by Amanda Milo
Like a lightening strike.
...Or it’s Z.
Being dragon.
He exhales another burst of smoke, and when he’s able to finally recover and close his mouth from shock, it comes out of his nose.
I look up at him, my chin resting in his cupped fingers now.
“Zadeon?”
His eyes look liquid. Hopeful, and terrified, and excited.
And…
In love.
Worry for me knits his big brow.
And I want to get past this. I don’t want to be… revolted at his skin anymore. I’m not so in my head that I don’t recognize how it makes him feel when I flinch every time it brushes up against me.
Arokh wraps an arm around Angie’s front as they watch Zadeon and me. She smiles a little. “Sometimes, when you get out of your own way, it looks like you actually like him.”
I shake Zadeon’s tail spines in emphasis when I shout, “I do like him!” I feel like I’m defending him as much as I am me.
“Good. Keep reminding yourself that - consciously start reminding yourself that; and I don’t know - is it exposure therapy? Touch the scales and think: Dragon.”
“Yeah, yeah - I heard you.”
Now I just need to do it.
CHAPTER 29
ZADEON
Torn between wanting to honor my mate’s interest and investment in this conversation, I don’t shut down this discussion - although I don’t care for how they are ganging up on my female.
It is clear they have been discussing this topic well and prior to ambushing Callie, and I do not appreciate that they sprung this trap over her.
I will not have her rushed.
“Zadeon?”
She tugs my tail to be sure I hear her - my tail, that she hasn’t set aside since she took ahold of it back in the commons area.
I strongly suggested we return to our den so that she can process without their meddling. Their potentially harmful meddling.
“It’s okay, Z. I want to do this.”
I stumble. “No. You aren’t ready.”
She gives my tail another tug. “You’re not listening to me. I want to.”
“A desire to do something is not the same a feeling a desire. You do not want to confuse the two.” I usher her into our den, then close and hesitantly bar the door.
I feel ‘keyed up’, as she calls it.
I wonder if she would like to go back to the fitness chamber.
She smiles. “You’re actually trying to talk me out of this.”
Then her face turns serious and she says, “You have kind eyes.”
Inexplicably uncomfortable, I drop my gaze and step backward, tugging my tail right out of her grasp.
Did I just break eye contact first? I never do that - not with anyone, not unintentionally. I bring my head up sharply only to be alarmed as I see her take a step towards me.
I take another step back.
“Angie was right to call me on it.”
“No - she had no reason to attack you. You need time-”
“How much time?”
“I don’t…” I swallow. “I don’t know.”
She spreads her hands. “See, that’s the thing. Neither do I. I’m not Crispin. But we’ve talked a bit now. And I’m not Gracie, but I think I know some of what’s going on there. I have to figure out me. And Angie is right - I’ve been casting you as… as them in my head sometimes.”
Pain flares across my chest like a bullwhip lash.
She brings a hand up and massages the spot over her heart.
“But you’re nothing like them at all, Z.” Her bottom lip disappears as she brings her mostly flat teeth down over it in some sort of punishing display. And now she isn’t letting me break eye contact. She angles her head to keep our gazes locked. Her sincerity doesn’t only show; it shines. “I know that, Z. I do. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I stop backing away from her. “You have nothing to apologize for!”
She shakes her head. “I do. I made you feel bad about yourself. I… I’ve seen you cover yourself in suits or with the blanket so that I wouldn’t have to… see your scales. And I knew it was wrong! I felt guilty every time but I was so relieved - I didn’t stop you. That’s horrible, Zadeon. I’m horrible!”
I reach out - then stop. “You aren’t.”
She points to my suspended hands. “See that? You’re afraid to touch me most of the time. You hardly do. We danced together for hours but you never touched me, not once. I did that to you. That’s not right. You’ve done nothing to deserve that.”
When she steps forward again, I move back - only for my hocks to hit the side of the bed. My knees buckle and I drop, the mattress depressing deeply under my weight.
When I see her hands fisting nervously I know it’s time to put a stop to this. “Enough. You don’t have to do this.”
This only seems to spur her resolve. “We’re doing it.”
I swallow again and watch her warily. “We’re doing what, exactly?”
She smiles. “I was just going to kiss you - but then you made me chase you all across the room. You’re really, really-”
My tail crosses in front of me, flicking.
“Cute,” she finishes and my thigh muscles jump in reaction to the soft look that comes over her face. “You actually look… nervous. You look adorably nervous.”
I catch myself starting to look down again - again! - but I force myself to lift my gaze, and see her smile widen.
It makes my hearts race faster and feel a little thready at the same time.
She leans back to take in my appearance. “You’re changing color!”
I am? I look down; my arms are flushed. I feel it in my face, too. I bring a hand up to my horn, and grip the curve anxiously. “I’ve never done this before.”
She appears nonplussed. “Done what?”
