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Teril's Fire: A Mate Index Alien Romance (The Mate Index Book 12)

Page 6

by S. J. Sanders


  “You did not,” he barked sharply. “Is that all you wish to say?”

  It was rude, but he just needed to get away. Return to his room where he could attempt to forget that this night had ever happened.

  “I guess,” she mumbled. “Just… thank you.”

  “She would not have hurt you,” he replied sourly.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know that. And you didn’t know what was happening when you rushed in to help me. I really appreciate it.”

  “It is nothing. Now excuse me,” he grunted as he made his escape.

  He just barely heard her soft reply as he ducked into his room.

  “It meant something to me.”

  Allowing his door to slide shut behind him, he leaned back against it and closed his eyes. He just needed to avoid her until she left. In eight months. He groaned, burying his face in his hand. It was impossible.

  Chapter 7

  Crystal stared out the large common room window, rocking back and forth on her heels, and she sang along with the chorus of “Down with the Sickness” brought to her courtesy of the small intergalactic media ear transponders that Grish had gifted her that morning. There was only so much time she could spend watching the vids before she started feeling like a potato pancake. Unfortunately, that distracted her into thinking about food again. Immediately, the song swung into the chorus once more, the heavy beat of the music grabbing her attention, pulling her back into its high energy web.

  Had to love Disturbed.

  Four days. Four days of the same monotony. Grish was attentive and sweet in the evenings when the males came in from the fields, regaling her during mealtime with stories from their service among the Intergalactic Fleet. It was always a welcome respite, but the rest of the day played out just the same. The same exact replicated food, the same routines. The same unchanging silent treatment from Borth whenever he failed to stealthily avoid her.

  She had sort of established a routine with it. Get up. Go to the kitchen. Watch Borth make a break for it. Make small talk with Grish. Eat. Watch her shows until she got bored with the vids. Proceed to spend hours staring out the common room window while attempting to think of some way to amuse herself.

  Matida yawned from where she was curled up on a pillow on the floor, showing off two rows of long, sharp teeth, clearly letting her know her opinion on Crystal’s effort to self-entertain. Or her taste in music. It could be either—or both.

  She had to hand it to the scaly beast. Maybe napping wasn’t a bad way of killing a few hours. No doubt Matida would be up for snuggling in bed. Although Crystal had surrendered one of her large pillows for the animal, it ended up doing nothing at all to keep the beast out of her bed. Not that it was all bad.

  Matida may have looked like a giant reptile, but her body temperature was higher than Crystal’s, and her scales almost silky in texture, despite Grish’s assurances that they were extremely resilient against damage, making her a pleasant bed companion. She woke up nearly every morning with Matida’s head draped over the back of her neck, a rumbling, purring snore echoing from the beast.

  That had been alarming. The first morning, she nearly shouted the house down again in surprise. Not wanting another embarrassing repeat of the guys rushing to her aide, she had managed to restrain it beyond a startled squeak. It had taken a couple of days to get used to the idea of a small wingless dragon for a pet, yet the tantogal won her over.

  Really, Crystal had to admit it was the most badass pet a person could have. And the animal’s sheer size was reassuring. It made her feel safer while the guys were out in the fields—even if the tantogal wasn’t the most entertaining. She didn’t play fetch—oh, she might chase something down but always carried it off and hid to chew on it somewhere in private—and really wasn’t keen on walks or other activities Crystal might have done with a dog of that size.

  Oh well. At least she had access to music now. The real window was also a plus.

  Singing along with the lyrics, she watched a fluffy cloud drift overhead. She could see gray clouds in the distance, threatening the possibility of rain sometime during the night, but for now the sun was shining down warmly.

  A small flock of ithlek flew past, the strange birdlike animal distinguished by its long, narrow beak, an even longer tongue that helped it scoop up the nasty, biting linsek beetles after spearing them, and a wild fanfare of large crayon-yellow plumage. Several landed in the yard just outside the window, the plumes on their head making them resemble little Victorian ladies nodding to each other as the birds pecked the ground, searching for prey. That each bird’s head easily reached her shoulder only reinforced that image. Crystal watched the ithlek hopping in the grass with complete fascination as her music changed to the next track.

  Funny, she never imagined that something so simple would become a luxury to her until she became an alien bride. Some of the males she had been “matched” with may have lived in societies with tech she had never seen before, but it didn’t make up for the fact that they lived in enclosed homes with large vid screens that mimicked windows, showing whatever recorded scene played on a loop.

  This at least felt real. Boring as fuck—but real.

  On the other side of this window, however, there were real fields in hues varying from russet to yellow, blue, and green. She could also see a cluster of trees beyond the fields. According to Grish, it was an orchard owned by one of their neighbors. Although few farmers grew lumber, nearly everyone had some sort of small orchard, producing different fruits from those of neighboring plots.

  Nearer to the house, aside from the occasional avian visitor, there was little worth seeing. There was some empty space that could have easily been made into an attractive garden bed with a little effort. She wondered if the guys would give her a few credits for seeds or starts. Although Grish seemed happy to provide everything she asked for, she did feel a little weird asking for something that really wasn’t necessary—especially when she didn’t know if she would be staying. But puttering about her abuela’s garden, thick with the scent of blooming jasmine that Danitza Alfaro favored, was her most cherished memory.

