by Ruby Dixon
I think.
But Mardok does not seem to be in a hurry to leave. He is attentively listening to them, and since I cannot understand them, I focus on him. The muscles on his neck and shoulders are covered with a thin tunic, but I remember the sight of all that blue skin and the drawings underneath. This close, I can see the lines of his skull where it meets his thick neck, and admire the shiny covers on his horns. I put a hand on his back, because the scent of him this close is irresistible, and I feel him stiffen at my touch. I can hear his breathing speed up. It sends an answering pulse of excitement through my body, and my khui grows louder, so loud that I feel it is shaking my entire chest with its enthusiasm.
He puts a finger to his lips, indicating quiet. As if I can control my khui? It chooses who to sing to, not me. I do not say this aloud, of course. Instead, I find myself staring at his raised hand. It is the arm that is capped with the shiny stone, like his horns are, and I wonder what the story is behind that. His tail flicks against my leg, its shortened length holding a story of its own.
This male is so full of stories, of mysteries. I cannot wait to find them all out. I sigh happily and press my cheek to his shoulder, pleased. I have not felt this right about a male, ever. The moment I saw him, I knew he was mine. This is why I have never had interest in Taushen, or Sessah. I have been waiting all this time for my Mardok. I slide my arms around his waist, holding him close and breathing in his scent. It does not matter that he is cooler to the touch or that his people are strange. He is mine.
The talking dies away, and Mardok’s hand covers mine, pressing against his stomach. “We can go now. My quarters are just down the hall.”
Does this mean I have to let him go? I pull away from him, and the only thing that makes me happy about that is that he seems reluctant to let me go also.
He takes me by the hand and leads me onward. “What were they talking about?” I ask him, keeping my voice hushed.
Mardok stops at a panel full of lights and begins to tap at buttons. “They were discussing options.”
“Options?”
My mate glances over his shoulder at me. “We’re not equipped to be a rescue ship. They’re trying to figure out if we’ve got enough food or fuel to bring your people with us, and if we do, what happens to our cargo we’ve already been paid for.”
I do not follow some of his words, and shake my head. “Go with you? Go with you where?”
The wall opens, pulling back to reveal a small chamber. In it, I see several large, square objects I do not recognize, and one I do—his furs. This must be where he sleeps. The walls are bare of any pleasant hangings, and the floor has no furs to block the cold. It looks very bare and unfriendly, this cave, and I feel sad for him that he must spend his time in such a place.
He pulls me inside, and the wall shuts behind him. I look around, hugging my arms. It is overwarm in here, like it is in every chamber of this ship. “Do you live here by yourself?”
“Yeah. The others have their own private chambers. We’re a small ship, but not that small.” He moves past me and begins to straighten things on a flat surface—more strange, square shapes. His people must love squares. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.”
“Is it?”
Mardok flashes me a grin and then hurriedly straightens the thin-looking bed furs, then indicates I should sit there. I do, and he sits down across from me on the only stool in the chamber, spinning around. “I’m sorry dinner was such a shitshow.”
I do not know the word, but the meaning is clear. “I did not know your customs. I apologize—”
Mardok looks angry at my words. He leans forward and clasps my hand in his. “There is nothing to apologize for, Farli. The captain did not believe your story, and I think it was all a test. And Trakan? He’s just an asshole. Don’t let them get to you.”
My khui begins to sing a soft song as I become acutely aware of my hand in his. “I will not. But…where do they want to take my people?”
Now Mardok looks confused. “Away from here. Your people are stranded.”
Are we? I had no idea. “I see. I would need to talk it over with my chief.” I am not entirely sure I like the idea, though he and his people seem to think it is a done deal. “Where would we go?”
“Well, I imagine you’d need to go to Homeworld first. That’s a planet called Kes. It’s where our people come from, and it’s the seat of everything. You’d have to go there. Get your records established. From there, I guess you could go to my planet. It’s nice. Lots of green trees, clear waters, many beaches.”
