by Webster, K
“Is he eating well?” Avrell asks as he takes measurements and readings.
Aria smiles sweetly, exhausted. I want to tell her I remember the feeling, but the words won’t come. “Almost around the clock,” she says. “Avrell, be straight with me. It’s only been a short while, but I can tell something is wrong. He doesn’t seem settled. He eats a lot, and I know I could be the fretful first-time mom, but I’ve got a gut instinct that’s telling me he isn’t getting enough.”
Avrell sighs, rubbing his eyes. “We’ve learned that mortyoung grow at an accelerated rate compared to humans. He was born earlier than typical human young, yet much larger despite the reduced gestation. But, uncharacteristic to normal mortyoung, he rapidly shed his birthweight at an exceedingly alarming rate. I thought maybe it would take time for his vitals to even out, but they’re not showing as much improvement as I’d like. And though it is normal for mortyoung to lose a certain percentage of weight after birth, little Sokko is losing too much, too fast. So, I’m sorry Aria, Commander, but yes, I think you’re right. He isn’t getting enough nutrients from your milk alone.”
A tear falls down Aria’s cheek, the earlier revelations already forgotten. “What can we do?”
“When my little one wasn’t getting enough from me alone, I had to supplement with formula,” I say. I don’t know where the words come from, because that certainly couldn’t have been my voice. No. I turn away, but they’re already taking my contribution and running with it.
Avrell perks up. “You remember when Hadrian was but a few micro-revolutions, when we had to give him so much rogcow milk, we thought he’d drink the whole herd dry? We could perhaps do the same for young Sokko. With the combination of mort and alien genes, it could be that the mortyoung will need more nutrients. It’s worth the risk to travel,” Avrell says.
As the others speak, I let Draven lead me away from the sound of their voices until the doors slide shut behind us.
“It’s all right, my Molly. I’ve got you. Let me take you back to our quarters. I’ll have Galen fetch some of those goldenroot candies you aliens like so much. You can rest, and I’ll bring you to eat once Breccan has finished speaking with Avrell.”
“I don’t want to talk about that anymore. At least not now. I know there are things you need to know—it just hurts.” I stop him before we enter his quarters, meeting his eyes. “Please?”
Draven brushes the hair away from my face. “I understand pain, my Molly. And I’ll do whatever I can to take yours away.”
8
Draven
Two solars.
All it took was two solars to go from peace to rekking madness. Every single mort and the two females here are on edge.
It’s the mortling, Sokko.
I’ve never heard anything screech so loudly and for so long.
Never rekking ending.
Avrell has been working tirelessly to extract more milk from Aria’s breasts in an effort to duplicate its properties while Galen scans our region for rogcow herds. The geostorm is out of the way now, but The Graveyard is barren and empty of life, which is typical after these climatic events. All Galen needs to do is give me word on where a herd is, and I’ll hunt down those rekking rogcows.
“You’re pacing,” Molly says from our bed.
I pull away from my inner turmoil to regard her. This solar she is irresistible. I’m finding it more and more difficult to keep my hands from her. All I want is to take hold of her fleshy rump and squeeze it. At night, when she slumbers, her face burrows against my chest, and I take my fill of her bottom in my hands. She never pushes me away. It’s as though the touch comforts her, too.
“We need to find a herd,” I say absently, stalking over to the bed to sit beside her.
She’s perched on her knees, and when I relax beside her, she wraps her slender arms around me. Hugging. She calls these squeezes of energy hugs. I asked Avrell if the aliens have special abilities because my mate seems to send bursts of life thrumming through my veins during these episodes. He told me it’s a four-letter word I don’t know yet. I suspect he was having amusement at my expense and have been agitated ever since.
I nuzzle my face against the side of her neck that smells sweet and mouth-watering. Her scent is one I’ve grown quite addicted to. She has claws, too, but they are different. Rounded and thinner. The same color as her flesh. And her claws are not useless as I once thought. They contain their own abilities.
