
He stalks away and it takes my brain a few extra seconds to catch up to the present.
“Garan, you asshole, don’t leave me here alone!”
I know he heard me but he keeps walking anyway. I scowl at his retreating back and grabbable ass and try to imagine violent things happening to him. I can’t. It’s unbelievable but I’m not just worried about being alone by myself, I’m worried about him too. So far he’s been more than capable of fighting whatever this jungle throws at us, but what if there’s something bigger and badder than a fire-breathing dragon lurking in this place?