I think of the food at dinner—bland and tasteless. I glance around this chamber, all squares and empty walls. I think of how the others acted at dinner. And I do not want to hurt his feelings, so I just smile. It is clear to me that he will need to live with us, instead of me going to live with him. “Your family is on your world?”
His expression grows distant. He lets go of my hand and sits back. “I don’t have any family left.”
My heart aches for him. “Did you lose them to a sickness? Over twenty turns of the seasons ago, we lost a great many in our tribe to the khui-sickness. I am lucky in that I did not lose my parents or my brothers, but I know many who did.”
“Did you get sick?” he asks me, clearly trying to steer the conversation back toward me.
“I did not. I was a young kit. Very young. My khui was new and strong, I think. Perhaps that helped.”
“Your symbiont?” He leans forward, scooting his stool closer to me, and his gaze fixes on my eyes. I feel the heat pulse through my body again, and I wish he would take my hand once more. I want to put it on my teat again and see if he responds how he did before or if he is interested. Even if he does not resonate to me—yet—I am content to pleasure-mate with him. He is the first male I have wanted to even try it with. Ever since I met him, I can think of nothing but what it would feel like to have him touch me. “Can you feel it inside you?” he asks.
I nod. “Only at certain times. Like now, when it is singing.” I put my hand over my chest. I do not tell him why it is singing. Not yet.
He gives me a slow smile, so stunningly handsome that it takes my breath away. “Singing, eh? I like that.” But then his smile fades. “Farli…I just want to apologize to you for what happened earlier.”
“At dinner?”
“No, not dinner, though someone should definitely apologize for that.” He grimaces and rubs his brow. “For what happened with you…and your pet.”
I tilt my head, curious. “What happened with me and my pet? Something hurt him. It happens. This world is not safe.” I did not see what it was, other than a flash of light.
The look on his face is full of distress, and it makes my heart hurt. “It was me.”
A knot forms in my throat. “You…what?”
“I saw him charging out of the corner of my eye, and I just…reacted.” His eyes are mere slits, his expression haunted. “I…I flashed back to when I was a soldier. Fired without thinking. I’m sorry.”
I do not know what to say. I am aching inside. He was the one that hurt my poor Chahm-pee. The thought fills me with wounded rage…and yet it is clear from his expression that it was an accident. “I see.”
Mardok gets up. “Listen, I’ve probably been in your ear too much already. I’ll leave you alone to get some sleep. You’re probably tired.”
Tired? Not in the slightest. Not with my body humming at his presence and my heart full of conflicting emotions. But all I know is that he did not mean it, and he has done everything he can to make Chahm-pee better. “It is all right, Mardok.”
“It’s not. I’m all keffed in the head.” He heaves a sigh and moves to the wall. “Better that I leave you alone. You’ll be comfortable in here by yourself.”
“You are leaving?” I do not want him to go. Not now. Not ever.
“I need to.” The look on his face is full of self-loathing, and surprising to me. “Been here a day and I’m keffing up your life. I need to t
ake a step back. Leave you alone.”
Leave me alone? “I do not want to be alone, Mardok.”
“You’ll be fine. Get some sleep.” He moves to the wall and gestures at a panel. “I’ll be asleep in the storage room next door. Just hit this red button if you get scared and I’ll come find you.”
Scared? Of the dark? Like a kit? I bite back my amusement, because he’s leaving and I want him to stay. “Do not go, Mardok.”
But he only shakes his head and taps the panel. The wall opens, and he leaves. After a moment, the wall closes again, and I am in his chamber, alone. The novelty of it lasts only a brief moment. I explore his room, touching his things, trying to learn more about him from them. I see no signs of family, no extra tunics or carefully kept toys from siblings grown up. The squares on his desk are puzzling—they open up to nothing but a bunch of white slips with black squiggles on them. I pick one up, smell it, and then put it down again. Smells musty. His furs smell like him, and I climb onto the raised platform of his bedding to wallow in them. Then, when I am tired of sniffing his scent, I get up and approach the panel.