To calm.
The moment she rakes her claws through the patchy hair on my nog, it has a relaxing effect on my body. I would ask Avrell, but I do not choose to be laughed at again. One of my arms wraps around her middle, and I try to mimic her hugs. I don’t have the same powers as her, but I try to show through my actions that I wish I did. She seems to appreciate my attempts because she rewards me with her lovely signing as she calls it and her calm clawing.
“Do you think they’ll ever find the herds?” she murmurs, her hot breath tickling the top of my nog.
My lips whisper over her flesh. “Not any time soon. The geostorms have sent them into hiding. Places where the scanners aren’t picking up.”
She shivers. “Do you think Sokko will die?”
I wince at that thought. Though the mortling is unappealing to look at, I don’t want it to die. Breccan and Aria—everyone besides Molly and myself—look at the miniature beast as though it is wrought from the sun itself. Bright and beautiful. It would break this faction if we lost our first true hope for a future on our planet. The Eternals are no place for a mortling. Breccan might retreat to his dark, inner thoughts for good this time. This is something I cannot allow. He brought me from my darkness, and I refuse to let him go there. The darkness is a place no mort should ever go.
“I need to hunt them,” I utter, mostly to myself.
Molly pulls away and ceases her clawing, much to my dismay. “You want to go out there and look for them anyway?”
“It is necessary,” I tell her in a solemn tone.
Her brown eyes sheen with unshed tears. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” I growl so fiercely she jumps. “It is unsafe.”
She gapes at me. “If it’s so unsafe, then why are you going?”
“Because someone must do it, and I am the only one with the skills to do so.”
“I’m coming with you,” she snips. “When? Tonight?”
When she starts to move off the bed, I grip her wrists, pulling her close enough that our noses touch. “You’re staying here, my mate.”
She scoffs. “Absolutely not. I have skills, too. I grew up on a freakin’ farm, Draven. I know all about hunting and animals. I’m going.”
“No,” I snarl, panic rising up inside me. My lips brush against hers. They are softer and plumper than I imagined. I want to investigate them further. If only I had more time. “I beg of you.”
She puckers her lips and presses them to mine. It’s like a hug for our lips. The energy she emits zaps through my veins, invigorating my every cell. Her hands break free of my hold as they slide into my hair once more. I let out a groan of appreciation. The moment my lips part as the sound escapes, my mate surprises me.
Sweet.
Maddening.
Delicious.
Her taste slides across my forked tongue, stealing my every thought that isn’t her. My tongue lashes at hers, desperate for more of her unique flavor. I can’t help but grab her hips to pull her closer to me. Her legs settle on either side of me, and her center presses against my cock that is achingly hard, straining against my minnasuit.
“Draven,” she moans, her hips rocking like they sometimes do when she sings.
I hiss and grab her round rump with more force than I intended. She cries out and nips my bottom lip. Fire burns through my entire body as I lose my mind to the sensations she is flooding me with.
Her fingers tug at my hair, and she pulls my nog back. Brown eyes blaze with a hunger I’ve never seen on anyone before. It’s as though sh
e wants to consume me. I try to recall what I know about mating. It was something I didn’t read for myself, but overheard Breccan speaking of not long after he started mating with Aria.
Remove the clothes.
Lick her cunt until she cries.
Make her wet with arousal, so she can take your cock.
Breccan didn’t say what happened next, but Hadrian demonstrated against the wall, making terrible noises as he pretended to rut.
I think I can figure it out.
“My mate,” I mutter, squeezing her rump. “Would you ever…would you consider…”
Taking my cock?
The words die on my tongue.
Shame creeps up along my flesh, making it burn hot.
“W-What?” she stammers. “What is it that you want from me?”
Her heated stare sears into me.
“I want to put my cock—”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
We’re jolted from the moment as someone interrupts us. She slides off my thighs with a surprised shriek. I’m already storming toward the door in the next moment.
