by Aubrey Cara
“He cannot see you,” Oathar says. “It’s pre-recorded.”
I relax, but my face is still warm and heart still beating with embarrassment. Damn Amish aliens and their Trekkie tech. I thought it was going to be a voice mail kind of message. Not the full on embodiment of Norik. It looks so lifelike. Technology has come a long way since Leia sent out her plea to Obi Wan.
“Yon Tor, I apologize for disturbing you at your domicile.” Norik’s recorded 3D video-self fidgets, and now I sit up to hear what he has to say. “Vhars is gone. Your son took a hildy and has disappeared. I thought you would want to know.”
Beast Boy grumbles something my translator doesn’t pick up. He storms past out of the room, going into the main living space of his house. I follow out of concern as well as curiosity. But when I get into the main room, he’s setting a pot I know he uses for the Alogorian version of tea on what I call the tash-stone stove. It’s basically a tall open fire pit with a floating crystal at its center, but he uses it as a stove.
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face to his back. He stiffens before his body relaxes. “Where do you think he went?” I ask.
He heaves a great sigh and turns, wrapping his arms around me and settling his cheek on top of my head. “I do not know. I do not know him.”
I pull back to look at him. “Are you going to look for him?”
Many emotions play over Oathar’s face before his forehead scrunches and his mouth settles into a grim line. “Vhars is a fully developed Alogorian. His actions are his own, and I must let him do what he will.” This is what he says, but I sense that’s not what he really wants to do.
“That’s horse shit.”
“It is not bowel matter.”
“Yes, it is. Or at least the second part. You’re his parent no matter how old he gets. If it were one of our kids, I’d want you to go after him.”
Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do if Vhars were one of our kids. I’ve got my fingers crossed ours don’t end up a bunch of little Vhars. But I’ve also met enough guys like him who, despite having awesome parents, are complete dickheads, I know that may not be an option. And we’re totally going to be awesome parents.
“Some things are out of your control,” I tell Oathar. “But you can at least know where he is and find out why he left. It will bug you if you don’t go.” And it will bug me. I don’t tell Oathar this, but I think Vhars is seeking attention. After what Bo’hob told me about the Elders kicking him to the curb when he was fifteen, and just knowing how I rebelled for attention when I was in high school, he’s exhibiting all the hallmarks of teen angst, Alogorian style.
Oathar heaves another heavy sigh. “Is this really what you wish? For me to go find him?”
“I want you to want to do it.”
His eyes heat as he gazes down at me. “I want to strip you naked and bathe you with my tongue.”
I shiver and bite my lip. Ladytown just put up a Forget Vhars, cunnilingus now banner on Main Street, and I have to give myself a mental shake. “I totally want that, too, but you need to find Vhars. Hell, knowing him, he may be assembling an army of racist Alogorian purists to come after us.”
Oathar scoffs. “This is not something he would do. It would require too much effort.”
“Well, we can always hope.”
“Will you come with me? This time I will have a communicator on the hildy with us so you are safe no matter what.”
“That’s a relief.”
There’s a knock and I squeal, squishing up against Oathar. I didn’t put any clothes on when I left the bedroom, having forgotten they don’t have actual doors here.
Oathar turns, blocking my body with his. I stay huddled behind him but peek out to see who is here. “Bo’hob.”
“Yon Tor, I am sorry to interrupt.” That seems to be the theme of this morning. “I went and spoke to the Elders as you asked.” My forehead scrunches as I wonder when Oathar had time to ask him that. “They have sent a summons. They want to meet your human bynt ky’ab yhar.”
“Now?” Beast Boy asks incredulously.
“No.” Bo’hob waves a hand. “I am sure they meant when your ling are old enough for their Wisdom Trials.” I can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes me at his sarcasm. His lips pull up, and the mischievous light that had been absent from his eyes the last time we saw him has returned.
For the second time this morning, Oathar curses under his breath.