Perhaps I’m mistaken about her intentions. “Are you…” I breathe such a large sigh of relief that she silently laughs - or maybe she makes noise, but I cannot hear it. “I thought for a moment you were going to force yourself to mate me.”
Now her laughter dies. “Yeah. You know? I will. I am.”
My body is at once tense again.
She will force herself?
“No.”
“...No?”
My instincts clamor at me to revoke that word.
I refuse to.
“No,” I repeat firmly. “I have seen this kiss performed and I will agree to that but nothing else.”
She looks stuck between shock and laughter.
But she no longer appears half afraid.
Smells nothing of it, in fact.
“Not if you have to force yourself.”
She winces. “That came out wrong. Trust me. I just mean…”
Absently, her fingers move to a bite scab on her arm - but she doesn’t itch it as she tries to put herself to words. “Here I thought I was the one that was going to be a ball of nerves but look at you,” and I see her tongue dart up to her top lip as the ends quirk upward, “You’re having enough for both of us and I think it’s actually… helping me.”
“How so?”
Those furred ridges climb on her forehead. “I guess because… because I feel like this really is my decision now and if I want to do this…” she meets my gaze. “I have to be the one to initiate.”
I can say nothing.
“Let’s back up though… do you mean you’ve never been with a woman- uh, obviously not a human but a ‘female’ before? At all?”
I feel the weight of my horns more than ever when I shake my head. “I’ve had more opportunity than most but… I never wanted to. I am yours. I have always been yours.” There is no shame in admitting that I have never been with a female - it is the reality for most males of all species. Females are a rarity nearly everywhere. Breeding is brutal with many species. Birthing is hard no matter the medical advancements. Rearing to adulthood is fraught with dangers.
&nb
sp; In the end, few females to start with, fewer make it past adolescence, and many are lost before their prime.
And few are the males that are selected to enjoy life with them.
I wasn't simply selected. We are fated.
Yet she seems shocked at this.
Though not even for the reason I suspect.
“You had ‘more opportunity than most’?”
Her voice sounds a little strained.
Ah. Sometimes she does display traits similar to Gryfala. However, possessiveness is a trait I very much wish her to feel over me.
I shrug. “I was highly sought-after after battles. I never joined with a female though, and certainly no Gryfala.”
Callie suddenly drops to the floor, folding her legs as she goes, just like she did so long ago. Her descent is still graceful, if so rapid as to be startling.
Now that she’s not poised over me, I find I can relax.
At least a little.
“Why not?”
I’m still admiring her form. “Hmm?”
“Why not any of them?”
“They weren’t you.”
She grabs my tail and stills it. “What am I?”
I revel in her touch. “The other half of my soul.”
CHAPTER 30
CALLIE
“Is it a normal thing here for aliens to dream about their… other halves?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I drop my hands into my lap, still clutching his tail. “You’ve never asked anyone else? Ever?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He shrugs and his ear, the one with holes in it, snaps itself twice like it has an itch. “I knew you were for me, Callie. Our souls have knit: that is everything I need. I don’t care about anyone else.”
I try to imagine this scenario on earth:
‘Hi Wilson, I’m Tim, and over there is my wife. We've dreamed about each other all our lives - even before we ever met in person.’
‘Wow, Tim, that’s incredible. Want to talk about it?’
Tim shrugs. ‘Just did.’
Men.
And yet… isn’t it that simple? It doesn’t matter what others do or don’t have; this is what we have.
In fact, it might be safest for him if no one knows about this. Dohrein’s words replay through my mind. “They’d have to put him down… he has a number of oddities that, while interesting, are not easily controlled…”
If nobody else dreamed of their mate - dreamed with their mate - from another galaxy, and they don’t know that Zadeon did? Maybe it’s best that they don’t find out.
And really, I could take a page here from Z’s book. Don’t spend time worrying about others; just focus on what’s important.
I look at him. At who’s important.
He’s watching me with something like trepidation. Like if he takes his eyes off of me, he’s half afraid that I’m going to jump him. “Zadeon, do you want to do this?”
“Only if you do.”
I give that the weight it deserves. “I… do. Why do you look so freaked?”
He is so good with human slang I wonder just how much he has seen and heard in his dreams of me - either that, or he picks it up from the conversations I have with the other women.
He plants his fists on his knees, his big knuckles jutting up when he clenches them. “I’ve dreamed of you for so long… I just… need this to be good with you.”
“And you think it won't be good? Really?”
I’m a little offended on our fated-coupledom’s behalf.
He moves like he intends to grab my hands - but then he shows his palms instead. “No, I want this to be - need this to be - good for you.”
Looking into his warm, concerned eyes? Right then, I know it will be.
Why did I let something become a hangup between us? I have feelings for this male. Real, bone-deep feelings that I’ve had all my life.
Sure, I thought he was a melody in my dreams but upon finding out otherwise, and seeing him the first time… Why didn’t I think dragon before?
Because of them.
