Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

by Smith, S. E.

  Rhea pulled her hands from his grip and nodded once. “So be it.”

  His brows rose. “You’re not rejecting me now, are you?”

  She tilted her head. “No, human. We will attempt your ways, but make no mistake—” she leaned closer, leveling her eyes with his, and touched the underside of his chin with the tip of a tentacle “—you are mine.”

  Rhea would shred any kraken, male or female, who dared to touch what she considered hers. And this human belonged to her alone.

  Randall’s eyes widened, and he chuckled. “Damn. Guess you don’t mince words, do you?”

  Her gaze dipped to his lips, and she was tempted to discover what a kiss felt like. “I do not know many of your words.”

  “Words aren’t of much importance, compared to actions,” he said. “You claimed me from the moment they brought me into the infirmary, didn’t you?”

  She placed a hand on his chest and slowly slid it down his abdomen toward his pelvis. The hair beneath her palm was soft over his hard muscle. Rhea recalled the first time she saw him, recalled her surprise when she’d lifted his blanket to see his cock on full display as he lay in the infirmary bed. She’d been intrigued, curious, and shocked by her immediate attraction to him.

  The outline of his hardening shaft was visible through his pants. She smiled and met his gaze again. “I did.”

  He cleared his throat and caught her wrist again, guiding her hand away from his pelvis. “Slowly,” he rasped. Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. Her eyes flared. “Humans have some old sayings. Patience is a virtue. Good things come to those who wait. Give this some time, Rhea.”

  She frowned, searching his face, uncertain of what to do, of what to say. This wasn’t how she’d been taught, wasn’t how the kraken did things.

  “You’re interested in me? You want me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

  “Then shouldn’t I be worth some time and effort?” He smiled lopsidedly, and the expression heated her blood.

  Rhea drew back. “You want me to woo you?”

  “I just want us to know each other before we jump into each other’s pants.”

  She glanced down at her lower half, confused by his words once again.

  “It’s an expression,” he said. “I mean before we have sex.”

  “Ah.”

  “Just give it time. Visit tomorrow with Melaina. Let me get to know you both, and we can move on from there.”

  She searched his expression. He sounded earnest, but this situation was unfamiliar to her. Did he not want her as much as she wanted him? His body suggested he desired her, even if his words implied otherwise.

  What would the other females think of her if they knew she was almost begging a male to mate with her? A human male, no less, when there were several kraken males she could choose from at any moment.

  She finally nodded; the opinions of the other females were meaningless. “We will come tomorrow.”

  Randall released her hand and stepped back, offering a nod of his own. “Good. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  4

  Randall laid another fillet atop the flat grill. The meat sizzled, its scent adding to the already mouthwatering aroma of cooking fish. A pot of Halorian lobsters boiled on the stovetop nearby, its steam billowing into the automatic fan overhead.

  “This is going to be some good eating, little guy,” he said.

  Ikaros chirruped from his perch atop the counter. The prixxir lifted a paw and waved it toward the food.

  Grinning, Randall turned to the island counter behind him and sliced a small piece from one of the remaining raw fillets. He tossed the morsel to Ikaros. The prixxir reared back on his hind legs — his limp was all but gone — and caught the meat in his mouth.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t let Melaina feed you quite so much. I swear you’ve gained four kilos since she brought you in.”

  The prixxir lowered his head, dropped the meat onto the countertop, and gnawed at it.

  “Good thing we’re not back at Fort Culver. The only animals allowed on the counters there are the ones that’re about to be cooked.”

  Randall smiled and tended the cooking food as Ikaros ate. He couldn’t deny his excitement. For the first time in the weeks he’d spent in the Facility, he was enjoying himself. That was strange after feeling lost and directionless for so long.

  Ikaros played a large role in that. The prixxir hadn’t left Randall’s side since being rescued by Melaina a week before. Though Randall couldn’t explain the bond he was forming with the creature, he knew it was powerful. At night, Ikaros curled up against him in bed, and had taken to laying over Randall’s feet whenever he was sitting.