  Staring at the empty beds, Crystal’s lips twitched wistfully. Her abuela had loved her gardens, but everyone knew that her pride was the prize-winning orchids she patiently grew in her small greenhouse. Crystal hadn’t gardened in years, not since she accidentally killed her beautiful orchid, the single plant with its delicate orange blooms that she had been allowed to take home after her abuela died. She lost the heart for it, and with all of her time working odd jobs—some of them legit, others toeing the line of black hat territory—and spending countless hours linked in to various systems, she hadn’t thought of it in years.

  Yet looking at the empty space brought it all back.

  She blinked away the memories and looked away. The idea of turning the earth and hoping for something beautiful to bloom like it might have under Danitza’s hand was more tempting than she would have imagined. She longed for that familiarity, but it was a big step to take.

  Looking out across the lavender grassy stretch of land ahead, she watched the play of sunlight among the pale leaves of the trees that randomly dotted the landscape. There was something soothing about watching the leaves shift with the wind, their color rippling in hues as limbs bent and a brightly clad individual darted behind a tree.

  Wait, what?

  Squinting, Crystal leaned forward, peering through the pane of what was presumably a kind of alien glass. The red blob moved again, shifting around the side of the tree. A pale gray face framed by scarlet hair so red that it nearly matched the dress itself peeked out in the direction of the house.

  Well. That was different.

  Touching a finger to small switch nestled at the back of her ear, Crystal deactivated the transponder and turned away from the window. It took her less than three minutes to make it to the front door, and only another minute for her access to the front porch. A crisp autumn breeze whipped around her, and Crysta
l pulled the fuzzy blanket she had been cocooned in all morning tighter around her as she raised a hand. The female spying on her froze in abject terror.

  Had she never seen a human before?

  “Hello!” Crystal shouted across the short distance. “It’s a bit chilly today. I imagine it’s pretty uncomfortable for sitting behind trees.” She paused, holding back a laugh as the female glanced around uncertainly, trying to determine who was being spoken to. “Yes, you… behind my tree. Come on in. If you want to, that is.”

  A startled squeak rang out, and the female turned and bolted away in a flurry of red skirts and hair. Crystal frowned until she felt Matida pressing against her leg and hip. Looking down, she scowled without heat at the large reptile.

  “We really need to work on your timing, Matida.”

  The tantogal rumbled happily and nuzzled her with a playful butt of the head.

  “Yeah, yeah, I like you too, you big brat. At least give someone the chance to stick around long enough for your presence to grow on them. Visitors of the non-Calystii sort would be nice on occasion.”

  Matida chirped, her jaws snapping happily.

  “How about a snack, brat? I think I could use a little something. I can try again to fry up some gilig root. I think I almost got a french fry last time.”

  The animal snorted and let out a sneeze.

  “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,” she laughed.

  Chapter 8

  “Did I see the Wanit female fleeing from our property?” Grish inquired with a curious glance at his mate as he stepped into the domicile.

  “Wanit? I don’t know. I saw a female. Gray… A lot of red. I couldn’t say for sure what exactly she was,” Crystal replied as she sat the datapad aside and walked over to help him tug off the sodden leather protective wear wrapped snuggly around his frame. “She sure took off when I invited her in. You would think I was offering to feed her to Matida the way she reacted.”

  Grish chuckled as the enormous coat peeled off him. “That would be her. The Wanit are a shy species. Not many leave their homeworld. Her family owns the orchard nearest to us. Came with her mate a few revolutions before Borth and I arrived. They’re good people, but easily frightened.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and she regarded him with surprise, seemingly not even noting the way she staggered beneath the weight of the coat as it pulled free. “And nothing has eaten them yet?”

  “Like many species, they do have their defenses. The Wanit spit venom. A fine deterrent,” he explained.

  “I’ll say,” she murmured as she heaved the jacket over and hung it to dry while he worked his boots off. Turning to him, she regarded the large puddles forming under him with amusement. “Think you brought in enough water with you?”

  “Enough. Fitting for the light rain,” he agreed.

  “You call that downpour a light rain?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you guys come inside sooner, like last time?”

  He shrugged as he kicked his boots free. “We wanted to get that section of the field done. We made good time and finished before everything became too wet to work. It was worth getting a little wet,” he concluded with a grin.

  She snorted at him, her eyes darting up as Borth stomped into the doorway. Her mirth instantly dried up, and Grish was sorry to see it go, but not sorry to see the determined, speculative look come to his mate’s eyes. She immediately moved to Borth’s side. Ignoring his unpleasant growl, she grabbed his coat and began to work it off him with persistent yet gentle tugs.

  Grish did not understand his brother’s surly behavior. The coats, though sturdy and protective while working in the field, were near impossible to peel off without assistance when they became wet. She was even present when they helped each other that first day. Why was he behaving that way?

  “I do not need help,” the male snapped, jerking away from her.