If it hadn’t been for them, I never would have been so fucked up-
I clutch his tail tighter; so familiar to me now. Reassuring. I look down at it. Examining it. The scales are so tiny and tightly fit together here that I barely notice them.
It’s the rest of him that starts to get a little crazy.
I need to work through this. I need to overcome it. Dragon.
Dragons are fine.
Dragons don't bother me.
I’m not afraid of dragon skin.
I look up at him, and watch as he slowly moves to plant his hands just a little behind him.
This causes his pecs to flex, and his biceps bunch under his suit.
Not gonna lie. That right there looks pretty delicious.
I just need to apply this reality - that he is a handsome, kind male - with the fact that he happens to be a handsome, kind male who has some scales.
And this doesn't make him bad.
Or evil.
Or a rapist.
It’s just… Zadeon.
I wait for him to say something, and when he doesn’t, I gather the courage to speak up. “Did you know, all this time I’ve been afraid that if I never want sex, you’ll give up on me, eventually come to your senses; leave me. And… it made me sad.”
“Callie.” His voice is patient. “You want sex.” He hesitates. “I smell it sometimes. You want sex: you just don't want to be hurt again.”
I open my mouth to protest but…
Perceptive alien.
I take a deep breath. “Could you please take off your shirt?”
With an unsure air, he nods yes but… he barely moves.
I give him a long look. “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this but… We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…”
He squeezes his eyes shut, looking pained, before he pops them back open. “I do want you. Want to mate you. I only want you to be certain. And… I am afraid of doing this wrong.”
Awww. He’s got a case of nerves.
I think back on my first time. My boyfriend was sweet. We'd been dance partners a long time before we grew brave enough to declare we were dating. We were young, it was everything shiny, and new, and happy. It was all the hearts and flower doodles of puppy love; but it was also fumbling, and clueless, and a bit painful for me, and I wish now that one of us had known what we were doing.
I want Zadeon’s first time to be good.
No. You know what? I want it to be great.
What if I… what if I cry? What if I get started, get him started - but I can’t go through with it?
What if it hurts?
What if they damaged something? I should have let the hobs examine me. All the internal tears have healed - that I know of - but...
Now I’m getting nervous.
He’s sliding his sleeves off now, free of the rest of it.
He’s almost reluctant. And when he’s done, he simply sits there quietly - letting me direct everything.
My eyes slowly take it all - allll of him - in.
I focus on the musculature first - because it’s easy to appreciate.
Dang, he’s ripped.
And huge.
It’s a revelation.
Of course I knew he was big. But here he possesses all this strength - and he is choosing to give me all the power.
I can say stop right now and this would be the end of it.
I know Zadeon would stop for me.
I know Zadeon would do anything for me.
I take a deep breath and look at them.
All of them.
His… sca-skin.
It’s skin.
It’s Zadeon’s skin.
Nothing to be scared of.
“It’s alright,” he whispers. And it’s so rare for me to hear his whisper - probably because he has trouble hearing himself a
t this level, now that I think of it - that I look up at his eyes once more in question.
“I can smell you growing afraid,” he explains. “We don’t have to.” He moves to cover himself back up.
“Wait!” I stall him by planting my hand on his arm.
I freeze him, more like it. I’m not sure he’s even breathing.
And under my hand, I can finally separate the sensations; I feel that his are rougher than the ones that haunt me in my nightmares. I let the side of my thumb catch against a scale, feel it lift - it’s got a texture to it, and an overly exaggerated dagger shape; even this scale of his looks deadly. The man looks deadly all over.
And he is.
But he loves me.
He won’t hurt me. And while I don’t believe in many absolutes, I believe this about him. He wouldn’t. Certainly never intentionally.
After what they did to me… I swore I was never going to want sex again.
But… Zadeon’s not wrong. When I watch him, sometimes I… want him.
It could take years to let the memories lose their… their punch, I guess. I could do what Crispin did. What I think Gracie did: Get right back on the… alien (in Crispin’s case a human, sure, but to him; yet another alien, though this time of his choosing).
I’m not them. My situation wasn’t their situations. I have to do what’s right for me.
Zadeon feels right.
“Can I touch you?” he asks - and my insides light up. Because he’s using that voice. That nearly-singing quality I love so much.
The one he uses when I - when we - dance.
Even when he can’t hear himself. He sings for me.
“Just your face,” he clarifies.
I stretch up and into his reach.
Slowly, his big fingers make contact, cupping me under the chin like he did in the commons.
He runs the backs of his fingers across my temples, my cheeks, slowly tracing my features and it’s such an intimate thing.
I’m watching his face so I see it all - I see everything.
This is yearning.
Are his eyes starting to shine?
His fingers tighten around my jaw, bringing my attention fully on him. “You must tell me what you need. I will try to hear you, always. Just tell me."
What I need. What I want…
I look into his eyes. His eyes that - though different from a human’s by a galaxy or so - are so patient as they gaze down on me.