  The creature had given Randall companionship, purpose, and made him feel needed. He’d never reflected upon the importance of such things before — he’d had the other rangers, the directive, the hunt; it had been more than enough to keep him distracted. He hadn’t realized how quickly an individual could lose their drive, how quickly a life could lose meaning.

  Ikaros had, after only seven short days, become one of Randall’s truest and closest friends.

  Randall’s sister, Elle, had always filled that role before. Thinking about her now made his chest ache; they’d cooked so many meals together, sometimes getting so caught up in conversation that the food would end up a charred mess. She’d been the only one he could ever confide in. And he hadn’t seen her in months.

  He checked the time on the wall display. Rhea and Melaina would arrive soon; after they’d visited him in his quarters for four consecutive days, he’d decided a change of scenery would be nice, and had invited them to join him in the mess hall for a meal. He wasn’t sure what he’d found more endearing — Melaina’s excitement at the prospect of eating cooked food, like she sometimes did with Macy, or Rhea’s almost comical reluctance. The kraken had eaten everything raw before Macy’s arrival, and only Jax, Arkon, and Melaina had been willing to sample cooked meat thus far.

  His growing appreciation of Rhea’s company was the other component to his change in mood and the reason for his current eagerness. She presented a hard, no-nonsense exterior that would have been welcomed amongst Fort Culver’s rangers, but her personality didn’t stop there — the kindness and compassion beneath her outer toughness were staggering.

  After tossing another chunk of fish to Ikaros, Randall seasoned the fillets with a few pinches of the spices Aymee had sent to Macy from The Watch, careful not to use too much — there was a limited supply, and he wasn’t sure how Rhea and Melaina would react to their taste.

  Rhea’s advances had been so strong and forward that Randall had been taken aback by them, caught totally off-guard and unprepared. It had been a direct confrontation with the strangeness of his situation and the otherness of the kraken.

  Randall was attracted to Rhea. There was no denying that fact, especially after she’d seen the evidence with her own eyes. The silky touch of her hand on his abdomen had nearly sent him over the edge, and only his own confusion had held him back; was it right to want her? To give in to those urges? To his father, such would be considered bestiality at best, a betrayal of humanity, a violation of natural law.

  But the more he learned about her, the more he saw her, the less alien she seemed. The kraken were part human, and their human qualities became more evident to him as time passed. Rhea’s differences — cast in the light of her compassion, of her resilience, of her confidence — were marks of beauty unlike any he’d ever encountered.

  Was he even capable of pleasing her? Her anatomy, though similar in its basic form to a human woman’s, was still different, and Randall wasn’t built like a kraken male.

  More than anything, he needed to know that their mating wasn’t merely a matter of Rhea sating her curiosity. From the little he understood about kraken culture, the females chose males based on their ability to protect and provide.

  Randall hadn’t proven himself a capable
provider. They all sure as hell knew he couldn’t stand against any of the kraken in a physical confrontation, and he’d never even seen the monstrous sea creatures the kraken sometimes spoke of battling in the open water. He hadn’t given her any reason to choose him; being different, being human, couldn’t be enough.

  And he needed to know that it wouldn’t just be an exploration of curiosity on his end, either. He needed to know his interest in her was more than a fleeting lust for the exotic.

  Ikaros stood up and spun around, looking through the wide, open window between the kitchen and the mess hall. An instant later, Randall heard the sound of tentacles moving over the floor — usually soft and subtle, but quite distinct from the Facility’s ambient sounds.

  “I’m in here,” Randall called, scooping the finished fillets onto a tray.

  At the edge of Randall’s vision, Ikaros lowered his stance, swept back his long whiskers, and released a warbling growl. He’d never heard the prixxir make such a sound; the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood.

