by Dixon, Ruby
“If he drops by and threatens my mate, he will be very dead,” I snarl. “Much like anyone else who comes to my porch with demands in regards to her.”
The bounty hunter gives me a crisp nod. “I will be in port for several weeks. Contact this one”—he flicks a dismissive gesture at the cowering Sivorrin—“if you have information.” He turns to leave, and Sivorrin shoots me an apologetic look before scampering after the bounty hunter.
Fists clenched, I watch as they depart, and it’s not until they’re gone, the air-sled vanished into the horizon, that I turn and head back inside.
Kim is immediately at the door, her face pale and worried. “Nassakth, what’s going on?”
I should sit her down. Calmly explain to her that there is nothing to fear. That I will let no one touch her or even speak to her if she does not wish it. That she is utterly safe with me. But things are still too new between us, too fresh.
And I worry Kim will slip away before I can even win her.
My emotions are at war as I gaze down at her. There is a charming little frown on her brow, but she looks up at me with trusting eyes. Eyes that have no idea I have already killed twice over outside the arena—once to protect myself, and once to protect her.
Because I am selfish, I grab her and pull her into my arms, tucking her against my chest. I stroke her head, petting her. “It is nothing. You are safe.”
Her voice is muffled against my chest fur, but she does not pull away. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
A very good question. Because I would rather die than return to a life of slavery. It would be death either way—an aging fighter with a reputation such as mine? I would not last long at all. I would be tossed in front of every gladiator looking to make a name for himself, and it would be a brutal, ugly, and possibly humiliating death. I have always known this, and I have sworn that if anyone came for me, I would go down fighting.
But then I met Kim.
Kim has changed everything. She is a complication I did not anticipate. Now, every move I make must have Kim’s safety in mind….and I am not entirely sure what to do. The bounty hunter will be back. He will be looking for “additional information.” It was in his veiled hint about how long he would remain in port. If he thought there was no information to be found, he would not bother to stay.
“Who were those men?” Kim asks. I feel her fingers curling into my chest fur, scratching lightly, and it is almost as if she is trying to comfort me as well. When I hesitate, she continues. “You can tell me. I’ve dealt with some bad shit in my life.”
And she continues to scratch my chest as I pet her head.
It occurs to me that we are comforting each other, and the thought makes me smile. Do I trust her? Or do I keep my secrets? Perhaps the answer is somewhere in the middle. “A bounty hunter,” I confess. “I think he might be trouble.”
“Should we call Bethiah?” Kim asks.
Bethiah. Of course. One bounty hunter can get rid of another. I laugh, squeezing Kim against my chest with relief. “You are the smartest female ever, you know that?”
27
KIM
Nassakth contacts Bethiah while I get ready for bed. We’d discussed what we’d ask her to do—since she clearly needs explicit instructions—and decided that we’d ask for information and nothing more. For now. We can always decide what needs to be done later, and I don’t like the thought of getting deeper into things than we already are.
I’m still not entirely sure what’s going on, but if Nassakth thinks that the bounty hunter on the doorstep is trouble, I’m willing to believe him. They’re either looking to cause trouble or they might be after his fortune. It’s clear to me that Nassakth is one of the wealthiest people on this planet, and he had a reputation before settling down. Maybe someone found out about that reputation and wants to blackmail him.
I’m a little worried because I feel like we’re settling in to each other and developing a friendship, and I don’t want anything to happen to that bond.
Friendship. I think about just how disappointed he was when I brought it up. My cheeks flush and I splash water on my face to cool it. I consider my hair, pulled back into a high bun to keep it off my face. Normally I sleep with it in two loose braids, but it makes my face look round and childish. I detangle it with his odd comb, then leave it loose around my shoulders and study my reflection.
Oh god, is that a gray hair? I lean into the mirror, horrified. It is. Shit. I immediately pluck it out, wincing as it rips from my scalp, and then I feel stupid.