“They have never met a human, my friend,” Bo’hob says. “Of course they want an audience. Are you truly surprised?”
“No. I was just going to go search for Vhars. He has gone missing.”
Understanding crosses Bo’hob’s face. “I can find Vhars. He likely will be more receptive of a lecture from me than from you.”
“Since I am inclined to skip the lecture and go straight to hanging him up as huzah bait, perhaps it is better you go. Thank you.”
The second Bo’hob disappears, Oathar turns and scoops me up into his arms. I have no time to protest before he’s carrying me to his bedroom.
“And what do you thinking you’re doing, Yon Tor?” I giggle as he tosses me down and covers me, his large frame settling between my thighs. “I thought we’ve been summoned.”
“They’ll understand if we’re late.” He nuzzles my neck, and I tilt my head back to give him better access. “I must tend to my bynt.” He pushes inside me, and I gasp at the stretch. He holds himself over me, and his amber eyes practically glow with golden fire. “She is in need of a rutting.” He begins moving, his cock doing a slow drag and slide that has my eyes rolling back. He drops down to his elbows.
I wrap my arms around him, and my legs circle his waist, trying to pull him down. I want his weight on me. “I want all of you.”
He drives in me harder at my words, making me cry out and arch under him. “You have all of me,” he growls in my neck, his hips working. “I cannot deny you anything.” He sets a faster pace as he gathers me in as close as possible. His hands grip my ass, holding me in place.
I come twice before his twines bind us together. And as I quake through the vibrations of his cock lodged deep inside me, he pushes the hair from my face. “Look at me,” he demands.
I struggle to keep my eyes open.
“I want you to see me. I want you to see what you do to me.” He’s panting as hard as I am, his shimmery eyes go dark as whiskey, and they never leave my face as I crest again and again through the vibrations.
When he finally comes, his whole body shakes, and he throws his head back. The veins strain in his neck and jaw as he roars his orgasm. He pulses inside me. It’s the only time his eyes leave mine, but we’re still connected in every way.
My heart is hammering out of my chest and I’m sweaty from exertion when he rolls us to our sides. He smooths my hair out of my face and strokes my cheek. The serious soul gazing that’s been happening is defcon five intimacy level, and I have to fight not turning away or filling up the silence with chatter. When he pulls me in to lie against his chest and starts playing with my hair, I start wondering about these Elders we’re about to meet.
“Oathar?”
“Hmm?”
“What should I expect from the Elders? Are there any customs I should be aware of?”
He doesn’t answer my question. He’s silent long enough I tilt my head up to look at him. Darkness shuttles over Oathar’s expression before it clears. “There are no traditional greetings, if that is what you ask.”
That was what I was wondering, but now...after that look… “Should I be worried about meeting these guys?”
Oathar sighs. Never a good sign. “I do not know. I have not spoken to the Elders since they sent Vhars away, and I did not get their blessing when I decided to…bring you here.”
That’s the nice way of putting buying you off the alien black market.
“So you think they won’t approve?”
“Half of their purpose is upholding traditions on Lehor. There is nothing
conventional about us.” His brows pulls down in concern. “Centuries ago, before so many of us left this world, Gyhans and Alogorians cohabitated. The villages and waterways across Lehor were just as full of Gyhans as the forests were full of Alogorians. It’s even said that they would help raise children together, but I do not believe they ever had what we have. What I feel for you is not natural.”
Ouch. My body flashes cold and hot with hurt. I’m pretty sure this is the shittiest declaration of love I’ve ever gotten. I get it, though. As hard a time I’m having with my feelings for him, the concept isn’t foreign and freakish to me. It has to be twenty times harder for a guy who has no idea what love is. Foreigner’s song starts playing in my head. It’s Beast Boy’s anthem. And I guess it’s up to me to show him what love is.
Hopefully I get a chance.
The super spidey web of tentacles from his junk starts retracting, but I’m not ready for us to separate. I panic and cling to him. I don’t let him leave me when he moves to pull back. He gazes at me questioningly.