“What is it?” I demand as I swipe my access card.
The door slides open, and Avrell storms in. His hair is messy, and his tired eyes are wild.
“I can’t do it, Draven. I can’t mimic the milk properties, even with Calix’s help on the comms. Not even Galen can figure it out.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “How am I to tell Breccan that his mortling will go to The Eternals because I cannot find a solution?”
Molly bounds up from the bed, rushing over to us. She loops her arm with mine and reaches out to touch Avrell’s shoulder with her other hand.
“Babycakes,” she coos. “We’ve got this.”
I look down at her, my brow lifted in question. She simply lifts her chin and does a one-eyed blink. Is her other eyelid broken?
“My mate and I,” she says breathlessly, “are going to hunt for a herd. How soon can we travel?”
Relief floods through Avrell at her words, and he gives me a hopeful smile. “Truly? You’re to hunt down a herd?”
I cock my nog at him, confused. Avrell is all for the protection of the females, yet here he is, willing to let my mate go out into The Graveyard to assist me in my hunt. This has me realizing the importance of this task. What is the point of impregnating the females if their young will be sent to The Eternals within days? I would never do such a horrible thing to my Molly. She’s already grieved over the loss of one life.
“My mate farmed,” I tell Avrell, confidence in my tone. I flick my gaze at Molly to make sure I said the right term. She nods her nog as she smiles. I continue, “She farmed and knows of hunts on her planet. There are beasts here similar to what she is familiar with. She is skilled with a magknife and will kill when necessary as she proved with her Kevined Randy. My mate is a valuable asset to this mission.”
And I am selfish.
I want her by my side.
I will protect her from any beast out there. Any storm. Anything.
“We must make haste then,” Avrell growls, motioning for us to follow. I’ve never seen him so maddened. Calix, yes. Breccan, most definitely. Never Avrell. With the arrival of our aliens, it’s as though we’re all performing at elevated levels of protection and determination. We care for them, and they are vital to our success of continuity on this planet.
As soon as we make it into the corridor, the screams of the mortling echo louder than before.
Avrell stops and turns abruptly. Sadness flashes in his dark eyes. “He’s losing too much weight. Another five, maybe six solars, and…” His brows furl together. “I need you back, a ronking rogcow in tow, within four. We cannot take any chances, Draven. Sokko’s tender life depends on it.”
Molly and I both nod our nogs.
Time is of the utmost importance.
* * *
As we gather supplies, my eyes drift to Sayer. He has Molly pulled close as he speaks to her. She doesn’t seem to be in duress, so I allow his proximity for now. When Jareth pops in between them, slinging both of his arms across each of their shoulders, the only thing that stops me from ripping him away from her is her loud chuckle.
She is not frightened.
Galen hands me a pouch, drawing my attention away from the other morts and my mate. “This is dried chaxen. You will need it.”
I open the pouch and peer at the green dust. “What is it?”
“It’s derived from mosshay I grow in my lab. It’s something rogcows eat. Where it can be found, the rogcows are plentiful. Sometimes it grows in patches near Lake Acido after a drenching geostorm. When the mosshay is dried out and crushed, it becomes this dust.” He tugs at the pouch strings to close it. “Sprinkle it around your camp at night. Leave a trail of it from the facility to wherever you go. If the winds are just right, the rogcows can smell it from farther than the eye can see. They will come.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
He frowns for a moment, uncertainty glimmering in his black eyes. Then, he lifts his chin. “It has to work, Lieutenant. It absolutely must.”
He stows the pouch in a large bag. We have to go on foot, so everything must be carried on our backs.
“Here,” Oz says, striding around the corner with a small zuta-metal box in his hand. “It’s the best I could do on such short notice. A vacuu-pod. Smaller than the vacuu-room I made for Calix and Emery. The entire unit has decontamination properties. You’ll notice there’s a sheen of white powder once you open the pod. It’s a cleansing agent that sucks and eliminates harmful toxins both in the air and on surfaces. I apologize that it’s small, but it will do the job.” He flashes me a wide grin, showing off his double fangs. “Might have to hold the mate close. Not much room in there.”
