by Hope Hart
He shrugs one arm out and then the other, and thankfully, none of the other cuts open up. I maneuver the shirt over his head and meet his eyes.
His expression is smug and I freeze.
“You bastard.”
He suckered me. Just like he did with Ocaz. And I fell for it. I move to step back, but his arms come around me.
My heart leaps into my throat, but his expression is gentle and he waits patiently while I pull myself together.
“My parents were mated,” he informs me, and I want to slap the smirk off his face.
“Kiss me, Peyton. Just one kiss to get me through the long hours alone without you.”
Jeez, when he says it like that I sound like the ultimate bitch. He seems to read my thoughts because he smiles up at me, suddenly looking so innocent and boyish that it seems impossible to believe he just kicked another Arcav’s ass.
Then his hands tighten slightly on me and before I know it, I’m stroking his hard chest.
Wow, the guy is built. All Arcav are, of course, but Vazta is all smooth skin and corded muscle.
He grins up at me and for once, I ignore the little warning voice in the back of my head that tells me this is a bad idea. When I’m alone with Vazta, I’m not focused on all the steps I need to take to get my life back. I’m just focused on him.
I lean forward before I can change my mind, and his eyes darken. He doesn’t wait for me to kiss him, but leans forward, one large hand coming up to cup my face as he takes my mouth.
He’s gentle, brushing his lips against mine once, twice, and once more, waiting until I sigh against his lips before he presses harder.
Then he pulls back, leaving me desperate for more. I lean into him, and he chuckles against my lips, nipping slightly at my bottom lip before his tongue slides out to soothe it.
I open my mouth to tell him to stop playing with me and kiss me properly, and he takes full advantage, sliding his tongue into my mouth where it strokes against mine.
I go damp.
Vazta growls against me and I feel my cheeks heat as he pulls away.
“It pleases me that you want me back, little female.”
I raise a trembling hand to my lips as he moves away. I feel dazed, like my skin is too tight for my body. Kissing him feels like an ice-cold glass of water after hours in the sun. It’s like holding my hands up to a fire on a chilly night. Like stabilizing a patient who had crashed with no warning.
How did I go this long without kissing him?
I peer up into his face. Is the look in his eyes the same kind of bafflement I’m feeling? How did I just have the best kiss of my life with an Arcav who seems to be constantly scaring the crap out of me or driving me to furious outrage?
And when can we do that again?
I back away shocked at my thoughts. What the hell is happening to me?
“You are upset,” he says, eyes studying me. And for a moment it seems as if he can see into my soul. I step back further, eyes darting toward the door and his face hardens.
“You said you would wait, my female.”
I swallow and he narrows his eyes impatiently. He points toward the chair and watches me as I move toward it uncertainly.
He steps toward me and I hasten my steps, even as he lets out a curse.
“I will not touch you if you do not want me to,” he growls. “Have I not proved this by now?”
I blink back tears. Of course he has. And I realize what I’m doing, of course. Every time I show my fear, he assumes that I’m doubting his honor, which is everything to an Arcav.
He curses again at my silence, but I can’t speak around the lump in my throat.
“You make me feel like I’m a monster,” he bites out, and I turn away as a tear slips down my face.
He sighs and steps closer, slowly, giving me a chance to pull away. Then he drops to his knees in front of me.
I clear my throat, but my voice is tight as I wipe away another tear.
“Do you not want to hang out with me today now?”
I haven’t admitted it, even to myself, but I enjoy spending time with Vazta. In my mind, I try to think of our weekly dates as an appointment, like going to the dentist. But I find myself counting down the sleeps until it’s time to see him and pacing the room while I wait for him to appear.
He smiles, but it’s not the same open smile he usually gives me. This one seems… tired.
Good. It’s a good thing if he’s tired of you, I tell myself. You’re not sticking around anyway.
Strangely, that thought doesn’t make me any happier.
“I will always want to spend time with you, Peyton,” he tells me seriously. “When I am not with you, I am counting down the moments until you will let me see you again.”
I nod, suddenly too choked up to speak. He simply gets to his feet and strolls toward the bathing chamber, the muscles in his back rolling with each movement.
He reaches for the magnetic buckle on his pants and I can’t help it. I watch.
I’m no longer on the verge of tears as he strips off his pants, revealing an incredibly toned, biteable ass. My eyes are hungrily eating up every inch of him as he kicks his pants away and moves toward the bathing chamber. He steps inside and I get a full-frontal view.
He’s long, hard, and mouthwatering. I’ve seen a few dicks in my time, but none that have me instantly wet. I’m stunned by my urge to drop to my knees and caress his length.
Get your eyes off his dick, girl.
I pull my eyes away and let them travel up his eight-pack, all the way past the claw marks on his throat to his very amused eyes.
Great, he knows I was checking him out. And that I really, really like what I see.
My eyes dart away and I try to ignore his amused huff. The bathing chamber begins to steam up, and his body briefly disappears for a moment. I frown and then realize I lasted about two seconds in my attempt to not stare at his naked body.
