by Ruby Dixon
She takes another shuddering breath and nods, falling back against the blankets. She's beautiful and vulnerable against them, and I don't even care that the ribbon falls off of her face and exposes her scars. I wouldn't care if she ever wore that thing. She's hauntingly lovely to me and perfect in every way. The only thing I see when I see those scars are not her flaws but the bastards that did this to her. I wish I'd been the one to pull the trigger. I wish I'd been the one to see the light go out of their eyes so they knew it was for her, that I did it in her name.
I have to be content with Kivian's justice, though.
Iris tucks the blankets up to her chin and huddles underneath them. She doesn't look happy about the thought of going back to sleep. Despite the warnings not to touch her that are screaming in my brain, I reach out and brush my fingertips over her brows, smoothing her hair back from her face. “I'm here with you.”
She doesn't shudder away from my touch, and I hate that I feel a sense of pleasure at that realization. Her face turns to mine and she bites her lip, then speaks. “Could you sleep with me tonight? Just so I know where I am?”
I stare at her in shock. “You trust me that much?”
“I have to trust someone,” Iris whispers, and reaches out to touch my hand. “Or I think I'll fall apart.”
“I won't touch you,” I promise her. “I can lie on top of the blankets.”
“Actually, I'd prefer that you hold me,” she says, and then an uncertain look crosses her face. “But just hold me, if that's okay.”
It's the first time she's demanded something instead of sweetly agreeing with whatever. I love it, and it means that she feels strongly about this. “Of course. You want me under the blankets or over?”
“Under is fine.” She shivers and then pulls her hand from mine, sliding the blankets back in an invitation.
I try to ignore the response of my cock. Iris is feeling scared and vulnerable, but my cock doesn't care. It reacts to her nearness, the suggestion of those pulled back blankets and joining her in the bed. I adjust myself, tucking my length up and into my belt so it won't jut against her while she sleeps. It's painful and pinching, but I welcome that, because maybe it'll be enough of a distraction.
I hope.
10
ALYVOS
I climb into bed on the other side of her and she slides inward, moving closer to the wall. I'll be between her and the outside, and I briefly wonder if she wants to switch places, then decide that it's a deliberate choice by her. She probably feels safer wedged between a wall and my body. As carefully as I can, I lie down next to her, the only part of me brushing against her my shoulder. I can sleep like this, I decide. Stiff and uncomfortable, but close enough that she'll know I'm here with her.
Iris gives a little sigh and immediately curls up against me, pressing her cheek to my chest, her hand on my pectorals.
So much for that. I can't find it in me to object. My female's curled up in my arms. How could I ever want anything more?
A second later, she stiffens and her legs jerk up. She scuttles backward, sitting up against the head of the bed, the blankets discarded. “There's something in the bed! It touched my leg!”
Something in the bed? I pull up the covers and peer underneath. Nothing but my legs, still covered by my clothing. “There's nothing there.”
“I felt something.” She's trembling.
“My tail perhaps?” It brushed against her when I lay down.
“Your…tail?” Her head tilts. “You have a tail?”
“Well…yes. All mesakkah do.”
Her expression still looks suspicious. “Can I touch it?”
I swallow hard. Touching a male mesakkah's tail is the equivalent of fondling his cock. She doesn't know that, though. And I don't want to admit it to her if it'll make her uncomfortable. I understand her fear, though, and I hate that I've made her worried to get into bed again. She can't see and I don't want to surprise her. “Of course.”
I'm glad I managed to sound so nonchalant.
Iris slides carefully back down into the bed next to me and then reaches forward. The covers remain bunched at our feet, and I lift my tail slightly, flicking it against her hand so she knows where it is. Her fingers close on air, and I force myself to remain still when she grips it.
Ah, kef it. The moment she touches my tail, my cock presses in aching urgency against the tight pressure of my belt. I rest my flattened hand against it, determined to make it behave even as she gently explores me with both hands. Her fingers glide over the tuft of the end of my tail and then lightly move along the length of it, edging closer and closer to the sensitive base. “It's long,” she murmurs. “Not what I expected when you said tail.”
“No?” I sound strangled to my own ears. “What did you expect?”
Her smile is shy even as she strokes the fur of my tail, and I nearly come in my pants. “A cotton tail.”
“Cotton…tail? I have no idea what that is.”
“Kind of like a fuzzy bunny. You're so soft.” She pets my skin. “Like a rabbit. I guess I've been picturing you as this big sort of bunny rabbit with armor. Is that weird?”
“I don't know. I'm not familiar with your planet's lifeforms. Are rabbits fierce? Warlike?”
A little giggle escapes her. “Warlike? No.”
I am utterly enchanted by that small laugh. My world feels upended by the sound of her pleasure, and I know in that moment I'd do anything to hear that laughter again. Kef me, she's beautiful. I've never seen anything so perfect in my life. “That's the first time I've heard you laugh,” I tell her in a husky voice.
Her expression falls, and I could punch myself for making her uncomfortable. “Haven't had much to laugh about, I'm afraid.”
“I'm an idiot,” I tell her. “A keffing idiot. Of course you haven't.” I reach out and touch her wrist, give it a squeeze. “But I want you to know you're safe here. I'd never let anyone harm you.”
