by V. K. Ludwig
Perhaps not smart, but meaningful.
Back, thighs, underarms. All viable options with lots of skin left. I chose my hands instead, as a symbol of the hard work Lilly and I completed together, achieved by muscle, sweat, and teamwork.
“Whatever pleases her,” I say more to myself than him, damp palms slipping on the leather armrest.
Lilly has been tense ever since Steph’s birthday, so I figured I should get my new kuchi done quickly. A proof of my devotion to her, and the life she’s offering me on the farm. Father wouldn’t believe his eyes if he saw how hard Lilly works. How content she is surrounded by endless fields.
“Can’t veking hear it anymore,” Yekosh grumbles, and the scars swirling from his cheeks upward along his temples tell the story. “Eight sun cycles. That’s how long I was her saikh. Kicked me out the day I asked her to be my mate.” His voice distorts into a murmur when he adds, “I was so certain.”
That won’t happen to me. “She sold you into slavery?”
He shakes his head, wiping the blade on a red-stained fabric beside the disinfectant. “Gave me twenty-thousand credits, thanked me for my service, and told me not to show my pretty face again. What about you? You’re a long way from home, brother.”
“My female is human. We live on a farm on the eastern outskirts where we grow whillwheat.”
“Human,” he says on an exhale. “Only seen them a handful of times. Stunning females.”
“Beautiful.” Even more so on the inside. “I want to become her husband.”
“What’s that?”
“Their chosen mate, usually joined in a ceremony from what I read on the cosmikin.”
He smacks his tongue. “How many husbands does she have?”
“Humans only take one mate,” I say with a grin that stretches higher the more his eyes widen.
Lips pout, moving the swirls on his cheeks. “When I went to school for planetary research, a company offered me an internship on Earth. Stupid me turned it down since it was unpaid. Imagine the possibilities if I would have gone. One mate…”
With a curt nod, he lowers the glistening metal down to my finger, continuing where he left off. The convex blade lines up with the red cut, which starts at my nail bed, tracing upward in the shape of a stalk.
“Take a deep breath.”
The sharp blade glides easily over my knuckle and to the back of my hand, where it forms rows of whillwheat kernels with beards feathering around it. It takes a few moments for the pain to register. But when it does, it burns deep, leaving behind a relentless sting, the urge to pull away strong.
“I did the other ones myself.” I try to distract from the agonizing heat spreading across my skin. “But I wanted these absolutely perfect and scarring the right hand myself would be near impossible.”
Yekosh nods his approval. “You did a fine job on your chest and stomach. The one I did on your sternum will blend in perfectly once healed.”
I stare down at my chest, the enraged skin around the cuts already swelling, the blood inside the wound clotted to a darker shade of red. “I hope she will love this one particularly.”
“Can Vandalar and humans have younglings together?”
“The species compatibility chart says yes.” Something I checked the morning after she received the letter. “After this, I will look into wall paneling.”
“How my mother cursed me when I was still small, scratching those nubs on her furniture,” he says with a chuckle, but his face quickly turns earnest again. “Your human female… does she have other female friends? Unmated?”
“Two that I know of, though one of them bought herself a Vandalar slave only a few days ago. The other, I never met.”
“Hm,” he breathes, lowering his head slightly to work on the thin beards of the whillwheat. “Offspring would have been nice. Though it’s almost cruel to bring more sons into a world where they stand no chance to find a companion.”
When he starts at the next nailbed, I clench my eyes shut, breath temporarily bottling inside my chest. “Perhaps you should take that trip to Earth now.”
“Yes, perhaps I should,” he mutters, followed by a whispered, “Husband.”
When the scars are done, he wipes them down one final time, followed by a cooling ointment to protect it from infection. “No bathing for four suns, showering only. Use the soap I gave you. If you’re running a fever, go seek a healer.”
He helps me put my shirt on, the gray fabric immediately spotting with blood around the sternum. I will probably have to walk around without one for a few suns, and make sure I sleep on my back, so I won’t stain the sheets.
I pay with the credits I got from the bank earlier and head back outside, the city illuminated by hundreds of holograms. Scaled females advertise for interstellar travel to the ashen beaches of Heliar, or the floating mountains of Cultum.
Once back in Lilly’s truck, I carefully join the hover lane to the outskirts, being extra mindful of those around me. It’s been a while since I drove manually since the vehicles on Vandalheim are fully automated.
By the time I reach Whispering Whillwheat, the fields lie dark, but warm light comes from the kitchen window, putting a nervous thrill inside my chest. Too bad I can’t let the scars heal first, but there’s no hiding my hands.
Steps so light I have to be floating carry me inside the house, and my heart pounds so rapidly I sense every throb pulsating inside the cuts.
“Lilly?”
She closes the fridge door, and I love the way something sparks at the depth of her eyes. “You’re back!”
A couple of hours without her face, and I realize how beautiful she is all over again. Her hair waves down along her shoulders, the tips dark and probably still damp from a shower. She’s wearing nothing but an oversized shirt, faded and with the print peeling. Is there anything sexier in this world?
“Vek, I missed you,” I confess with a mumble. “I’m sorry it took so long, but traffic was insane.”