I hit the red button. Something beeps. “I’m coming,” Mardok’s voice calls through the wall, and it sounds strange and hollow. I press my ear to the door, curious. “Where are you? I hear you but do not see you.”
The wall next to me pulls back, and Mardok steps through, looking worried. “Are you all right?”
I pat the wall I have my hands on. “I heard your voice here. How did you get over there?”
His mouth twitches. “I’m not in the wall. That was the intercom.”
“Can we do it again?” I am fascinated. “I want to hear your voice.”
He shakes his head. “Go to sleep. If you’re not scared or you don’t need anything, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Humph. I say nothing as he leaves. The moment the wall shuts, I hit the button again.
There’s a long pause. “Mardok?” I yell into the wall, where his voice came from earlier. “I wish to speak to you.” I hit the button again, then call out, “Come and talk to me.”
This time, the wall does not speak with his voice. The panel opens and he steps inside again, crossing his arms over his chest like I am a naughty kit. “Farli?”
I beam a smile at him. “You are back.”
“Because you won’t stop pushing the button.” He leans against the entrance and sighs heavily. “Are you scared?”
I clasp my hands in front of my chest. “If I say I am, will you stay and talk to me?”
Mardok glances down the hall one way, then the other. Satisfied, he steps inside and lets the panel slide shut behind him. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yes, you should.” My khui begins to sing immediately. This is the perfect place for him to be—with me.
“The captain’s going to have my ass if he finds out.” But he moves past me and heads to one of the squares on the wall, and pulls out extra furs and a pillow. Oh. The squares are storage baskets. How odd. He takes the strange, flat furs and spreads them on the ground next to the bed. “I’ll sleep here, okay? So you won’t be scared.”
I should tell him that I am not scared now, but he will leave. So I just smile brightly at him and move to my bed. “You can sleep up here with me.”
“No,” he says, amusement in his voice. “No, I really can’t. Trust me.”
“I will not take up much room. I promise.”
“No.”
“I am a light sleeper. I will not snore or lash you with my tail—”
“Farli, no. Okay? Just no.” He lies down and fluffs a pillow behind his head. “Go to sleep. Lie down.”
He is determined to send me to bed like a kit, is he not? Frustrating. I lie back in the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
“Lights off,” Mardok says in a low voice.
The entire room dims and grows dark.
I gasp, sitting up. “How—” I am filled with wonder. “Lights on,” I call out, hoping it’ll respond.
“This room is programmed to my voice. Sorry. Get under the covers and go to sleep.” Mardok says. “I can show you how everything works in the morning.”
I lie back again, but it is stifling hot and I am wearing far too many layers for sleeping. Get under the furs? I will sweat a lake if I do. I stare up, wishing Mardok was here with me and wishing he was not so determined to ignore me. Still, if I am to be ignored, at least I can be cooler. I undo the ties at my waist and begin to peel off Niri’s borrowed tunic with the legs built in. If he notices my squirming atop the blankets and their strange platform, he does not say anything. I think he is trying to ignore me to sleep. I finish stripping off the leathers and feel a little cooler. I am still wearing a fine sheen of sweat, but at least my skin can breathe. I blink in the darkness, thinking about my dvisti. “Do you think Chahm-pee is all right?”
“He’s fine. Niri’s got him all patched up. The only thing med bay can’t reproduce quickly is artificial blood, but that should be taken care of by morning.” I hear his blankets rustle as he turns over. “Do you…need to be somewhere? Will your parents be looking for you?”
I chuckle. “Not likely. I have been hunting on my own since I had my first flow.”
He’s quiet. Then, “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you exactly?”
I am amused by the question…but only for a brief moment. Then I realize what it means. He thinks I am a kit. Is this why he pushes me away constantly? He worries I should be at the teat and not trying to claim him as my mate? I swallow my hurt. “I have seen the seasons turn over twenty-two times.”
“And the years are longer here, right?” He exhales deeply. “Thank gods. I was worried for a moment there.”
“How old are you?” I taunt him back.
