Ajos: The Restitution - A Sci-fi Alien Romance, Book 1

by A. G. Wilde

  “So these Tasqal guys destroyed your planet too?”

  “No…at least, not yet.”

  “So…” Kerena frowned slightly, trying to understand. “Why did you leave?”

  Ajos’ mouth formed a thin line once more and his shoulders visibly stiffened.

  Damn, was that too much of a personal question?

  For a few moments he said nothing, and it seemed as if his gaze wasn’t even focused on her anymore.

  “I left,” he finally said, “because I had to.”

  Kerena clamped her mouth shut.

  There was awkwardness in the air, and she wasn’t going to question him about something that obviously touched a sore spot.

  He moved then, stepping around her toward another door that was set in the wall.

  The door slid open, and the room lit up.

  “This is the room for cleansing.”

  Kerena nodded, her gaze following him as he stepped toward the main door to the room. He turned once more, and he frowned at the bed.

  A yawn stretched her lips before she could stop it. She really was tired.

  Ajos jerked his head. “I will leave you to rest,” he said, his gaze moving over her. “Rest well.”

  He was leaving?

  Kerena moved forward, and in her sluggishness, she almost stumbled into him.

  Her hand grasped his bare arm and Ajos froze.

  That thing that ran from his head down his back like a thin, soft fin seemed to pulse.

  Kerena swallowed and removed her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He didn’t have to do any of this, and she was truly grateful for it.

  Ajos jerked his head, but no words came from his lips, and with that, he stepped out of the room.

  As the door slid closed behind him, Ajos took a few steps down the corridor before leaning his head against the wall.

  What the qef was he doing?

  This was more than an urge to fix what he had failed to do in the past.

  This wasn’t about penance.

  He’d brought the female into his space and why?

  Because he felt sorry for what had happened to her people? Or was it that he felt sorry for her, specifically?

  While he’d carried her to the bunker, the walk had been almost painful.

  It was clear she felt safe with him.

  Would she feel so safe if she knew that he’d failed to protect someone and it had cost them their life?

  He’d never get Nama back, and for that, he had no right to lay claim over this female when he’d failed at the basic duty of every Shum’ai male that ever lived.

  Ajos stiffened at that thought.

  Claim?

  He wasn’t thinking of laying claim on anyone.

  But even as he thought this, he couldn’t deny that the walk to the bunker had been painful for another reason.

  His nefre kept pulsing, and every movement of the female in his arms had sent tingles straight to his genital pouch.

  He could feel the blood causing the area to throb even now. That touch she’d landed on his arm had caused a fresh wave of pulses.

  Ajos groaned, his hands fisting at his sides as he tried to control the confusing feelings.

  A shadow fell at the end of the corridor to the sleeping quarters, and Ajos looked up to see V’Alen standing there.

  Pushing himself off the wall, he composed his features and walked forward.

  Brushing past V’Alen without a word, he headed toward the door.

  “Brother?” V’Alen’s voice stopped him, and Ajos clenched his fists.

  “What is it, V’Alen?”

  He knew his comrade was about to speak some revelation that he didn’t want to hear, and that only made him tense more.

  For a being that had no emotions, V’Alen sure as qef knew how to identify them in others.

  “Your nefre,” was all V’Alen said.

  “What about it?” Ajos frowned and turned to look at his ally.

  He wasn’t in the mood to chat about his body parts right now—especially when it seemed like he was losing control of them.

  “It is not the same color as it used to be.” V’Alen angled his head.

  Ajos’ frown deepened, his entire being stiffening. “What do you mean?”

  “It is turning…red.”

  Ajos blanched.

  Impossible.

  “What?” He reached a hand back to touch the soft fin that ran down his back.

  It moved against his hand as his fingers brushed against it.

  “Your nefre,” V’Alen repeated, “is red.” His friend blinked. “Are you ill?”

  No. No, he was not, but it would be better if that was the case because the alternative was much worse.

  “Brother?” V’Alen asked, his eyes flashing. “I will contact Aker. He will—”

  “No, that will not be necessary.” Ajos gulped. “I just need some fresh air.”

  Before V’Alen could say another word, Ajos stepped out the door and away from the bunker.

  He couldn’t tell V’Alen what the change in his nefre meant.

  He couldn’t tell him because he didn’t want to believe it himself.

  9

  Ajos shook his head to clear it as he walked toward the supply center.

  Maybe he could find some soft bedding there for he was positive Keh-reh-nah could not sleep on his resting slab.

  He was used to the hardness, but he doubted she was.

  It was clear she was used to soft, comforting things on her planet. Her thin skin would break otherwise.

  He kept this in mind as he headed to the supply center. If he could find anything there for her to sleep on, he’d be relieved.

  As he walked though, V’Alen’s words repeated in his head.

  Qef.

  He ran his hand over his nefre again.

  It didn’t feel any different. Maybe V’Alen had been mistaken.

  He had to be.

  In front of him, light illuminated the supply center, and he knew Hemmil, the Ghanzot who worked there, was probably working overtime managing resources because of the explosions.