Our lives could be in danger and here I am worried I’m going to look old to Nassakth? It’s so shallow of me. I slip one of Nassakth’s extra tunics over my head to sleep in, since my clothes are wrinkled and slightly smelly after two days straight. It hangs on me like a dress, the collar practically gaping to my ribs, and I artfully adjust it, tugging on the back hem so I’m not all cleavage.
Then I climb into the bed and wait for Nassakth to update me on Bethiah. I sit cross-legged in the center, tugging the hem of his tunic over my knees, and try to distract myself with thinking of storylines for my book. Maybe…maybe they’re stuck somewhere and there’s only one bed. Maybe it’s snowy outside and they’re forced to share warmth. Maybe—
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. “Kim?”
“Come in.”
Nassakth pokes his head in and his gaze lingers on the tunic I borrowed. There’s a hungry flash in his eyes that makes me feel…things. Things I don’t hate.
“Is this okay?” I ask, and there’s a husky note in my voice as I touch the collar. “My clothes were getting kind of ripe.”
“Of course. Anything I have is yours.” He remains in the doorway. “We will get more clothes for you tomorrow. And we will go by your farm and set up the perimeters. And we will start your weapon training.”
I have a million questions to ask, like how the call with Bethiah went. If she knows anything about the mysterious bounty hunter. If there’s something going on that I should be aware of. But it all flies out of my mind the moment he mentions the weapon training. I feel a prickle of fear go up my spine. “Am I…in danger?”
“Never.” His vehement response makes me feel better.
“Did marrying me get you in trouble with someone? Do you need to bail out?” I chew on the inside of my cheek for a moment, because even though it’s only been about two days, I already feel a little less guarded and ten times safer than I did while alone on my farm. “Because if you do, I understand.”
“We are staying married,” Nassakth says stubbornly from the doorway. “I made a vow to you and that has not changed. Our mating will cause no problems. I do not think he is here for that.”
“Then what is he here for?”
His feline face is impassive. “I do not know.”
I can’t tell if he genuinely has no idea or if he’s lying to me. I study his face, worried, and then nod. “Did Bethiah agree to hunt down the information on what’s going on?” When he grunts in agreement, I add, “I can help pay for her services.”
“You will do no such thing. It is taken care of.” Nassakth studies me for a moment longer, and then inclines his head. “Good night to you, Kim. Sleep well.”
“Night.”
I watch him leave, shutting the door behind him. “Lights,” I murmur, and they dim, then wink out and the room is left in darkness. I’m alone in the massive bed. I curl my legs under the tunic to work as a blanket. It’s not that I’m cold, exactly. I just feel…a little frightened and very alone now that the lights are out. What did the bounty hunter want? What’s the piece of the puzzle that I’m missing?
Minutes pass. I’m tired, but I can’t find it in me to close my eyes and sleep. My brain won’t shut off. I keep thinking about the bounty hunter. About Bethiah. About Nassakth. About his smile when we played Slapjack yesterday. How caring he’s been. How good it felt to wake up next to him and feel so protected, sheltered and secure.
&nbs
p; I climb out of bed and head for the door. All is silent on the other side. I crack it open and peek out, and the lights are off in the rest of the house. I cross my arms under my breasts and tiptoe on the cool floors, heading into the living area. Sure enough, Nassakth is lying flat on his back on one of the rugs, his eyes closed. He looks more like he’s going to meditate than sleep. It doesn’t look comfortable.
I take a small step forward. The sound of my feet on the tile must make a slight noise, because he immediately jumps up, fur bristling. His eyes shine in the darkness. He’s alert, his claws unsheathed, teeth bared, and my eyes go wide as I freeze.
The moment he realizes it’s me, he relaxes, his shoulders slumping. His claws retract as he lowers his arms. “Kim.”
“I thought you said we weren’t in danger,” I accuse.
“We are not. But you should not sneak up on a gladiator at any time in your life.” He rakes a hand through his mane, smoothing it down, and offers me a wry smile. “Even an old one like me.”