  Grish drew in a breath, watching for Crystal’s reaction. If his brother made her cry, he would pummel him.

  Her cheeks reddened, eyes narrowing for a fraction of a moment. In the next, it was gone. She shrugged and released his coat abruptly so that the sodden sleeve slapped Borth with a loud wet sound.

  “Suit yourself,” she said as she stepped away. She returned to the common room, picked up the datapad, and flopped belly-down on the couch. Matida chirped and tried to jump up with her, but Crystal pushed her back with a laugh. “Don’t even think of it, brat.”

  Grish smiled and pushed himself up to his feet. When he began to head toward his mate to create a little mischief of his own, Borth gave him a disgusted look and put an arm out in his path.

  “Are you going to assist me or not?”

  Raising a brow ridge, he regarded his brother firmly. “Seems to me you didn’t need any help. Did you not say so?”

  His brother’s glower did not bother him. If he was going to make such pronouncements to their female, then he could deal with the consequences. Borth refused to reply and so Grish strode by, content to spend some time in the more pleasant company of their mate.

  “Wait.”

  Grish stopped and looked at his brother expectantly. The sour expression on his brother’s face made him want to laugh, but he held back.

  Borth darted a furtive look at Crystal.

  Grish didn’t even need to look to know that their female was already absorbed once more in her reading. Even after a few days in her company, he was already learning her regular tendencies. He was not surprised, therefore, when the male gestured for him to approach closer.

  Dropping his voice, Borth rasped, “I do not want her help. I do not want to further shame myself.”

  “And you think your behavior is not doing that adequately?” Grish replied, his lips twisting with amusement.

  His brother’s glower deepened, and he huffed in irritation. “Better than a female fawning over a male as if he is helpless. I do not want a female who latches onto me because she feels pity for me,” he hissed. “The only reason she has to touch me is out of pity and so I do not want her touch at all. I want to keep my distance from her. I am asking for you to respect that.”

  Grish sighed and nodded reluctantly. As per his brother’s original request, Grish had handled everything that Crystal needed. It was only right since he was the one responsible for being her there. If Borth needed this, he couldn’t refuse. He did not like it, but he couldn’t force Borth into a mating he did not want. His only hope was that gradually his brother would come to feel some affection toward their female that could plant the seeds of deeper attachment. Crystal had bought them time with her fib.

  He prayed that it would be enough.

  The lie was clever, and he did not hold it against their mate. Sometimes, on the battlefield, a warrior had to use whatever resources he had at hand in order to win. She had given them eight months. It hardly seemed adequate in light of his brother’s stubbornness, but it would have to do.

  As he tugged Borth’s wet coat off him, he wondered if the female suspected that he knew of her lie. He was no fool, and he knew that she was smart enough not to take him for one. Thankfully, Borth hadn’t read the contract and so did not know that there was no such time stipulation within it. Otherwise, Crystal would have been on the first transport off the planet and there would have been little that Grish could have reasonably done to prevent it.

  Their little mate was clever.

  And practical.

  He admired both of those qualities. Over the revolutions they had been farming on Antari Minor, he had the opportunity to see many ordered mates arrive at the outpost. Most of them had been overdressed in what he imagined were strange ceremonial mating gowns. An odd choice on their part as far as he was concerned, but it emphasized how delicate they appeared to be, unsuited for life on the planet.

  He almost changed his mind about wanting to order a bride more than once. He had been relieved to see his mate waiting for him in the teahouse in her simple, comfortable dress, drinking intimbar. He had been c
oncerned initially over her lack of belongings but dismissed it quickly. It was an expedient way to travel, and that too was practical.

  “Go,” Borth grunted as he hung the heavy coat to dry. “You are not looking at her, but I see where your mind is at and it is not here. No need to linger at my side.”

  Grish grinned at his brother. “She is more attractive to look at.” He paused when he got no response. “You do agree our mate is very appealing… do you not?”

  A grunt was all he received in reply.

  “Are you really going to try and tell me that you have not noticed?” he needled.

  Borth snorted, his lips tightening. “I noticed. I am not dead.” A hard look crossed his face as he kicked his boots off and placed them in the storage unit with the coats. “But she is not our mate. Do not forget, brother: it takes both of us to agree, and I still do not want a mate.”

  Stubborn male. Grish hoped that Crystal possessed the fortitude to deal with him. He smiled amicably at his brother and shrugged.

  “Sure, sure. But there is no harm in enjoying it.”

  Reddish eyes narrowed on him suspiciously, but after a moment, Borth shrugged. “You can do as you like. I will be enjoying intimbar.”

  “Perhaps three cups?” Grish suggested. “We rarely use the cooking unit. It would be a shame to start it up to brew from our supply of intimbar grounds without making plenty for everyone. You can surely keep your distance while enjoying a cup of intimbar like civilized people. You can even sit on the other side of the table, if it makes you feel better. I will personally make sure that she is thoroughly occupied.”

  Borth’s brow ridges slammed down, and the four thin nostrils on his flat, rounded nose flared with incense. “I am sure you will. Your sacrifice shall be noted and sung of for revolutions to come,” he snapped, turning his back to him as he stormed away.

 

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