  The doors to the supply center slid open and Ajos walked in.

  Hemmil raised his hand in greeting.

  “Ajos, my friend!”

  “Hemmil.”

  Ajos kept walking, and he was sure he saw, from the corner of his eye, that Hemmil’s face fell.

  He was usually cordial with the Ghanzot, and Hemmil liked the conversation. But tonight he didn’t want to hang around and chat. He was too focused on the turmoil in his head.

  He moved straight to the back and began going through the shelves there.

  As he searched for some sort of bedding, his nefre pulsed annoyingly.

  It was hard to focus on the task at hand.

  Ajos swallowed hard.

  Keh-reh-nah needed the bedding.

  Focus.

  But thinking of her only seemed to make things worse.

  Her touch lingered on his skin and he held back a groan as what felt like a lightning bolt traveled from his nefre straight to his genital pouch.

  Minutes passed as he searched, unable to find anything suitable for the female in his quarters…on his rest slab.

  Inappropriate images of her stretched out over his rest slab flew to his mind and Ajos squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing.

  In that brief silence in his mind, the voices of two other beings within the supply center caught his ear.

  “They are the reason they bombed the base.” The voice was hushed, but he could still hear. Ajos cocked his ears.

  “The Tasqals have never been successful with bombing us before. Why now?” The male snarled.

  “It is those creatures’ fault. The hyoomans.” The word was spat as if it made a sour taste form in the other male’s mouth. “We have lived relatively peacefully. Our sky towers have always protected us. But this stasis hold…” the speaker growled, “I knew it wo
uld bring us trouble from the first day I set sight on it. And now…”

  “They might bomb us again…”

  Ajos stiffened as he listened.

  “The commanders are bound to the code of protecting all who are vulnerable to the Tasqals…including the cause of this disaster. They will do nothing about these new pests.” There was a pause. “We have to do something about it. We have to protect ourselves.”

  “By any means necessary,” the other agreed.

  Ajos was no fool.

  He knew exactly where their thoughts were going and what their conversation meant.

  But to hear such words…

  A sudden rage filled Ajos, so much so he was moving before he even realized what he was doing.

  Turning the corner, he grabbed the male nearest to him, his hand closing around the male’s throat as he slammed him into a shelf.

  Supply boxes fell, their contents scattering with a loud crash.

  “Do something like what?” Ajos growled, his words barely making it through his teeth.

  In his grasp was a Krinqrid, and the male’s purple skin paled. His four arms were flat against the shelf behind him as he lay plastered against it, his terrified gaze locked on Ajos.

  Having not realized Ajos was so close, the friend had stumbled in an effort to escape and now he was trying to regain his footing.

  Ajos’ gaze didn’t even flick to the male scrambling to his feet. His sole focus was the one in his grasp, and his other fist burned with the need to bury it into the male’s flesh.

  It was the gods’ own hands that were holding his fist back from doing what his muscles itched to do most.

  The male stuttered, unable to form words, and Ajos’ rage only grew.

  “Listen to my words,” Ajos snarled, “and listen to them carefully.” He leaned in close so the male could focus on nothing else but him. “If you even have the thought of doing something stupid to the humans…erase it,” he growled, “or I…will…erase…you.”

  The male gulped and nodded vigorously, his gaze flicking to his friend.

  “Ajos?”

  Ajos stiffened at the sound of his name, and he looked sideways to see V’Alen and Hemmil standing there.

  Hemmil’s mouth was wide open in shock while V’Alen’s gaze simply flicked over the fallen items, the Krinqrid in his grasp, then back to him.

  Ajos let go of the Krinqrid so suddenly, the male fell to the floor in a heap.

  He was hardly aware of the male and his friend rushing away with a scramble of limbs.

  “Is everything all right, brother?”

  “Everything is fine.” Ajos squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

  What the hell had gotten into him?

  Sudden fits of rage were not a character trait of his. That was more like his brother, Akur.

  Akur was a ball of Shum’ai rage all-round.

  Ajos wasn’t.

  He was the calm one.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and glanced around the supply center.

  He’d made a mess.

  “I apologize, Hemmil”—his gaze flicked to the Ghanzot—“for the mess.”

  Hemmil’s mouth finally closed. “I have never seen you behave in such a—”

  “Ajos is ill,” V’Alen spoke up, cutting the Ghanzot off and closing the conversation.

  Ajos’ throat moved. He’d never been more appreciative of his friend’s lack of decorum.

  Hemmil’s mouth opened again slightly. “I don’t think I have ever seen Ajos ill either.”

  “He is ill because of the explosions.” V’Alen didn’t wait for Hemmil to question that, he simply stepped in front of the male and addressed Ajos instead. “And it would be wise for him to head back home to rest.”

  Ajos swallowed hard.

  V’Alen was right, as usual.

  “Yes,” he finally managed to say, his gaze flicking over the boxes that had spilled and that’s when he saw an inflatable foam. That should work well for Keh-reh-nah.

  Her name in his mind made an odd feeling develop within him.

  Ignoring it, he grabbed the package and walked toward the door.