“Thirty-eight years by my world’s reckoning. I guess I’d be a little over thirty-five of yours.”
I snort. “Barely old enough to be a hunter yourself.” In truth, he is young but in his prime—the perfect age for me. Maybe I’m a little wounded that he thinks I am a silly kit, after all. Is this how Sessah feels around me? I must remember to be nicer to him.
“A hunter, huh?” He chuckles into the dark, and the sound is warm and delicious. “I like that. Beats being a soldier.”
His laughter feels like a caress, and I hate that I am up here on this platform and he is down there. Why can we not be in the furs together? I will gladly sweat in this heat if it means I can touch him. He is just below me, and if I were on the ground, we would be close enough to touch.
On impulse, I move to the edge of the bed and then roll off the side. I land on his chest, and my forehead knocks into his. My khui’s song increases.
“Ooof,” he groans, and then touches my arm. “Are you okay, Farli? Did you fall off?”
“I wanted to visit,” I say. I am breathless with excitement at how close we are. I can taste his scent on the air, and it is making me aroused. My khui just sings and sings, pleased I have found my mate.
Mardok pats my arm, and then he hesitates. His hand moves up to my shoulder, and then his breath hisses out of his lungs. “Are you…naked?”
“It is hot in here,” I tell him. “Too hot to sleep. Is naked a problem? My people are naked whenever they please.” I put my hands on his shoulders. Still clothed. Hmm. If we are going to mate, he is going to need to take some layers off.
“Naked is only a problem if it’s been three years,” he mutters.
“It is just skin.”
“Farli, I shouldn’t be here.” He very gently tries to pry me off of him. “I’m flattered—hell, I’m attracted to you like crazy, too, but we can’t do this.”
I ignore his words, focusing on what I like. “You are attracted to me, too?” It makes me wiggle with pleasure.
He groans, and his hands go to my shoulders, as if trying to hold me still. “Stop moving like that. You’re going to kill me.”
I brush his hands off and lean in, letting my fingers trace his featur
es in the dark. He’s not pushing me away, so I grow bolder. “You like me?” I repeat again. I need to hear him say the words. “You do not think I am too young?”
“I think you’re just too keffing innocent, that’s all. I don’t want to be the one that spoils that.”
“You spoil nothing,” I tell him, and let my fingers wander over his lips. They are surprisingly soft for all of the frowns he tends to do over a day. “Let me be in control of my innocence.”
I can feel him smile under my fingertips. I want to put my mouth there again, to do the mouth-matings and see how he reacts now that we know each other. Will he touch me back this time? I hope so. I slide forward, moving up his chest just a little, and lean forward until my nose bumps against his.
“Farli,” he murmurs. I do not know if it is a protest or encouragement. I will take it as encouragement.
My khui is singing wildly as I bend my head and brush my lips over his. He is motionless underneath me, and so I increase the kiss, letting my lips move over his. I have seen how the others mouth-mate and know that tongues are involved, so I let mine play along the seam of his mouth. He parts his lips, and I take the opportunity to flick my tongue against his.
It feels as if a fire has sparked in my body. Need surges through me, and every nerve ending responds to the feel of his body under mine, his mouth against mine. He hesitates, only for a moment, and then his hands are in my mane and he’s holding me against him as our mouths slant together, our tongues locked in a dance. His tail flicks under the blankets, and a moment later, I feel it wrap around mine. My body is humming with need, and my teats feel tight and achy, and there is a hot pulse between my thighs that will not go away. Over and over, his tongue flicks against mine, until we are both breathless and panting.
“Well,” he says between breaths. “I’m pretty sure we just broke a hygiene law on at least three different planets.”
I giggle. I have no idea what he just said, but I like the wonder in his voice. “It was a good mouth-mating, yes? I liked it. We should do it more.”
He groans. “Have mercy. I won’t be able to control myself if you do that again. Give me a moment to compose myself.” His hands stroke my mane again and then slide down my sides. “Gods, you are really, really naked.”