Embrace the Passion: Pets in Space 3

by Smith, S. E.

  But you are going to offer her your ship. You know she won’t be able to fly it unless-

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” A’ryk interrupted.

  And you put her in the chamber. That wouldn’t have worked-

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

  H’tch thought he knew what was and wasn’t possible. He wasn’t so sure now. The fact that she was human was unfortunate, but should A’ryk deny himself his one and only mate? The woman was young, maybe ten rotations younger than A’ryk. She probably didn’t even fight in the war. You can no more deny this than K’mi can.

  “K’mi is not bonded to her either. Are you trying to make me angry?” A’ryk huffed.

  I don’t have to. You’re angry enough on your own.

  H’tch was repulsed by the human. He’d fought in that bloody war alongside his alpha, ferocious and earning every description of being a Korthan Hellhound. But ten rotations alone on a planet raising a cub helped put some things into perspective.

  Children should not be punished for things their fathers did. K’mi was every bit as innocent as this human woman was. He would not deny her bond with the human, even if he ultimately disapproved. As far as his alpha was concerned? A’ryk was going to have to figure it out.

  3

  Lyra’s head snapped into wakefulness. Rubbing her temples, she winced at the stinging sensation in her fingers. The bandages grated against the raw burns there. Damn, so she hadn’t been having a nightmare; she was still living it.

  Soft snoring sounded from the end of the raised ice platform. Curled like a housecat, whiskers and paws twitching, soft feather-like fur caressing her toes, the blue and white mogha was asleep at her feet.

  She could see where the fingers would extend from the paws and she remembered a drawing from a veteran of the war, an image of a ferocious hellhound standing over its victim, its fingers around his throat, blood dripping from its fangs. She never experienced the deadly impulses of a hellhound first hand, but it was hard to see this snoring, cuddly housecat harming even a fly.

  She resisted the urge to curl her toes into its fur while simultaneously resisting the urge to rub its ears. Feeling a strange sort of kinship with this creature, she felt responsible for it, the need to help and protect it winding through her heart.

  Had to be the bond. Why else would she want a sentient creature she just met to follow her everywhere she went?

  Doubt seeded her mind. Would K’mi want to follow her? Every indication pointed to yes, but would that change if K’mi had to spend the rest of her life around other humans? Hellhounds of Korth weren’t exactly acceptable human companions. Judging by the Korthan’s reactions, she had the sneaking suspicion humans weren’t acceptable mogha companions either.

  She didn’t give a rat’s eye what the savage thought. Maybe the only approval that mattered would be K’mi’s father. With or without it, if K’mi wanted to come with her, she’d kidnap the animal if she had to.

  Lyra’s stomach growled. She really needed to get back to her ship. There was plenty of food in the survival pod, assuming it survived the crash. Hospitality around here likely only went so far. Even so, she couldn’t eat Korthan food anyway.

  Slowly swinging her legs off the side of the makeshift bed, she cringed when the inside door swung open. Enter the savage, all malice and scowling.

  K’mi’s head snapped up, long antennae standing on end. The feather-like tufts at the top drooped a little and Lyra realized that meant the animal felt relaxed. H’tch trotted after him and greeted K’mi with a nose nuzzle.

  The Korthan spared her a quick glance. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

  Lyra pursed her lips. “I can’t just sleep on demand. I’m not a half robot cyborg.”

  He was crossing the room towards the heavier door on the other side, but he whipped around, white eyes piercing her gaze. “What do you know of cyborgs?”

  She shrank a little, then sat up straight. This man couldn’t intimidate her. “Nothing, actually.”

  It was true. She’d heard legends of cyborg soldiers, but that was all they were, legends.

  He turned and stalked towards the door again. Yanking up a padlock on the shelf next to it, he pulled a large bar down across the entryway. Once secured, he locked it down with the padlock, pulling on the bar, clearly making sure it was indeed secure.

  Lyra scowled. “Oh, so I am your prisoner.”

  The savage snorted. “I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here. I keep these moghas safe from the monsters out there. The door has to be locked so we aren’t eaten in our sleep.”