“Oh shut up. You’re not old.” I think of the gray hair I plucked out earlier today. He’s gray all over but I don’t think he’s old. Not in the slightest.
“Can you not sleep?” he asks, changing the subject. Nassakth’s eyes are still shining in the darkness. Instead of unnerving, I find it kind of…cute.
I shake my head. “I can’t sleep in that big bed by myself. I know this is a big ask, but will you come sleep with me? Just as friends of course.” I hastily add the last part, just in case he thinks I’m asking for more this early.
Early. What is wrong with my brain? Why am I thinking there’s a “later”?
Nassakth studies me for a long moment. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I nod, feeling a little shy. My toes curl on the cold floor. “I liked it when we slept together. I felt…safe.”
“Then I am yours.”
And I prickle all over again with that nameless feeling I don’t hate.
28
NASSAKTH
I climb into bed with Kim, a little uncertain how she wishes to handle things. Does she merely want me in the same room with her? Or does she want to sleep as we did last night, bodies touching? I know which one I am hoping for, but I will be fine with whatever she decides. It is enough that she trusts me to allow this.
No, I realize. Not just allow. She asked me to stay with her. She prefers my company.
For a moment, I want to race into the bathroom and brush out my tail. To wave it like a banner as I climb into bed (again) and hope that she notices what a strong, brave, attractive partner I can be. But I discard the idea—Kim just wants to sleep.
I settle in at the edge of the large mattress, a polite distance away. Kim gets into bed and immediately moves to my side, snuggling up against me.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you’re always so warm,” she says between yawns. “But you are.”
“Are you cold?”
“Not now.” Her fingers curl in my fur and she tucks her head against my shoulder. She’s still for a moment, and then her leg worms between mine, and she sighs. “Comfortable.”
I am glad one of us is, because now I am aching. My cock is rising in my trou, my body utterly aware of her nearness. This is what I wanted, and it is both the best thing ever and the most frustrating. I watch her as she relaxes in my arms, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. The collar of my tunic is oversized on her and reveals a delicate, pale shoulder that begs to be touched. Unable to resist, I gently tug the collar back up, hiding her flesh….even as I let my fingertips graze her skin.
She makes a soft little noise in her throat and shifts closer to me, and I have to close my eyes to control the surge of heat in my body. I will think of unappealing things to calm my raging need. Things like the bounty hunters. Kim’s other suitors. Kim’s outdated air-sled. Kim’s fields of noli flower.
“Nassakth?” Kim’s voice is soft even as she twines her fingers in my mane.
Yes, I will touch you, I want to say to her. Yes, I will give you great pleasure. Many cubs. Just give me a chance.
I clear my throat and manage a strangled, “Yes?”
Her fingers comb gently through my mane, then move lower on my chest, brushing over one of my bare pectorals. I wear nothing but my trou, since I was preparing to sleep, and now I realize all my skin pressed against her is both a great blessing and a curse.
“You said you didn’t know what the bounty hunter wanted. Is that true?” I hesitate for a bit too long, and she makes a soft noise in her throat. “You do know. What is it?”
“Nothing.”
She pets me a little more. “Don’t you think you should tell me?”
“No.”
Her fingers skim over my shoulder, stroking in little circles. Her voice is cajoling and soft and makes my groin tighten. “But I’d really like to know.”
I open my eyes. Peer down at her. “Female, are you manipulating me?”
“Yes. Is it working?” One fingertip glides down my arm, and I notice she has her eyes open, and she’s watching me.
I chuckle at her blunt answer. “Is that why you invited me in here? To coax answers from me because I am weak for your touch?”
“No. I like you in here.” Again, she is honest. Our eyes meet and hers do not shine in the darkness, but they are still beautiful. “The manipulating is just a nice bonus. Plus I’d really like to know.”
And her hand strokes down my arm.
I groan softly, unable to help myself. I cannot resist her touch, manipulation or not. “What he wanted is not important.”
“It might be to me. You won’t tell me?”