“Well, as you can see, I didn’t burn down the kitchen.” She stands beside the fridge and fumbles with the hem of her shirt, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “So? What’s the surprise?”
“Don’t freak out on me, okay? It’s still very fresh, but give it a couple of moon cycles, and you’ll be able to recognize the pattern right away.”
I reach my hands out.
My entire body hums with such excitement my fingers tremble slightly. I regret many of those scars decorating my body, save for the ones dedicated to my mother. But what I got done today? I will never regret those. At the very least, they will serve as a lifelong reminder of Lilly.
Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh… my… god.”
She’s praying to her deity.
That’s a good sign.
“I get it looks pretty raw.” And I keep my fingers straight, so the wounds won’t crack, and she’ll squeal at the sight. “Perhaps you can help me wrap it for a few days, but I wanted you to see them first.”
She walks up to me, breath bursting in and out through the gaps of her fingers with such force one might think she’s hyperventilating. “Is that…”
A breath.
And another.
“Whillwheat,” I confirm with a nod. “I wanted something special. Something that connects us.”
Her hands slip off her mouth, revealing parted lips and not even the hint of a smile, and my guts turn into a hard ball. She doesn’t like it? Too small? Not detailed enough?
“Jax…” Now her hands rake over her hair, each grabbing a fistful with such force her scalp strains. “Why did you do this to yourself?”
That ball of guts turns heavier, weighing down so hard my entire stomach convulses. “Lilly, it’s… kuchi.”
“I know what it is!” The distress in her voice turns my heartbeat ragged, but the way she starts pacing the kitchen mumbling ‘what did I do?’ repeatedly is outright concerning. “You’re gonna die of a fucking infection or some weird alien skin bug, Jax. And
what for? Why did you get yourself scarred again?”
For you, my mind screams. Because I want to mark you, claim you, and make you mine. Be so good to you Whispering Whillwheat will be sprawling with our younglings.
But I mention none of that.
That would be a bit much.
Instead I say, “Because scarring myself is one of the greatest gestures of devotion—”
“A saikh can give his female,” she murmurs, and the spark in her eyes dies as her pupils lock on the old kitchen floor. “I can’t believe I fucked up this bad.”
“Hmm?”
She shakes her head, mumbling something incoherent, pressing a palm to her forehead. “I can’t do this, Jax.”
Something akin to an ulcer swells at the bottom of my stomach. Do I dare ask? “Can’t do what, Lilly?”
“This… this…” Her pacing falters to a dead halt and her green eyes lock with mine. “This entire saikh thing. If your females are happy living a lie, hey, more power to them. But I can’t just have a guy walk in here looking like he got caught underneath the mower blade and—” She throws her hand at me much in the same way she did the day she bought me. “You’re dripping blood on the floor.”
Funny, considering my veins feel frozen solid. “What do you mean with you can’t do this saikh thing?”
She grabs a towel from the counter, folding it more times than necessary before she kneels down in front of me, wiping up the blood. “I want to ask you something, Jax.”
I swallow hard. “Anything.”
When she comes back up, she clutches an arm to her stomach, voice quaking. “Please answer honestly.”
“I never lied to you before, did I?”
“No you didn’t,” she says with a gulp, silence swelling between us for long enough the toes curl inside my shoes. “Did any of those females you’ve been with ever ask if you loved them? Had feelings for them? Cared for them?”
I sense the muscles along my neck coiling, and the tension between us rises to such new heights the hairs on my arms stand on end. Is this another one of those rhetorical questions?
“Yes,” I answer truthfully.
She nods, two lines forming between her narrowing eyes. “And what did you usually answer?”
My core hollows, and yet the weight of her question quickly replaces the sudden emptiness. What am I supposed to answer? Nothing about those other females would ever compare to what I’m experiencing with Lilly. Not on any level. And why is she asking me this in the first place?
“I told them…” My voice dies off, and I clear my throat before I try again. “I told them whatever I figured would please them.” I know it was the wrong thing to say the moment her lips tremble, so I quickly add, “It’s what saikhs do.”
Vek, now they tremble even harder.
She breaks eye contact and walks toward the bathroom, uttering, “This is all my fault.”
“What is?” I walk behind her, my body so paralyzed with fear each step takes effort.
When she storms past me with a small basket, I turn back toward the kitchen, my face going numb. It’s not like I expected she would throw herself into my arms and ask me to mark her, but I certainly didn’t expect this either.
Lilly grabs a roll of gauze and wraps it carefully around my hand, her voice quiet and so unlike my female. “Once the harvest is in, I will pay you for all the work you did. And I’ll cover your ticket home.”
My mouth turns dry.
And then what?
“Lilly, if I displ—”
“I get it’ll be awkward until then, and that’s totally my fault,” she says, eyes flicking up to me for the fraction of a moment. “I want you to know that I am so… so grateful for what you did. All of it. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. I never wanted a saikh, and I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”
The universe pulls away from around me, and gravity suspends itself. Suddenly, I’m sitting on a chair, the kitchen and living room spinning with such speed bile licks the back of my throat. If I’m not her saikh, then what am I?