  Lyra resisted rolling her eyes. “Now I’ll be able to sleep for sure.”

  The thought was disconcerting, but she didn’t believe him.

  It’s true, K’mi said from beside her, right beside her. The mogha’s breath tickled her face as it spoke. She leaned away. That was too close. There are scary long-toothed bear monsters out there.

  H’tch yapped softly at the Korthan. Was he telling him what K’mi was saying?

  “Yea, right,” Lyra did roll her eyes this time. “The only monster I see is the one in here.”

  K’mi bowed her head and Lyra was startled to feel sadness emanating from the mogha. The animal was upset she didn’t believe her.

  “I don’t care what you believe,” the savage said, ignoring her quip. “The door remains locked.”

  He rummaged through the inside of his fur clothing before producing something that looked like a root. He threw it at her. “Eat. Tomorrow we go to your ship and you’ll call off the colonists.”

  She scooted away from the root as if it were a snake. “I can’t eat that. It’s poisonous.”

  The Korthan let out a sharp laugh. “You actually believe that propaganda?”

  “Propaganda?”

  “Yes, that humans can’t eat Korthan food.”

  “We can’t. Everyone knows that.”

  “Suit yourself,” the Korthan shrugged, stomping towards the inside door.

  Lyra picked up the root between her thumb and forefinger, sniffing. Was he actually trying to be hospitable?

  As the savage left the room, she said, “Wait, do you have a name?” She’d never quit thinking of him as a savage, but it would be easier to know his name.

  He stopped outside the door. “Monster, evidently.” Then disappeared down the hall with his companion.

  Great, he thinks he’s funny.

  His name’s A’rk, K’mi said. He is funny sometimes.

  Cue the helpful mogha. Lyra, despite herself, smiled at the animal. K’mi perked up at the acknowledgment, tail wagging. Her stomach growled again.

  You really should eat that, K’mi said. It’s not poisonous.

  “It’s not poisonous for you,” Lyra said.

  You either, K’mi insisted. Just try it.

  Lyra held it up in the air, as if elevation would make it more appetizing. Was it really propaganda that Korthan food was poisonous to humans? Should she even trust the savage?

  He could have easily let her die in her ship, and he’d had plenty of opportunity to kill her since then. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to poison her now. Plus he was still demanding she contact the colonists.

  She took an experimental lick. K’mi snickered.

  “What’s so funny?” she said.

  You’re acting like just holding it is going to kill you and then licking it, K’mi’s giggles filled the air. You’re funny.

  Sighing, Lyra took a bite. Flavor unlike anything she tasted before exploded in her mouth. It was like eating a kiwi and a strawberry at once, followed by a cinnimony, nutty, earthy root flavor.

  “Wow,” she breathed. Stomach growling again, she devoured ravenously, amazed at how full she felt. Nothing this good could be poisonous. She figured she’d know soon enough.

  See? It’s really good, K’mi said.

  “I’m sorry,” Lyra said.

  Getting back to her ship tonight was
paramount. She wanted to get apologies for hurting K’mi’s feelings out of the way and then convince the animal to get the key to the padlock, assuming she wasn’t about to die from eating the food.

  K’mi studied her a second. No, you’re not. You want something.

  Damn, this bond was pretty intrusive.

  “Okay, I do,” Lyra admitted. “But I do feel bad for hurting your feelings.”

  K’mi leaned forward, presenting her left ear. Getting the hint, Lyra reached out and rubbed the back of it. Feather soft, the long antenna on the end wrapped around her fingers, sliding between them, feather-like tufts at the end winding up in the palm of her hand.

  K’mi’s left leg thumped the surface of the fur covered ice bed. Apology accepted, she purred. So, how about I get the key when A’ryk falls asleep?

  4

  Subroutine 578 Initializing. Combat Ready in Three…Two...One…

  In the moment of awareness, just before full consciousness, A’ryk was puzzled. None of his combat systems had come online in a very long time.