I let out a warning growl because I don’t like the way his eyes travel over her. He tosses me the vacuu-pod box and bounces down the corridor before I can give him a good knock to his nog. I shove the box into my pack and rise to my feet.
Breccan enters the corridor where we’re all standing, his features haggard and weary. He stalks over to me, standing too close for my comfort. “Thank you, my friend,” he rasps out. “This journey is important.”
“We’re gonna wrangle you a cow,” Molly assures him, coming to stand beside me. Her hand threads with mine. “Isn’t that right, mate?”
I don’t correct her to tell her that it’s called a rogcow. It warms me how sure of our success she is.
“If they exist, I will find them,” I growl in response.
The mortling’s screams echo louder than before, causing Breccan to shudder. Despair is reflected on his features, and it makes me want to bring him all the rekking rogcows on this planet.
“You’ll leave at first light,” he grunts out. “It’s too late to set out on the journey. Rest your nogs for now.”
I finish packing up while Molly interrogates the remaining morts in the corridor. She’s asking about the terrain, the weather, and creatures we may encounter. Pride surges through me. She is my mate. I have never had a partner to assist me on a mission. Typically, I do solo missions if possible. When the other morts come with, they do one thing, while I do another. Sometimes, Breccan injects himself to aid me, but I never need his assistance.
I don’t need Molly’s assistance either.
But I want her company.
She bends to push something into her bag and puts her juicy round rump on display for me. My cock thickens in my minnasuit. The urge to rut against her becomes a maddening roar inside my nog.
When she lifts and turns to regard me, I can’t hide my need for her. Her brown eyes are soft, but as they drag down the front of my minnasuit where my cock strains, they grow fiery hot. She bites on her bottom lip. It makes me want to take a bite, too.
“Time for bed,” she announces, her voice breathy.
I sniff the air, catching the smallest hint of her female scent.
And like a mort on a hunt, I stalk after my prey.
The only d
ifference is, she doesn’t run or hide.
No, my mate runs right into my arms.
I grab her round rump in both hands as she wraps her legs around my waist. My claws puncture the minnasuit she’s wearing, and she whimpers when the sharp points tease along her bare flesh beneath.
Ignoring the open mouths of Sayer and Jareth, and the flare of envy in Galen’s eyes, I storm off with my mate.
It’s time to make her mine in every sense of the word.
9
Molly
I let him carry me, mindless of the others, until we reach the hall. Then, with a flirty, fiery look over my shoulder, I dart off for his quarters with him close on my heel. He gives chase with a growl that sends shockwaves along my skin.
Tomorrow, we’ll hunt, but tonight, I’m the prey, and he is the predator.
I make it all the way to his door where I’m stymied by the lack of an armband to unlock the door. But it doesn’t matter because he’s there, pinning me against the cool metal, before I have a moment to consider my next move. His towering form blots out any light, and in the shadows cast by his body, it feels like we’re the only two left on this lonely, lost planet.
“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, get ready for the hunt tomorrow?” My words are as useless as my lungs, which struggle to find air. There’s nothing we can do while it’s dark out, but my mouth moves without conscious decision.
His dark, crazed eyes roam over me hungrily as though he can see through the material of my suit. I itch to have his gaze replaced by his hands. “There’ll be no work tonight, unless you count what I want to do to you as work.” He cocks his head to the side as though amused. If I wasn’t mistaken, he almost looks like he’s…smiling. Draven smiling?
He waves an arm at the sensor by the door, and it glides open, the emptiness beckoning us inside. Draven takes one step forward, our bodies brushing, and I take a step back. He does this again and again until we’re in the solitude of his rooms. Once the doors close, we’re completely alone with only the double moon glow from the other side of the blood-smeared window to illuminate the cave-like space.