by Reagan Woods
The Earther’s beauty hit him like a fist to the solar plexus. Her smooth, oval face and exotic, steady eyes were all Tiron could see when the lab door finally slid open. He managed not to trip over his feet, which had developed a will all their own, as they carried him unerringly to her.
She was a ray of sunlight shattering the darkness around him, a fresh breath of air and every other metaphor he’d ever heard for feminine allure all rolled into one tiny, delicious little package.
And then it was over.
Tiron knew the moment she caught sight of his scars. He heard her startled breath and saw the horrified pity streak across her expressive face.
It made him angry that she, conquered and defeated, dared to pity him. Tiron could not abide that.
“Save your pity for someone who needs it, Earther,” his gravelly voice scraped and clawed its way up his damaged throat, hurtling like wicked blades through the air.
Surprise flashed in her beautiful brownish-green eyes as his words found their mark. He expected her to lose the proud stance she’d assumed for his inspection, maybe grovel and stammer out an apology.
Instead, she calmly returned his stare.
Finally, she propped a cane against her body, balancing carefully, and extended her hand to him, “I’m Wilhelmina Anderson. I hope you’ll call me Willa.”
Tiron studied her outstretched hand carefully, making no move towards it. He knew that this was how Earthers greeted one another, but he felt perplexed that she’d ignored his challenge.
Gingerly, he extended his own hand, roped and puckered with shiny scars, to engulf her smooth brown one. She pumped his hand up and down once, and gave a slight squeeze, before releasing him to reposition her cane.
Tiron felt the loss of her gentle touch immediately. He didn’t remember the last time that someone, especially a female, had touched him voluntarily. At first, it had been because people were afraid they would hurt him. Now, they found the vivid white and pink scars that veined his dark skin repulsive.
“I guess we should use the break room.” She turned and pointed with her cane at the open door. “You know?” she tilted her head and shot him a shy smile. “For the interview.”
Interview? He mouthed the question at Balcar as he passed, trailing along behind the fast-moving little Earther.
The doctor merely stared back in confusion.
∞ ∞ ∞
On Earth, Willa had been surviving by the skin of her teeth. She wouldn’t delude herself, her resourcefulness had been at an end.
Settling into her favorite chair, Willa folded her hands on the narrow table, “What does the position entail, exactly?”
Willa wanted to thrive, and, to do that, she needed to stay with the CORANOS. That meant she needed to be useful. She’d have to dig deeper and find a place for herself, her niche, so to speak.
No way did she want to live on Earth or answer to the creepy Dorit and his pet Doranos.
What Balcar had described to her sounded suspect. Since they were different species, he must have been trying to describe something more akin to a live-in housekeeper rather than a kept woman. The thought made her uneasy, but she believed she could maneuver her way into a comfortable, mutually beneficial role.
If Commander Tiron were willing to work with her, she would make sure he didn’t regret it. Starting right now, she would charm, cajole and pry her way into his good graces. Although, it might be easier said than done; his forbidding looks indicated he’d be a tough nut to crack.
“Position?” the gravelly-voiced giant settled into the chair across from her.
She found herself craning her neck to meet his golden eyes. When she focused on the unusual metallic orbs, the ruined side of his face wasn’t as distracting. Tiron must have endured an incredible amount of pain but she knew what it was like to despise pity. And she wouldn’t ever show a moment’s sympathy to this proud warrior again.
“Yes, Balcar didn’t have time to explain my duties, or, I guess I should say my potential duties.”
As time ticked by, Willa feared Tiron wouldn’t speak. He would be just like everyone else and mistake her slender form and mobility aides as weaknesses. She’d beg, if she had to, for the chance to prove him wrong. Because anyone who believed she was weak was flat-out wrong.
Or she might attach herself, like a tick, to his leg and refuse to let go until he promised to take her with him. Anything was better than the hellish existence Priya had reported enduring in the Earth work camp.
“As warriors,” he finally began. “We have the right to petition for the Right to Claim females of other races. If a female is claimed, she is to be protected by the male who claims her.”
Willa nodded encouragingly, wondering where this was going. “Please continue.”
“To put it simplistically, you would live with me. You would sleep next to me during the sleep cycle and stay securely within my quarters during my work cycle. I am responsible for you, even when I am working. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” she said. “Your job is to keep me out of trouble and my job is to stay away from trouble.”
His spicy, almost cinnamon-y scent filled the small room, making her acutely aware of his nearness.
“Just so,” he agreed. “You would take your meals with me and travel with me whenever possible. I can appoint a temporary guardian for you in the event that it’s not safe.”
“Commander, forgive me if I’ve misunderstood, but is this a sexual arrangement?” She thought it was best to just get it out there.
“A mating arrangement? No. There are many points to be negotiated in a bonding contract,” he answered. “This is a straight-forward Claiming. As long as we are outside of Corian space, you can reject my Claim or sever our agreement without penalty. It becomes somewhat trickier inside the Corian Galaxy, but I don’t foresee us spending much time there.”