  A roar reverberated in the space around him, so loud it was tangible against his skin. No more thoughts, just action, combat subroutines coming fully alive as he propelled his body to his feet.

  H’tch was beside him in an instant, their bond so wide open thoughts were nearly one. During the Invader War, before The Fall, they’d fought side by side countless times. Even after a decade, they fell back into it effortlessly.

  An enormous beast stood before them, two heads taller than A’ryk, baring its long saber teeth. Roaring again, it reared up on short back legs, swiping at him with enormous paws, reach wide from its longer front legs.

  H’tch darted in, jaws clamping onto its swiping arm. As it tried to bite his neck with saber teeth, the mogha let go, A’ryk’s turn to jump in, ducking under long arms and stabbing twice before retreating again.

  A better weapon would be nice about now, A’ryk wasn’t sure if it was his thought or H’tch’s, the sentiment shared by both.

  In the future, he’d keep a blaster by his bed instead of a knife. To be fair, no deadly creatures had ever attacked him in his sleep. Locking the door always did the trick. Besides, he did have a blaster in the room, on the wall across from the bed, currently being blocked by the beast.

  The creature pounded its chest, roar deafening.

  H’tch already knew what A’ryk was thinking, circling to the beast’s right as A’ryk went left. The giant’s head swiveled, trying to watch them each. The beast couldn’t attack both at once, so whichever one he did attack, the other would grab the blaster. Blood from its wounds dripped to the floor.

  The mogha charged in, the bear turning to counterattack, but when A’ryk made a run for the back of the room, it attacked him instead. A’ryk was slammed against the wall, face covered in drool as deadly clashing teeth snapped inches away.

  If it weren’t for his enhanced bone structure, he would have been crushed. He gripped the beast’s neck, enhanced strength keeping him from getting his head bitten off.

  There was a flash, the sound of laser shots splitting the air, then the beast went limp. The smell of burning hair and scorched flesh filled his nostrils.

  “Stars, it’s about time,” he said, throwing the dead weight off and seeing H’tch standing on hind legs, blaster held between the extended fingers of his front paws.

  Moghas couldn’t usually shoot a blaster, especially since they didn’t have opposable thumbs, but A’ryk’s blaster was modified so his mogha could accomplish it.

  H’tch tossed the blaster to him, falling back on all fours. You’re welcome, you ungrateful aft.

  The mogha turned and ran out the door. A’ryk knew the well-being of the only other thing that mattered to H’tch – his cub – must be in the forefront of his mind.

  When A’ryk caught up with him in the front room, he was standing by the empty ice bed, sniffing the air. Wind blew from the open door, contents of the room swirling in its currents. How did the beast get past his defenses?

  Unbidden regret seeped into A’ryk’s heart, replaced quickly with anger as he realized there was no blood, no sign of a struggle whatsoever. K’mi and the human woman were not eaten or harmed by the creature in any way. That could only mean one thing-

  He rushed back to his room, relieved to see the table next to his bed wasn’t disturbed in the scuffle. Throwing the drawer open, he simply stood there, staring at the contents. No key.

  “What was K’mi thinking?” His lip twisted. Only a mogha with a true bond with an alpha could be convinced into something this careless. He heard H’tch’s soft steps behind him. “Where did they go?”

  I don’t know, H’tch said.

  “You are her sire, you should know.”

  Yes, but now that she has an alpha, the parent bond grows weaker. I had no idea, H’tch sat.

  A’ryk gave him a measuring glance. This admission meant that K’mi’s bond with the human was real. Unable to deny the possibility any longer, his heart felt heavy, yet something he couldn’t name also lingered.

  “I think we both know the only place Lyra would have wanted to go,” H’tch said.

  * * *

  No wonder the mogha had looked so dubious earlier. Lyra’s ship was scrapped. Heat still smoldered from the warped, melted wreck, one engine glowing orange in the darkness.

  She shined her light over gnarled metal with wiring and tubing strewn across the ground. Some might have been salvageable, but not without any major shipyard machinery.