She nods but doesn't answer. Maybe she doesn't believe me quite yet. She will eventually, though. It'll take time, but she'll realize I mean just what I say. I'd plow through a thousand szzt junkers to get to her if she was in danger. I'd beat ten thousand aliens with my fists. I'd do anything for her. Anything. Everything.
Iris continues to stroke my tail, and I close my eyes, determined not to let her innocent exploration make me lose control. I'd never touch her…but that doesn't mean I won’t come in my pants like a schoolboy if she keeps going as she does. “Your tail is very long,” she murmurs, and when she finds the base of it, she jerks away as she realizes she just brushed up against the fabric of my trou. “Oh. Sorry about that.”
“It's fine,” I grit out.
“I didn't mean to touch you in…such a personal way.”
“You didn't,” I lie. “You can touch me anywhere you want. I don't mind it.” I'm just spouting words, of course, trying to make her comfortable. But when her expression turns to one of interest, I'm filled with a mixture of hot anticipation and chagrin. “Do you want to?”
“I saw a movie with a blind girl once, and she touched people's faces to learn what they looked like.” Iris bites her lip, chewing on it slightly. “If it wouldn't be too intrusive, I'd like to see your face.”
“Of course.” I'm humbled that she wants to see who I am. That she's wondered about me. I force myself to remain completely still as she leans in with one hand, reaching out with delicate fingers.
She finds my nose first. It's prominent, like most mesakkah males’. Perhaps mine is more prominent than most. I've never given much thought to my appearance. I'm handsome enough that I get interest from females in most of the bars and cantinas we frequent, but I'm usually more focused on finding someone to fight than to mate with.
But…I hope she likes my face. I hope she doesn't find me frightening, or ugly. Cat likes Tarekh, and his face could make paint peel, so I hope my appearance doesn't offend Iris.
Light fingertips trace along my nostrils and then up the bridge of
my nose, caressing each bump. Iris looks fascinated as she travels upward, to the hard crest of my brows. I know we're different here than humans. We're bony and ridged all the way up to our horns, whereas she has mobile furry little brows that let her have a hundred different expressions. She traces the ridges on my forehead and then moves down to my temples and across my eyes. I close them as she skates over my lashes and then goes down to my cheeks, then brushes my mouth.
Kef, the urge to bite those dainty fingertips is overwhelming.
Iris strokes my face, learning my jaw and then sweeping upward to my ears and then my horns. I can see the surprise on her face when she discovers them, and she caresses the bases and then slowly moves her hands all the way up. “Is this…metal?”
“Mesakkah cap our horns when we come of age. It's a sign of adulthood. Of civilization. I don't know why we do it, just that if you don't cap them, you're looked at like some sort of wild man who just emerged from the jungle on a very backwards moon.”
“Wow.” Her hands stroke down my hair, over the thick fall of it. “What color is this?”
“Black. My skin is blue.”
Her lips part in surprise, and then she smiles shyly again. “Really? Blue? What color blue? Pale? Aqua? Dark blue?”
“Uh…just blue.”
She chuckles again. “I guess I should know better than to ask a guy what shade of blue he is.” Her tone is wistful. “I wish I could see it. I've never seen a blue person before.”
I want to give this to her. I struggle to think of what shade it would be. “It is…the blue of a metal weapon? Like when the light hits it just right? I am not good with words.”
“Oh, I think that was a wonderful description,” Iris tells me, and trails her fingers through my hair before letting her hands rest on my shoulders. “And you're tall, too, aren't you? I can tell you are when I stand next to you, but with your horns you must seem giant.”
“I know that you are within a handspan of Cat's height, and she does not come to my shoulder.” Iris nods as if this matches her mental image, and her hands move along my shoulders, continuing their exploration. “We are broader, as well. You seem very small next to one of my people.”
“You're very big,” she concludes and then withdraws her hands back to her lap, as if reluctant to explore more.
I find I'm disappointed that she's done. I loved the feel of her hands on me…but I'm also glad she did not explore lower. My cock is hard and straining against my clothing, and not even the pinch of my belt is helping things. “What do you think?”
Iris gives a little sigh. “I'm afraid you're not very bunny-like after all.”
“Is that bad?”
“No? In a way I'm glad you don't have whiskers and buck teeth. But you remind me of a devil like in one of the old scary stories. Your legs don't bend backward like a goat's, do they?”
Bend backward? “Why would they bend backward?”
She shrugs. “Just trying to picture the rest of you. That's what demons look like in some of our old books.”
“If you want to feel my knees, you can reassure yourself that they bend the same way yours do.”
“That's all right. I'll take your word for it.” But the hint of a smile returns to her face and she settles down in the bed next to me. I wish she'd curl up against my chest again, but she lies next to me quietly, her face turned toward mine. “Do you find us odd looking?”
“Humans? Yes and no. When I first saw Fran and Cat, I wondered how anyone could like something so pale and puny. But now I feel differently.”
“Because you know them?”
Because I know you. “Right. They're just people like everyone else. Once you get to know the person underneath, looks don't matter all that much.”