With that point satisfied, Willa moved on to her next major concern. “Would I be allowed to continue using the reconditioner?” Priya had been shocked that Willa had one of her very own.
“Yes, it’s a requirement until you’ve completed the course.”
“Commander, what do you get out of this?” she couldn’t help asking.
“The pleasure of your company,” he answered, the damaged side of his mouth becoming a twisted grimace.
She knew that both the Doranos and Corian galaxies had dreadful female to male population ratios. That he was willing to help her in exchange for companionship seemed ridiculous. If he wanted to keep his reasons to himself, that was his prerogative.
What mattered was that she trusted Balcar and Balcar trusted Commander Tiron. And she wouldn’t have to go to a disease-riddled work camp.
“So, what’s next?” She desperately wanted him to sponsor her, or claim her. Whatever. She wanted, needed, to stay. At least, until she could figure something else out.
“Vank, its Tiron. I would like to register a petition for the Right to Claim the Earth female, Wilhelmina Anderson.”
Willa slid her eyes left and then right, she didn’t see Vank. He was pretty hard to miss. Turning to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind her, she saw…
Nope. No one.
Great. She’d just agreed to go home with a crazy alien.
“Who are you talking to?” she whispered across the table.
His deep belly laugh sounded as scratchy as his voice but there was a rich quality to it.
“I com’d Vank via my internal com unit,” he explained, still laughing at her a little. “Warriors who spend considerable time off-ship often have them implanted.”
He stood and held his hand out, waiting for her to place her smaller one in his.
Relief washed over Willa. She’d done it. Now she just had to get used to living with a roommate. Piece of cake, right?
Chapter Eight
Living with Commander Tiron was going to be anything but a piece of cake, Willa decided. When they arrived aboard the Trident, the hour was late
. He’d brought her to his quarters and given her the grand tour. Her personal space aboard the Hope had been tiny, but she’d had the run of the entire lab. The Trident’s command quarters were stingy, and she had to share it with a prickly giant. A prickly giant who happened to smell really good.
They entered into a beige dining area that the Commander obviously used as a home office. He’d shown her the small food prep alcove, the tiny bathing room and a miniscule sitting area – all beige. After a few paces in each direction, she’d seen it all…every utilitarian inch.
Presently, she lay on the raised platform that dominated the sleeping room. The Commander had been completely honest, she realized now, when he’d said she would have to sleep next to him.
He took the “protection” part of their arrangement very seriously. Making her a palette in the floor wouldn’t do, and a cot in the sitting room was unacceptable. According to him, his body must definitively separate her from the main entrance to his quarters.
He’d given her an over-sized shirt to sleep in, but hadn’t bothered with one himself, choosing to wear only a pair of sleep pants. The scars on his ridiculously sculpted torso appeared much less severe than the ones on his hands, forearms and face. It almost looked like the damaged skin had filled in over his chiseled pectorals and abs, but, instead of the lovely patterned brown tones of a Corian, the new dermis was very pink. Trying not to stare and failing miserably, she realized with a jolt that he probably had been very good looking before his disfigurement.
Willa was acutely aware of the intimacy of their situation. Every breath she drew pulled his spicy musk into her lungs – they were so close.
Adding to her acute discomfort, the sleep platform, while plenty spacious for one of the giant warriors, was far too small to accommodate the addition of her five-foot-nine-inch frame. The Commander couldn’t be comfortable hanging off of the far edge of the platform, but he was fast asleep, if his slow, even breathing was any indicator.
Willa huffed out a frustrated puff of air, gingerly attempting to wriggle into a new position. Lying on her side, her leg brace left her with little maneuverability, and she was wedged into the crack between the wall and the platform. The pins-and-needles sensation in her arm had started out mild, but was quickly becoming unbearable.
“What’s wrong?” The Commander’s harsh voice sliced through the silence.
“I’m sorry, I was trying not to wake you. I’m…stuck,” she admitted reluctantly.
A large hand hooked under her armpits and gave a yank. About the same time, she managed to work her arms free and push out of the treacherous crevasse. She was airborne in the next moment, and landed back-first, sprawling across his muscular chest.
“Oooomph,” he grunted on impact.
“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live. If you were feeling neglected over there, you could have just said so,” he snorted sarcastically.
“The damsel in distress act gets a quicker response,” she retorted in kind, too surprised to censor herself. Her response drew an unexpected huff of laughter from her companion.
The awkward situation flustered her and Willa dug her elbow into his side for the leverage to move. “Ooops, sorry!”
“Just stay where I put you, female,” he growled warmly against her temple when she squirmed, large hands spanning her waist to slide up and rest just beneath her breasts.
“Isn’t there an easier way to do this?” she grumbled back, heartbeat picking up tempo beneath his long-fingered grip.
“Relax, little one,” his voice gentled and he gave her a slight squeeze, obviously attributing her galloping pulse to fear. “I won’t bite, as you Earthers say.”
At least he was being nice-ish. He didn’t mind when she gave him attitude and seemed to have a quirky sense of humor all his own. They’d figure things out, she felt confident. Right now, they just had to get through this settling-in phase.