I turn my whole body this time, focusing on the door. Just a few moments later, the steam clears, but I refuse to turn around, even when a deep sigh leaves Vazta’s chest.
I hear him pulling on his clothes, but manage to not turn around.
“Did you plan for me to have to see you naked?” I ask him, still staring at the wall.
“No,” he says, his voice smug. “But I cannot deny that it pleases me that my female finds my body acceptable.”
Acceptable. That’s putting it lightly.
Chapter Seven
Vazta
My female wants me.
Our kiss was more than I could have imagined, and nothing like kissing the human female who taught me this skill. Peyton’s mouth was warm and willing, her tiny tongue stroking against me, making me wonder what it would feel like on my cock.
I blow out a breath and attempt to get myself under control. She is still staring at the door, her shoulders tense, and part of me feels shame for pushing her this far.
A larger part howls at me to push her until she submits, until she realizes that I am the male for her.
I think of her small voice as she asked if I still wanted to spend time with her and I frown as I pull my shirt over my head. She doesn’t seem to understand that spending time with her is all I want to do from now until they bury me in a warrior’s grave.
I would give anything to feel her mouth on me again, her small hands stroking my chest as she lets out the tiniest moan.
Patience.
I take another moment and then pick up my clothes, dropping them in the auto-wash. They will be repaired, cleaned, and returned to my locker.
Then I step forward and touch Peyton’s shoulder, attempting to ignore how her body tenses.
“I am ready,” I say, and she jumps off her chair, opening the door.
“Where are we going?” she asks as we walk out of the training center and get into my pod. This time, her fear does not scent the air, and I almost grin in triumph.
“I thought I would show you my garden,” I tell her
.
She’s silent and I turn, meeting her eyes.
“Is that a sex thing? Like come home with me and I’ll show you my garden?”
I blink, and suddenly all I can think of is Peyton, naked in my garden, her body warm and willing under mine.
“No,” I nearly choke out. “That is not it at all. I believe you will enjoy the vast gardens surrounding my home. If you do not, we will leave immediately.”
She gives me a tiny smile.
“Okay.”
We’re silent as I navigate the pod, Peyton seemingly deep in thought. She is not a big talker, my female. I have seen her speaking to others, but often she is the one listening, her eyes flicking this way and that as she scans her surroundings.
One day, I will teach her that her safety is my responsibility. For now, I am content to be close to her, even if she is far away in her thoughts.
Once we arrive, she allows me to lead her behind my home and into the gardens. I will not ask her to see my home yet, but one day, I hope she will allow me to show her the vast, comfortable space, the rooms waiting for her presence.
I watch Peyton’s mouth fall open as she stares at the garden and my shoulders straighten with pride. I have always enjoyed working outside, and have managed every inch of the huge space myself.
“Wow,” she says. “This is gorgeous.”
I smile, obscenely pleased that she likes it.
“Would you like a tour?”
She nods, and I lead her along cobbled paths, stopping every few steps as she admires a bright flower or points to a colorful plant. I know from my trips to Earth that while many of our plants are similar, there are also some that are very different, such as the flower Peyton is sniffing right now.
“That can’t be right,” she says, leaning closer. She shoves her nose even closer, the petals touching her face as she closes her eyes and inhales.
“It smells like cookies!” she exclaims.
I laugh and she sends me a curious look.
“The Disilfao flower smells different to everyone.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen further, seemingly taking up half of her face, and I long to press a kiss to her lips. Instead, I take a step closer as I nod.
“I smell the perfume my mother’s cook wore each day when she would give me dinner while my parents were away. I’ve heard Aulan say that the flower smells like the scent of a woman’s cunt when she is needy for her male.” Peyton blushes at this and I laugh. “Harlow once said the smell reminded her of something she called popcorn.”
“Wow,” Peyton says. “A flower that smells different to everyone. That’s incredible.”
We continue walking, until Peyton stops at the large pond, surrounded by flowers.
“This is gorgeous,” she says, and my shoulders straighten. I want her to love this place as much as I do. She seems to notice my pride and raises an eyebrow.
“Did you work on this?”
I smile, taking in the wide expanse of space, the pond I dug, the trees I planted.
“Yes. I enjoy the outdoors. When I purchased this property, none of this was here. It was simply made up of large, grass fields.”
Her mouth drops open.
“When did you purchase it?”
“Forty years ago.”
She nods her head. “I forget that the Arcav live so much longer than us.”
I grit my teeth at that thought. According to Brin, none of the human females rescued from Ciphi have been given the Alni plant, which makes my people so resistant to disease and heals us so quickly from injury. As Ruby had explained when Brin gently asked her, all of them planned to return to Earth, so the females did not feel it was appropriate.
This is a topic I will be broaching with my female. Soon.
For the moment, I breathe in the clean, sweet air and enjoy the look of peace on Peyton’s face. I lead her to a spot under a tree with a view of the pond.
To my surprise, she relaxes, lying down, scooting back until her face is in the shade but the rest of her is in the sun. She’s wearing another dress today, this one shorter than the last, and she hums as she stretches her legs out in the sun, reminding me of Harlow’s feline Tom, who spends hours in a similar position.