She nods thoughtfully.
“Do you find me ugly? I imagine a blue male with horns and a tail is very different from what you pictured.”
“If you only knew.” Again, she chuckles, and I am entranced. “But no, I don't find you ugly. I'd love to see the blue, but…” She shrugs. “I'll just use my imagination.” She rests her cheek on the makeshift pillow. “Thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me?”
“Because you've been very kind and you don't have to be. I know I'm being needy and scared, but I appreciate you helping me.”
“It is my pleasure,” I tell her. I think of how calmly she lies in the bed with me. There's still so much trust that it makes me wonder. If she'd been abused sexually, would she ask for me to sleep with her? Or would our conversations be very different? “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Most slavers grab humans for a, ah, very specific sort of service. Did they…touch you?” I don't know how to say it politely.
“Did they use me for sex?” Iris shakes her head. “I think that was part of the original plan, but when they found out I was a virgin, they decided they were going to re-sell me to someone else. Some lord on an asteroid with a very long name. He wanted a human virgin. So I guess I'm lucky in that they didn't do anything…like that. I know they hurt others, though. I could hear it.” Her shoulders slump and she huddles in on herself a little more. “I was very lucky.”
I grunt, not sure if I agree with that statement.
“What is it?”
“You call yourself lucky and yet they hurt you terribly.”
“Yes, but I could have been hurt like this and in other ways.” She shrugs and tucks her hands under her cheek. “I'm alive. The others…I could hear them screaming. Dying. I could smell it.” She swallows hard. “No, I'm lucky.”
“Why did they cut out your eyes?”
“I was disobedient.” Her tone is dull, defeated. “When they first captured me I was very angry. I struck out at everyone. Tried to steal weapons. I broke free from my cage once and sabotaged part of the ship. They'd hit me at first, but that didn't work. Neither did starving me. So they started to cut off my fingers.” Her hands move together and she brushes her fingers over the missing stub of a pinky. “And I still fought back, because I didn't want to give up.”
I admire her spirit…and at the same time, I wonder where it's gone. The picture she paints is a very different, feisty fighter than the calm, cringing woman at my side.
“They intended to give you away as a slave and yet they cut out your eyes? They marred you permanently? That seems like ill use of merchandise, if I'm being honest.”
She shrugged. “The lord that bought me? It was his idea. He said I didn't need eyes for what he needed me for. After that…” She goes still. “I stopped fighting.”
I go utterly silent. Rage blisters through my mind. There's another male to kill out there, then. Not just the two szzt that ran that junker, but this other male, this lord who thought nothing of maiming a female simply because she wouldn't behave like a docile animal.
“You're quiet,” Iris says in a small voice.
“I'm angry.” I hate that her shoulders stiffen. “Not at you. At the szzt that took you and hurt you. They're dead now, but I wish I could kill them all over again.”
“It doesn't matter,” she says softly.
It does matter. It matters a keffing lot to me. “Do you remember his name?”
“Who?”
“The lordling on the asteroid. The one who wanted a virgin.” So I can keffing destroy him.
“No.” She yawns and slides a little closer to me, resting her cheek against my arm. Her hands creep around my bicep, as if she wants to hold me to remind herself that she's not alone. “It was long and tongue tangling. Maybe I'd remember it if I heard it again.” She shrugs.
“It doesn't matter,” I tell her and caress her head, her hair sliding under my fingers like silk. “Sleep, Iris. I'll be here.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
There's no need to thank me, but I leave it for now. No sense in constantly making her feel bad for politeness. No wonder there's no fight left in her. They broke her and she hasn't had time to me
nd.
I'll always be here for her, I decide. Always.
11
IRIS
I wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented. Panic flashes through me. My dreams were of carnage, of aliens with spikes that they lowered towards my eyes, gleeful looks on their ugly faces. I pant, trying to sort through my chaotic half-awake thoughts, to determine what's real and what's a dream.
Next to me, someone snores.
For some reason, that grounds me. I realize where I'm at. That there's a big, heavy arm draped over my side, pinning my arm underneath his and tucking it against my waist. Instead of making me feel trapped, I feel…safe. Comforted. I even like the snoring. I settle back down against the blankets and tuck my body closer to his.
Alvos.
He's going to keep me safe.
I go back to sleep.
12
One Week Later
IRIS
It takes time for me to relax and settle in. Everything's new and strange, and I'm learning it's a lot more intimidating and very different to be blind and trapped in a small cage than blind on a strange alien ship where there are a million passageways to wander into and get lost. I start counting steps at first, until I realize that the ship's computer can give me directions, kind of like the driving app I used to have on my phone back on Earth. Space-Siri, as I call her, always stops me before I run into a wall, so I just make sure to use her as a guide until I get familiar with certain areas.
The crew talks about how small the ship is, but to me, it seems large. Bigger than a house or two slapped together. It's mostly one level, with a med-bay, a mess hall, the bridge, leisure quarters for relaxing, two storage bays, and then there are crew quarters for each of the four aliens and a maze of hallways and lockers. There's probably even more to the ship, but I haven't run into it yet. I'm not the boldest of explorers.