  Randall turned to the window to see Kronus — the most vocal of the anti-human kraken — approaching with a pair of his followers. The ochre-skinned kraken scowled at the table Randall had unfolded and placed near the kitchen, shoving it aside as easily as he might’ve tossed a pebble into a river.

  These were the kraken who most resisted change. Who resented it.

  The trio moved toward the entryway into the kitchen. Ikaros’s growl deepened, and the prixxir retreated closer to the edge of the counter.

  “That’s close enough,” Randall said, dropping a hand to the pistol on his hip.

  Kronus stopped and glared at Randall through the window, skin taking on a crimson tinge. “You do not give me orders, human.”

  When Rhea said human, it was an endearment. From Kronus’s mouth it was filthy, derogatory, and brimming with malevolence.

  Randall unfastened the holster’s retaining strap and wrapped his fingers around the pistol’s grip. Kronus wasn’t the biggest of his kind, or the strongest, but Randall had seen the kraken’s capabilities. Even with a half-wall and three or four meters of distance between himself and Kronus, the danger was immediate.

  If the kraken got anywhere within reach, Randall would be dead in a fraction of a second.

  “It’s not an order. Just a warning,” he said.

  “Shoot, human,” one of the others said, lips spread into a wide, razor-sharp grin. “It will only give us reason to tear you apart.”

  “You stay where you are, and I won’t have any reason. But if you have other plans…you’d best ask yourselves if you’re willing to die today. Because I guarantee, one of you will be dead before the other two get here.” Randall slid the firearm from the holster but kept the barrel pointed down. His heart thumped. It wasn’t fear; this was the beginning of an adrenaline high. “If you have business with me, I’m more than willing to talk. I’m sure we can all keep it friendly.”

  A brown kraken broke away from the group and moved to the open doorway, filling the space with his muscular frame. He ducked as though to enter the kitchen.

  Ikaros leapt to the floor, raising his spine fin and whiskers and growling beside Randall’s feet.

  Randall picked up a knife off the table with his free hand and threw it without hesitation. It embedded itself in the doorframe, centimeters from the brown kraken’s head.

  Snarling, the kraken bared his teeth and lifted his claws, skin turning red. “The human struck first.”

  Kronus crossed his arms over his chest. “We have borne witness to this attack.”

  “You’ve witnessed a second warning,” Randall said. “If I’d attacked, his brains would be splattered on the floor behind him. I’ll say this one more time: if you have business with me, I’m willing to talk, but you’re going to back the hell up first.”

  The brown kraken lunged forward. Time seemed to slow as Randall raised his pistol. He wished he hadn’t experienced moments like this so often over the last few months, wished that he wasn’t staring his own death in the eyes once again, especially now that he’d found a new reason to live.

  A tentacle wrapped around the kraken’s throat from behind. His upper body pivoted backwards, at odds with the forward momentum of his lower half, and then he was swung around and shoved away from the entrance, sprawling onto his back.

  Rhea imposed herself in the doorway with her back turned to Randall. Her skin was a vibrant red, and her face was in profile as she glared at Kronus and the other kraken.

  Tentacles writhing, the brown kraken flipped himself onto his front, pushed up on his hands, and bared his teeth at Rhea.

  “You have defied myself and Dracchus again,” she said.

  “Your pet human attacked without provocation,” Kronus growled.

  “Krullshit,” Randall said. “I gave you clear boundaries, and you chose to cross them. Can’t blame me for your inability to follow simple instructions.”

  Rhea turned her head toward the brown kraken, who was lifting himself off the floor. “Is this true, Neo?”

  Neo rubbed his throat before pointing toward the doorway. “We are not restricted from entering a room!”

  Rhea stared at Neo. “What need have you to enter this room? Were you intending to cook your next meal?” She looked between the three of them. “I see no food.”

  “The humans have begun corrupting our females, as well,” Neo spat. “Beware, Rhea. Your slit will not protect you from retribution now that you have chosen to betray our people along with the others.”