“Don’t freak out and leave me again. Bo’hob only had to whisper his disapproval of us being together, and you were ready to send me packing. Please don’t do that.”
His expression clears, and he cups my face. “No. No matter what they say, I will not send you away.” He gathers me in his arms, hands smoothing up and down my back. “You are mine now. Ling or not, I need you with me.”
The scenes in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, when his heart grows three sizes? Just happened. And it does hurt, but in a really good way. He needs me. Good. I need him, too.
My throat is too tight to say anything, so I just let him hold me and hope he doesn’t notice my eyes are leaking again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elder’s Wisdom
It is much more wise to prepare, than to plan.
OATHAR
Preparing for our short journey to the Elders is so much different than if I were going on my own. Instead of a light snack, I pack three cycles worth of nutrients for Bombee, even though I hope we will be gone no longer than one. Although if we must stop to rut, the journey there and home may take quite a bit longer. I smile to myself. Maybe a long journey would not be so bad.
I also resentfully pack up nutrients for Pluppy, her pet ne’dav. We should be taking him as nutrients, but I do not say this. My Bombee is greatly attached to the creature, and I am attached to her. I guess we are more alike than I realized. We both make irrational, questionable decisions.
Thinking of illogical decisions makes me ponder where my son is. I hope Bo’hob finds him and can reason with him and in a way I have been unable to do. I have failed with him in many ways.
“Hey, why the long face?” Bombee presses her orbs against me and wraps her delicate arms around me, as she is wont to do. The soft, clean scent of her tickles my nose, as warmth tingles through my limbs at her contact. If she keeps this up, we’ll be in danger of never making it to the Elder’s sacred space. She does not realize her effect on me.
“Is my face long?”
“It means you look sad.”
“I was thinking of Vhars.”
She nods understandingly. “That would make me sad, too.” When I do not return her smile, she pats my chest and apologizes. “Bo’hob will find him.”
“I’m sure he will. This is not why my face is long. I worry on what I will do with him after he is found.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“I’ve yet to figure of what to do with him,” I say softly. I hate admitting it out loud.
“That was before you had me.”
Her statement startles a laugh from me. “And what do you think I should do?”
Her features grow serious before she answers. “Talk to the Elders. I think they are part of the reason he’s acting out. He’s feeling rejected. I know a thing or two about feeling rejected by a parent, and it can make you do some pretty stupid things.”
I do not care for the bitter hurt in her voice. It makes me want to destroy anything that caused her the slightest pain. Did her parents reject her? I have many questions. “And you may not have rejected him,” she continues. “But they did. From my understanding, that was pretty major.”
It was major. At the time, I was infuriated. My show of anger instead of quiet understanding made things worse. As the Elders would say, there is no arguing the will of the ancestors. “How do you know of Vhars being sent away from his Wisdom Trials?”
“Bo’hob told me my first day here.”
“Hmm. What else did he tell you?”
“On that particular subject? That’s about it. He mentioned quite a bit about other subjects such as me and my super womb carrying his eggs.” Bombee pulls away. I automatically miss her warmth. She crosses her arms over her chest, and her lips are in a tight pucker. I have piqued her ire.
I irrationally want to apologize, but I do not want to admit why my tone was so accusing. I’m not sure why acid churns in my gut when she mentions talking to Bo’hob or him sharing confidences with her. I push away the sensation.
“We should go now so we can arrive while the suns are still out.”
She drops her arms and huffs. “Fine. Let me find Fluffy, and we can go.”
As she wanders back to my sleeping quarters, the transmission on my shelf chimes. I tap the receiver, and Niin appears.
“Yon Tor.” He bows. “I received your message, and will proceed as desired.” Stark relief rushes through me. “We have met with the Unity Council and the Monrok representatives.”
The transmission signal cuts out a little, which makes me wonder where they were when they recorded and sent this. Cold fingers of trepidation skitter down my spine.