  She knelt on the ground where K’mi had dragged her out of the ship. Her flight suit lay there, along with her helmet, both obviously cut from her body, both scorched and burned beyond repair. How was she not burned beyond recognition? She should not have survived this crash.

  Lyra shuddered. Cold wind blew across her face and she hugged the fur K’mi grabbed out of the savage’s quarters, pulling it tight around her. She didn’t want it, but once they got outside, she quickly threw it around herself.

  The elastic-synth fabric she wore under her flight suit was, thankfully, fully intact and now covering her body. It provided some measure of protection against the elements of any planet she might be on, but was proving to be substandard for the environment on this particular planet.

  Approaching the ship, she threw debris aside, K’mi helping, intuitively knowing what to move as Lyra made her way to what remained of the cockpit. It was astonishing how fast this animal attached itself to her. She never wanted a pet, but this was something different, something more.

  “Why can’t I hear H’tch?” Lyra asked.

  The mogha flipped a piece of metal out of their path. Because a mogha can only bond to one Korthan.

  “But I’m not Korthan,” Lyra said.

  K’mi stopped, studying her extended fingers, uncertainty permeating the bond. But I have imprinted.

  “Yes, something’s definitely going on,” Lyra chuckled.

  The mogha grabbed some wiring with her teeth and pulled to the side. You can’t hear H’tch because he’s not your mogha. He already has an alpha.

  “So, when does it wear off? Do you find another alpha when it suits you?”

  Wear off? K’mi looked confused. Doesn’t wear off. The bond is for life. You’re my alpha forever.

  That seemed unsettling. It could read her mind. And how was Lyra going to take care of this creature for life?

  We take care of each other, K’mi said, conviction in her voice.

  “What if I die? Then you’ll find another alpha?” Lyra investigated a panel on the side of the cockpit, which was mostly intact. The viewscreen was cracked and broken, shards of the transpari-steel falling as she touched the panel.

  I can only imprint on one-, K’mi hesitated, -person in my lifetime. If you die, I will be very sad.

  “Okay,” Lyra said. “I’ll try not to die, then.”

  Please don’t provoke A’ryk. I don’t want him to kill you, K’mi said.

  Lyra laughed. K�
��mi was a very intelligent being, but there was a naivety to her. “If that idiot was going to kill me, he’d have done it already. He’s had plenty of opportunities.”

  The same way the man saved her life for the mogha, he wouldn’t kill her. She’d keep telling herself that. And she was still alive after eating the food too, so he wasn’t trying to poison her.

  See? That, K’mi pointed at her. There’s no need for name calling. Don’t give him an excuse. And I might be naïve, but you have your doubts.

  Lyra ignored her, the panel finally popping open when she wedged a knife into the seams.

  Punching in her code, Lyra waited a few moments. Nothing happened. Curses, even the overrides weren’t functional.

  Making her way to what appeared to be the side of the ship, she was relieved to find the emergency hatch intact. Getting it open was another matter.

  Why couldn’t she have wrecked on a planet with a young strapping ship mechanic? Instead, she was stuck there with an old, lawless, grumpy, rugged, muscular, handsome in a fierce way, savage. Damn, the things she would let him do to her—.

  K’mi threw her a sidelong glance as she shook herself. Holy shit, where did that come from? What kind of desperate was she? It had been a long time, but damn. And he was stupid. She wasn’t attracted to that.

  Maybe it was his gravelly voice, or his eyes—.

  K’mi’s head turned sideways as the mogha gave her a measuring look. Did you fight in the Invader War against the Korthans?

  “What?” Lyra fought from turning her own head sideways. “You mean the Savage War? No, I was too young to fight in the war.”

  The mogha stood taller, as if a great weight had lifted from K’mi and something shifted in their bond. Did it just get stronger? That’s good. Maybe he’ll forgive you being human since you didn’t fight in the war.

  “Forgive me?” Lyra did tilt her head at that, thoroughly confused. There was intent in the bond. What was K’mi playing at? Ignoring for now, Lyra turned back to the hatch. “Do you know how to get through a locked hatch?”