“I used to dream of this,” Peyton murmurs suddenly, her eyes still closed. “When we were locked up, I’d dream I was lying outside in a quiet garden somewhere safe.”
“I can give that to you,” I tell her. “All of this is yours.”
She smiles sadly but doesn’t open her eyes.
I let it go, lying next to her.
“I would take your pain if I could,” I say and she cracks open her eyes, gifting me with a sweet smile.
“I know you would. You’re a good guy, Vazta.”
Her tone is sad and I shift closer, reaching out to play with her hair. She allows it, and I watch in fascination as I stretch one of her blonde ringlets, watching as I let it go and it shifts back into place.
“Arcav do not have hair such as yours,” I say, stroking it in fascination. It feels softer than I could have imagined. I wonder if our younglings would have this hair, and the thought makes me smile.
Peyton closes her eyes again. “Yes,” she says, and her voice is sad. “We are very, very different.”
“Not so different, my female. Soon you will learn that we are the same where it counts.”
She remains silent at that declaration, but the hint of a smile dances around her lips and I stare, wanting nothing more than to take those lips once more.
Patience.
“What is so good about Earth?” I say, attempting to keep my voice bland.
Peyton opens her eyes again. “My career, for one. My job will have been filled soon after I disappear, but I can find another one.”
“This career is so important to you?”
Her eyes narrow and then widen in surprise.
“This isn’t just any job, Vazta. I studied for years to get where I am. My whole life, I wanted nothing more than to be a surgeon. My father, my mother, both of them are surgeons too. I didn’t go to prom, didn’t do any of the normal kid stuff. I flew through high school and college, and those years were nothing but studying.”
I look at her, feeling respect rise.
“You were determined to meet your goal.”
She smiles. “I was. And I made it. Through college, medical school, my residency, and my fellowship. I’m insanely young to have gotten where I was, and I worked my ass off.”
It is starting to make sense, my female’s need to return to Earth. And yet the thought of her leaving me is like someone is ripping my guts out of my body.
Peyton closes her eyes once more, stretching in the sun.
“I feel… naked without a scalpel in my hand. The Grivath stole that from me, and Udan stole everything else.”
“Will you tell me what happened on Cilphi?”
She is silent for a long moment— long enough that I don’t think she will reply. Finally, she shifts with a sigh.
“Udan had plenty of concubines and slaves, many of them more than willing to visit his quarters in exchange for a clean place to sleep and a guarantee that they wouldn’t be given to a gladiator after a big win. At least not until he tired of them.”
“He knew how to break people’s spirit.”
“Yeah. For whatever reason, he’d decided he wanted me— he’d never had a human before. At first, he’d considered us little more than weak animals, but I’d made the mistake of sticking up for my friends, drawing his attention in the worst way.”
Her voice is pained and my horns straighten.
“Did he… touch you?”
Her lips thin. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
I reach for her hand and she allows it, falling into a gentle doze in my garden.
Peyton
You know what happens when you spend too much time with your mate?
You wake up with black mating bands around your wrists. I’m not quite sure how to f
eel about them. The more time I spend with Vazta, the more time I want to spend with him. And there’s no doubt that he’ll see these bands as proof that I’m accepting his claim.
I frown, fiddling with the sleeve of my shirt. I guess it’s long sleeves for me until I figure out what I’m going to do about Vazta.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
I’m currently hanging out with Jessica, brooding while her knitting needles click beside me. She seems remarkably calm but I’m not fooled. Spend enough months as close together as we were, and you’ll spot tension a mile away.
Her hands are flying as she knits yet another sweater. According to Bree, they’re bringing in more wool from Earth, since knitted sweaters aren’t exactly something you see a lot of on Arcavia.
My day with Vazta was… nice. Not for the first time, I wished he was human. I napped in his garden, feeling safe with him so near, and then he disappeared into his house, bringing out a plate of snacks.
I’d raised my eyebrow. “Did you make this?” I’d asked, and he laughed.
“No, little female. While I wish I could claim credit, I have a cook.”
The snacks were a mixture of Arcav and human food, and he made sure to also bring out the sweet tea he knows I like.
I settle deeper into the gel sofa as I think about our conversation. Vazta reminded me how much I miss being a surgeon. I need to stop allowing him so close. It’s just going to be that much harder when I leave.
We all look up at a knock on the door, Shauna’s in the shower, but Ruby’s eyes widen as she looks at me.
I get up and open the door, expecting Vazta. But it’s Harlow, her newborn daughter cradled in her arms.
“Hi guys, just thought I’d pop in and see how you’re going.”
“Ooh” Jessica exclaims, putting her knitting aside. She holds up her arms and Harlow steps forward, gently lowering the bundle, who lets out a squeak.
“This is Zera,” she says, and Jessica gasps over her tiny horns.
Harlow takes a seat next to me and Jessica gives me a look.
“Uh, thanks for the Christmas stuff,” I say awkwardly. “We really appreciated it.”