  “Leave the mess, Hemmil. I will return to clean it up,” he said as he passed the male.

  He needed some time to think first, and he wanted to be alone.

  Hemmil blinked, his singular eye making that one movement look dramatic. “No, you are ill. Please rest, my friend. I will take care of this.”

  Ajos moved his head in a nod before the doors opened and he walked out.

  There was mild discomfort within him from the lie he just told, but he had no other explanation for his behavior.

  A commander didn’t behave the way he just did. He didn’t behave the way he just did.

  Maybe he was ill.

  He walked in silence, completely aware of the fact that a few steps behind him, V’Alen followed wordlessly.

  He could almost feel his friend’s eyes boring into his back.

  For the next few moments, he tried to ignore it, but nothing was worse than the silent judgment he felt V’Alen meting out behind him.

  Stopping dead in his tracks, Ajos let out a deep breath.

  “Say it.” He turned.

  “You are behaving out of character. I was right to follow you.”

  Annoyance stirred within him and coming close behind it was that rage he was feeling. Ajos squeezed his eyes tight to hold the feelings back.

  “You followed me?” he ground out. “Why?”

  V’Alen paused and a growl left Ajos’ lips that surprised even him.

  “Your nefre is red,” V’Alen finally said. “I have known you for many moons and it has never been red before. That is a cause for concern.” V’Alen studied him. “I took the liberty to investigate on my own.”

  Oh no.

  Ajos turned and began walking again.

  He didn’t want to hear it.

  V’Alen’s form of investigation probably involved digesting every archive on the planet about him.

  It was a blessing and a curse that he could do that.

  V’Alen’s footsteps sounded behind him.

  “You are Shum’ai. Your species’ reproductive cycle is catalyzed when your planet goes through its period of great warmth when it is closest to its star. Because of the strange orbit Tonvuhiri takes, most of the time it is so far away from its star, the planet remains cold. The warm cycle, however…”

  Ajos groaned in annoyance at the words but kept walking anyway.

  V’Alen continued.

  “It is possible the extensive thermal energy from the explosions has catalyzed your reproductive cycle prematurely.”

  Ajos squeezed his eyes shut and held back the growl that was bubbling in his throat.

  “Ajos,” V’Alen said, “You are going into heat.”

  Sometimes, just sometimes, he wished his friend was not as curious as he happened to be.

  Qeffing phek.

  He couldn’t be going into heat.

  He was too far away from Tonvuhiri and even then, the warm cycle of the planet wasn’t until many, many more moons.

  Going into heat…and in the middle of a war?

  He’d just have to find a way to ignore it.

  “Brother, you cannot ignore it. It is already clouding your judgment and influencing your behavior. I am concerned about what it may do to your mental state.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You are not.”

  They were just at their bunker, and Ajos stopped in front of it and turned.

  “Drop it.”

  V’Alen opened his mouth again and Ajos didn’t wait.

  As the door slid open, he slipped inside and all but fled from his prying friend.

  Kerena slipped off the hard bed, her knee-high boots touching the floor.

  The room was warm enough now that she wasn’t shivering anymore, but the cold had reminded her she didn’t have any extra clothes.

  That meant she had one dress,
one pair of shoes, one bra, and one pair of panties.

  Damn.

  Glancing at the bathroom, she took a few steps toward it.

  There was a stall she assumed was the shower and an oval receptacle that must be the toilet.

  It all looked so alien, she wasn’t sure she could even make it work.

  Still, she was filthy.

  There was dust stuck in her hair and on her skin, and even though she was dead tired, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to get a good night’s sleep when she was so icky.

  Her gaze moved to the door.

  She wasn’t sure how to lock it, but after Ajos had left, he hadn’t returned and she hadn’t heard any sounds on the outside either.

  It seemed he had left her alone, or he’d gone to sleep.

  That meant she could probably take a quick shower and air dry before morning.

  Stripping off her clothes, she let them fall to the floor by the bathroom door and walked into the small space.

  Everything was so white, she was impressed at how well the minty-teal alien kept the place clean. But, he was a soldier.

  Every military man she’d met had been tidy.

  It was like walking into a futuristic hospital.

  Even the air smelled super clean and fresh.

  Walking over to the stall, she reached forward to touch the door, and it slid open on its own. Inside was…nothing, just plain white walls.

  Kerena blinked, her mouth falling open as she looked around. Hugging her naked body, she turned and studied the rest of the room.

  Was there some sort of button she was supposed to press?

  But the walls were bare.

  How on earth did he bathe?

  She was about to let go of her plans to take a shower when she scratched her head and her matted hair caught in her fingers.

  No, she really needed to wash. Regardless of how tired she was, she needed to get clean.

  “Ughhhh,” she groaned. “This should be simple. All I want is a shower.”

  Within two seconds, that female voice spoke. “Shower, activated.”

  In the roof above the stall, the ceiling opened, and a rectangular pole descended.

  Kerena could only stare at it wide-eyed and wide-mouthed before it started spraying water into the stall.

  Blinking at it, her mouth formed into an “O.”