“Unless I ask you to, right?” she quipped, squealing nervously as he pressed her straight up from his chest and sat her down gently next to him. Talk about strong…
“I don’t even want to know what that’s supposed to mean,” he grouched, sliding a big bicep beneath her head and tucking the light blanket around her with his other arm. “Now go to sleep.”
Cradled in the Commander’s strong arms, Willa felt awkward and stiff. She was uncertain how she was supposed to relax, having never slept this close to anyone before. Gradually, though, his slow, even breaths lulled her to sleep.
Chapter Nine
5 Days Later
“Willa, I won’t be back until after third watch,” Commander Tiron said, reaching over her head to fiddle with the settings on the hover screen that displayed the food prep tutorial she’d been watching.
“Here, I made enough for two.” She handed him a plate of warm panna and ducked quickly out from between his intimidating bulk and the counter.
The Commander followed her slowly into the tiny dining area. “Thank you for preparing first meal,” he said as he joined her at the small table. “You realize that I don’t expect you to do these domestic chores?”
“I understand, Commander. I’ve experienced a lot of interesting things through the reconditioner, and I’m anxious to try them in real life,” she replied quietly. “But if you don’t like it, I can make something else.”
“It’s wonderful,” he said quickly, taking a bite of the thick-crusted tart. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Actually, I’m finding that I enjoy doing homey things,” she admitted shyly. “I lived in an orphanage until the war. After that…well, I never had a choice about what to eat or how I’d like my food prepared. Just having food was a luxury.” Willa shuddered remembering that last harsh, lonely winter she’d spent on Earth.
He frowned at her thoughtfully as he slowly chewed his food.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“I’m not familiar with your term ‘orphanage’. What does it mean?”
After all these years, the sting of early rejection had lessened, though it wasn’t entirely gone. She didn’t know her parent’s circumstances, but intellectualizing that they’d probably done the best thing for her was different from feeling that way. “An orphanage is a home for children without parents,” Willa answered stiffly, dropping her eyes to her plate.
“Who takes care of the children if there are no parents?” The Commander reached across the table to lift her chin with a careful finger, his golden stare intense.
“I was one of the lucky ones,” she said the affirming words for herself as much as for him. “I spent the first eleven years of my life in a Catholic children’s home.”
She studied him for any sign of what he was thinking. He surprised her by taking her tart from her plate and holding it to her mouth, waiting until she’d taken a bite and swallowed before resuming his own meal.
“Continue,” he commanded softly.
“Well, the Sisters, what they called the females who cared for us, owned a working farm. I loved being outside and watching things grow, working in the gardens or with the animals.” Willa smiled, thinking back over those early years. “For me, it was a wonderful childhood; though, it wasn’t exactly easy,” she said wistfully. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Your enjoyment of the outdoors made you feel fortunate?” Lines of confusion marred his forehead once more.
“No, I was blessed because I had someone like Sister Mary Felicia to help me through the process of learning to love myself and accept my circumstances,” Willa explained. “Also, I learned how to survive off of the land and to cope in group-home situations. After the males went to war on Earth and the governments forced everyone else into government camps, a lot of people had a hard time adjusting.”
Cocking his head to the side, he studied her thoughtfully. “If there are other things you’d like to try, send me a list or com me. I will do my best to accommodate you,” he promised g
ruffly, rising to clear their plates.
“Really?” She trailed behind him as he prepared to leave.
“Of course.” He shot her an irritated look. After a short pause, he continued, “I want you to be happy with me, Willa.”
“I’ve been keeping a list,” she relayed excitedly. “I’ll go over it and com you after my lessons today.” There was so much she wanted to sample, she wasn’t sure where to begin.
Commander Tiron chuckled before giving her the daily reminder, “Keep the locks engaged. Remember, it is not safe to leave this cabin unless there is an emergency. The males on this ship are some of the most aggressive Warriors in service, and each would dearly love a female of his own to prepare his first meal…among other things.”
“Yes, Commander.” Willa drew an X over her heart with her pointer finger and gave him a friendly wave goodbye.
Making sure the door was secure, Willa mused over his words. Whatever motivated the Commander, they were settling in nicely, she decided.
**
“No!” Willa heard the muffled shout as soon as she surfaced from the induced hypnotic state of the reconditioner’s language lesson.
“I mean it! Stay away from me!” The angry screech came through the wall next to her. It sounded like a female voice and the words were definitely in English, not Corian Standard. Something thumped heavily against the divider. Willa realized with a sinking heart that there must be another Claimed female in the next cabin over.
Sitting up on the recliner-like seat of the reconditioner, she pressed her ear to the partition and listened. If the Warrior next door was abusing his female, she needed to let the Commander know. He wouldn’t allow that, she felt sure.
A deep voice rumbled, but Willa couldn’t make out the words. Another tooth-rattling thud next to where she listened startled her, pushing her to action.
Grabbing up her canes, she found the hover screen and opened a channel to Commander Tiron’s office.
“Willa, hello.” His scarred visage regarded her steadily. “What’s wrong?”
“I think someone is being hurt next door,” she blurted out.