“We do not know how the Zapex will proceed.” The transmission cuts out again. When it reappears, I have missed part of the message he says. “The Monrok have been granted their independence in exchange for...” Static. “But can we trust…” More static. “We should…” Static. “For now.”
That was as clear as janka sludge. I have no idea if the Zapex are coming after us, but I have a feeling the Monrok have been granted their independence in exchange for their willing protection of those in the Galactic Unity Treaty. With luck they’ll be open to the bartering of tash stones for protection and ships should the Zapex set their sights on Lehor.
I won’t know for sure until after Niin and Jhyr return, but at least I know Bombee is safe. At least from those off-planet.
Now, to visit the Elders.
“Bombee?”
She comes marching out of my sleeping quarters with Pluppy in her arms. Her chin is tilted up, and she does not so much as glance at me as she goes right past me and out the door.
Wonderful. She is still upset.
When I don’t immediately follow, she peeks back in the door, a scowl on her face. “Oathar? Are you coming?”
“I am just gathering the food.”
“Fine. Fluffy and I will be waiting in Hilda the hovercraft.”
I am almost certain she means the hildy. I quickly grab the sack of nutrients, an extra spear, and a carving of Ghbril made from Suluvian quartz. I have a feeling I will need the ancestors on my side.
When it comes to my bynt ky’ab yhar, it is better to plan for the unexpected. Unfortunately, the unexpected is here sooner than anticipated.
BAMBI
“Can you believe that man?” I ask Fluffy. “How dare he pull that jealous man card on me, when he’s the one who made me hang out with Bo’hob in the first place.” I set Fluffsters in Hilda the hovercraft, before trying to climb in myself. The sides are slightly sloped and high, and I have to raise my leg way beyond the realm of decency. I scan the area, thankful there doesn’t seem to be anyone about. I’m trying to keep my skirt down while lifting my foot above my head.
“Blessed one!” A voice says behind me in Alogorian. I startle so bad, I lose my balance. My arms pinwheel, but he catches me. If I had to guess, I’d place him about Oathar’s age. Figuri
ng that they are on a thirty year birthing cycle, it’s very probable they’re the same age.
“May I be of assistance getting into the hildy, blessed one?” he asks.
My mind stutters for a moment. I guess I’m the “blessed one,” now. “Sure, thank you.”
He’s tall and handsome enough for an alien, and he has a kind face. He tilts his head, his brow furrowed, and I realize I really need to learn some of the Alogorian language between rounds with Oathar’s cataclysm cock.
I nod, smiling like a fool, and motion to the hovercraft. He lifts me with impressive ease and sets me in the vehicle.
Once I’m settled, he bows. “May the ancestors grace you with good fortune on your journey, blessed one.”
I can’t remember how to say thank you in Alogorian even though Oathar just said it earlier. Is it diada? I know it sounds like some kind of potato. Oh wells. I nod my head in gratitude, and he says, “Avoid the huzah this time,” as he leaves, eyes dancing with mirth.
I watch him round the corner and groan. “I think one huzzah altercation in my lifetime was enough, thank you very much.”
Fluffy is curled on my lap, and I absentmindedly pet his sleek scales. The top is open on the hovercraft, and at least one of the suns is directly overhead. The “blessed one” is beginning to glisten in a not so blessed way.
Where the heck is Oathar?
I thought he was right behind me. I’m about to stand up and go hunt him down when I feel a sting on my neck. My hand automatically goes to slap whatever insect bit me, but I find a nub. I yank it out with a curse and stare down at a tiny dart. I think it’s made out of bone and is no longer than the end of my finger. My world spins as I stare at it in confusion.
My gaze whips around to see where it came from. It’s as if I’m moving in slow-mo. My vision goes spotty. But I still see him.
“I knew I didn’t like you,” I slur before everything goes black.
OATHAR
Sunlight warms my back, yet the ground beneath me is cold. These facts tease me to consciousness. My eyes are closed. My mind fuzzy.