  Rhea narrowed her eyes and advanced toward Neo. “You dare speak to me so?”

  Neo’s brows fell, and his jaw muscles bulged. He was larger and undoubtedly stronger than Rhea, but kraken society valued the females — precious few in number — over the males. When it came to her, his threats were all bluster, and he knew it.

  Randall shifted his pistol, training it on the other two kraken through the window; his fascination with the confrontation couldn’t be allowed to hinder his awareness.

  The male beside Kronus moved forward slowly, inserting himself between Neo and Rhea. His tan skin turned yellow as he bowed his head.

  “Apologies, Rhea,” he said. “We were curious about what the human was doing. Neo wanted to look closer, but the human threw a knife at him.” He raised his head and shifted closer to Rhea, brushing the back of his fingers down her arm. The yellow of his skin gave way to maroon. “I would make a good protector for you and Melaina. My den is empty, and I will gladly share it with you.”

  Rhea’s skin reverted to its usual gray.

  The nuances of kraken social interaction were mysterious to Randall; he didn’t understand how the conversation had taken such a sudden, unexpected turn. But he did understand the twisting, forceful weight in his gut, and the fire in his chest. This wasn’t about the implication that he’d make a poor mate, though that stung on its own. No, this was about someone attempting to take Rhea. To seduce her.

  “She already claimed her male,” Randall said, approaching the doorway, “and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

  The male in front of Rhea laughed. “You are not strong enough to protect this female and her youngling.” His hands settled on Rhea’s hips. “You cannot please a female, and you cannot even dance as we do. You are weak.” Two of his front tentacles lifted to brush along Rhea’s.

  “Maybe not.” Randall stepped through the doorway into the mess hall, aiming the pistol at the kraken in front of Rhea. “But she claimed me anyway. And I’m a damned good shot, if nothing else. Keep your hands on my female if you want to find out just how good.”

  The male growled.

  Kronus moved forward. “You cannot claim our females!”

  “You might not have noticed, but we humans do things a little differently.”

  The nearness of the male kraken should’ve been terrifying, but adrenaline pumped through Randall’s veins, fueled by his anger. He’d been given no choice other than to stay in thi
s place, and he was tired of walking on eggshells, tired of being treated like an inferior creature, of being looked at like some disgusting insect. If the kraken understood strength, he’d show it to them in the only ways he could.

  “Rhea?” asked the male holding her.

  Rhea grinned, her blue eyes bright with mirth and pride. “You heard the same words as I, Volk. The human belongs to me, and he has claimed me in turn.”

  Volk’s skin flashed red, then violet before he abruptly released her and backed away. He clenched his jaw and fisted his hands at his sides.

  Rhea moved behind Randall, settling her hands on his waist and running a tentacle up and down his leg. His heart beat faster, and his skin tingled at her touch.

  She leaned forward and pressed her cheek against his. “I have made my choice. Now, must I remind you again that these humans are under protection? I will not take kindly to you threatening them further. Nor will Dracchus, Jax, and Arkon.”

  Behind Randall, the prixxir growled. Randall shifted his gaze to see Neo, eyes locked on Ikaros, approaching slowly.

  “The prixxir is under my protection,” Randall said. “Don’t touch him.”

  Neo glared at Randall. He cast one more look at the prixxir and moved toward Kronus, but not before spitting at Rhea’s tentacles.

  Rhea flared red and lunged toward Neo, but Randall wrapped an arm around her. Her strength and momentum nearly dragged him off-balance, yet he somehow held on and brought her to a halt. He tugged her against him.

  Kronus narrowed his eyes. “I am not sure which of you is the other’s keeper, but it is pathetic either way.”

  “No one will want a slit contaminated by human seed,” Neo added.

  The male kraken turned away and exited the mess hall, casting numerous scowling glares over their shoulders as they moved.