“I…no.”
“Unfair,” she whispers. “I thought we were done with secrets.”
I wish we were. “It does not pertain to you, and I do not wish for you to worry.”
“Like I’m not going to worry if you don’t tell me what’s going on?” Her brow furrows and she moves her fingers lightly across my chest again, as if they are dancing over my skin. “Can we….trade for information?”
“Trade?” I am purring, I realize with a shade of embarrassment. Purring at her touch, because she knows just how to work me and I am the weakest of males under her hand.
“Yes. You tell me what the bounty hunter wanted and I’ll…give you something you wanted.”
An image of Kim, on all fours under me as I bite her neck, floods through my brain. “What…what do you think I want?” The words are thick. Ragged. Hungry.
“I thought I might introduce you to a human courtship ritual,” she says softly. “Like…kissing.”
Kissing. The mouth-tastings I have heard about and watched on the vids. The affectionate gesture that humans make to mates and lovers, and one that any mesakkah would cringe over for the intimacy and lack of hygenic protocol. But praxiians have no such worries, and I want this more than anything.
Well, almost anything. I reluctantly banish the thought of Kim on all fours to a distant corner of my mind. I gaze down at her face, looking for fear or reluctance. If she looks as if she does not wish to participate in this—even if she is the one to suggest it—I will say no. A mate is no mate if she is not willing and eager.
But Kim bites her lip and looks up at me, and her cheeks are flushed, her pupils large. Her hand flattens on my chest, right over my pounding heart, and I do not think she is afraid. “We could both get something we want,” she whispers. “What’s the harm?”
I reach out and gently rub a knuckle along the delicate line of her jaw. “I do not wish to kiss you if you do not want it, Kim. If you feel you must know this information that badly, I will tell you anyhow. I would not push you for favors you do not wish to give. I would rather have your trust above all else.”
She leans into my touch, and her expression grows shy. “I…maybe I might be interested…in…kissing you. Maybe.” She’s panting slightly, as if she is as breathless as I am. “Is that weird?”
Is it weird? Not at
all.
Does it make my heart-feelings sing with hope? Absolutely.
29
KIM
“You are very good at persuading,” Nassakth murmurs.
Am I? I don’t feel good at it. I’ve never particularly gotten my way on anything before now. If anything, I’ve felt distinctly unlovable for the last several years. But Nassakth has a way of peeling back my layers and making me feel wanted. Maybe that’s why I’m caving so fast. When he looks at me, I don’t feel like aging, worthless Kim, human trash. I feel like a beautiful, desirable woman and it makes me want more.
So I stroke his chest, letting my fingers trace over his pectorals. His fur is thickest at his neck and shoulders, a lot like a lion’s mane, and it thins out over his chest, leaving a slight fuzz over the rest of his skin. It’s not enough to hide the fact that his muscles are very clearly defined, and it makes him a pleasure to look at, and even more of a pleasure to touch. He’s purring, too. There’s a low rumble in his chest that makes parts of me throb in response.
He drapes one big arm around me, tucking me close against him, and I want to moan with pleasure at the warmth it spreads through my body, and how achingly aware I am of his nearness, his strength, his power.
It’s odd but I really do feel safe with this big, brutal stranger.
Nassakth studies me for a moment, and his thumb brushes against my back, through the borrowed tunic I’m wearing. “The bounty hunter,” he begins slowly, “is hunting for a mesakkah criminal that was last seen in this area.”
I haven’t seen any mesakkah in this area lately. There’s always a few hanging out at port—like Bethiah—but out on farms? Only if they live there. “Do you know the man they’re looking for?”
“Know him? I do not.”
“Then why are we worried enough to call in Bethiah?”
He pauses. His thumb strokes over my back again. “Sometimes…when a bounty hunter is looking for answers, they make the pieces fit the puzzle. If his clients wish to hear a human is responsible for a death, they will make it seem that a human is responsible and turn in the human, because the sooner the bounty is completed, the sooner they are paid.”