Booty call.
That strange expression hits my head like a splitting axe, turning the way Lilly bandages my other hand into a blurry illusion. Casual sex. Just fun. No strings attached. The more definitions from the cosmikin slice into my brain, the more my new kuchi itch.
And I feel ten times a fool.
My legs carry me outside all on their own, my mind nothing but a blur. Lilly stalks behind me, asking me questions, saying something about panties, but her voice is a faint whisper against the rushing of blood between my ears.
I jump in her truck and drive off, leaving behind yet another disappointed female.
Nineteen
Jax
Headlights. Stars. Holograms.
I see them all as I hover along the outskirts, not knowing what to do, what to think. So I just drive around, trying to rid that numbing pain clasping to my chest. How did I vek up this time?
Are human females truly so different I didn’t catch on to the signs of her displeasure? Given the way she couldn’t get enough of my cock, it wasn’t that. So what was it? I tried so hard to be perfect.
For Vandalar standards.
Right. Cultural discrepancies.
Perhaps I missed something important, but what if I can’t salvage this? How am I supposed to return to Vandalheim after the life Lilly showed me? Sure, I could go to Earth instead, but it took me all my life to fall in love. That’s not something you just walk away from. No matter how much I ponder, there’s only one way to make sense of this.
I rip on the steering wheel, and the old cabin moans its age, swaying and bucking when I pull toward the exit. The side-view mirror crashes into the lane force field, sending a few orange sparks into the night before I steady the vehicle.
It takes me forever to track down Steph’s house, a two-story building surrounded by a manicured landscape and a tall stone wall. I only went here once on the day Lilly bought me, when she dropped off Steph, but I recognize the elaborate wrought-iron gate tipped in gold.
I slowly approach the gate and lower the window, the heat of the fusion panels sending a whiff of heat into my face as I poke it out toward the access panel.
“Please state your name and the reason for your visit,” a computed voice crackles through the speaker.
“It’s Jax.”
Seconds tick into eternity, but the gate eventually opens with a beep. I struggle the transmission back into low gear, following the drive until it circles by the front door where I park.
By the time I get out of the truck, Steph already leans against the doorframe, arms clasping to her stomach, head slowly shaking. “She kicked you out, didn’t she?”
A new wave of bile bubbles at the pit of my stomach. The fact that Steph knows can only mean that Lilly was displeased for a while. Vek, how did I not notice?
“You have to help me,” I say and walk up the stairs to her covered porch. “I can’t lose her, Steph, but I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
She sighs deeply. “Why didn’t you ask her?”
“She was very upset before I left, and I didn’t want to make it worse in all my glorious ignorance.”
“And you figured walking out on her without standing your ground was the way to do it?” she asks, and I cringe at her question. Vek! Now that she brings it up… yeah, I totally walked out on her without saying a word. “Come in, Vandalar sex god.”
I follow her through a set of tall double doors carved from solid wood. The scent of fresh-cut flowers greets me in her foyer, the high ceiling illuminated by a massive chandelier.
She waves me behind her, long, black dress floating over polished, white stone. “Coffee? Tea? Hot coco?”
“I’ve grown to like coffee,” I say with a dip of my head, and plant myself on one of the stools lining a raised kitchen counter. “Is it rude of me to ask if you’re rich?”
“Loaded,” she mouths of her shoulder, followed by
a wink. “So… Lilly. Which trigger did you push?”
Her built-in coffee maker hums, and steam hisses into a room easily half the size of our house. Lilly’s house. Not ours.
I take a deep breath, lungs tingling as if filled with liquid self-pity. “Well, I’m not sure. I came back from the city and showed her the kuchi I had scarred into my skin in her honor. Everything went downhill from there.”
“The what?” Her brows angle down, but she keeps her eyes on the overly full coffee mug until stoneware clanks against what I assume is marble.
I tap against my bandaged hand. “The scars we carry? I had another Vandalar cut my fingers and the back of my hands in the design of whillwheat.”
“That’s so adorable,” she says, but lifts a disgusted upper lip the moment she spots the red specks on my wrapped hands. “Changed my mind. That is disgusting. And why is your shirt bloody?”
I grab the hem and lift it up, pain searing across my sternum where blood-crusted fabric pulls away from where it stuck to a cut. That will need another layer of ointment.
When Steph throws a hand to her mouth, I fear the worst. “That is so freaking adorable, Jax! Did she see that one?”
“I didn’t get the chance to show her,” I say. “It all happened so fast and…” I sink my forehead into my palm. “She wants me gone. I messed up. I don’t know how, but I displeased her.”
Steph hops onto the counter, head tilted, concern lining her lopsided smile. “Oh sweetie, I can assure you that isn’t the problem.”
“So what is?” Shaky fingers bring the coffee mug to my lips, the warmth of the beverage somewhat calming. “I never tried this hard for perfection.”
“Let me tell you something about Earth men, okay?” She crosses her legs and bunches the excess fabric in her lap. “When they suddenly start cooking, cleaning, and acting all perfect, I know that shitback’s probably up to no good. Cheating perhaps. Or texting with another girl behind my back.”
