by K Webster
“Perhaps it was another malfunction like with Molly’s pod,” someone on a walkie-talkie sort of thing says.
“You didn’t check her before you left?” Oz demands, his words punctuated by a loud popping sound. I sure hope he didn’t break something.
“Of course I did.” The one on the other side of the walkie-talkie is a rekker they call Avrell. I assume he’s some sort of doctor because after Oz realized I was awake, he’d called the others, who insisted they call Avrell to check my vitals. “She was stable when I left. I’d given her a shot of microbots to see if that would solve the issue of her not waking up from cryosleep. It was either that or do nothing. Whatever seemed to be wrong with her must have been fixed. Truly it’s a miracle she even woke.”
“Microbots?” I ask, horrified. “Robots?”
“Microbots,” says one of the human women they call Aria. “We use them to cure injuries. We were unable to wake you when we decided to wake the others. Avrell is our doctor. He’s out of the facility at the moment helping others in our faction at the prison.”
I gulp. “Prison?”
I can’t see her expression, but from her response I imagine it to be encouraging. “Don’t worry. No one here or there will hurt you. They’re just doing this examination as a precaution to make sure there is nothing else wrong with you.”
“We know this is all very overwhelmin’, sugar, but we’ll explain everythin’ once Oz and Avrell have looked you over real good.”
I nod and try to remember to breathe. It had all seemed so easy when it was only the smooth-talking Oz in the room with me. Then he’d yelled for someone called You Vee and they’d summoned the others. Four arachnid types and three of their mates. There was barely enough room, what little of it I could see, to fit all of them in the hospital room where I’d been sleeping.
“All right,” I whisper. I could be wrong, but I think Oz looks at me. Oh, how I wish I could see his face to know what he’s thinking. It makes me feel terribly naked to not be able to see everything around me. I already have a bad enough time reading social cues as it is, what if I’m making a complete boob out of myself? Then I wonder if I’m mentally unsound because a normal person would be freaking out at the thought of being kidnapped by aliens. I should be more upset!
“Her heart rate has spiked,” Oz murmurs to Avrell. “But this could be because all these mortarekkers are in here gawking at her like she’s some sort of experiment.”
Aria—I’m already starting to pair the voices to names—says, “Oz is right. We should give them some room. Oz, why don’t you bring her to the Navigation Bay once she’s settled so we can get her a room, some food, and a proper introduction without all the craziness? Breccan and I will want an update on her condition when you’re through.”
“Yes, Madam Commander, of course,” Oz replies, although his tone doesn’t sound very deferential. That would be the rascal I’ve come to know. He pretends to be very polished on the outside, but if I read him correctly, he’s got a little bit of a devil underneath.
“We can’t wait to officially meet you,” comes the twangy voice from earlier. She’d told me her name, but I’ve already forgotten it. I’m usually so good at remembering things.
“Are you experiencing any pain or trouble breathing?” Avrell asks over the walkie-talkie.
“Maybe a little anxiety,” I admit.
“That’s to be expected,” Avrell replies, all business. “According to the information collected by Ozias from a quick physical, it doesn’t seem as though you’ve suffered any ill effects from the cryosleep pods. Whatever was keeping you in a coma has resolved itself. Provided that she shows no difficulty breathing, problems with cognition or general malaise, I give her a clean bill of health. Now if that will be all, I must return to my patients here before this rekking woman drives them all to an early grave.” With a click, the line goes dead before I can thank him for his time or ask any questions.
“Ready to get out of this place, Whisper?” Oz asks. “I can give you a tour of the facility if you’re feeling up to it.”
“You bet. Um, the only thing is I’ll need some clothes if you don’t mind.” I wonder if he can hear the tremor in my voice. I’ve been safe inside this room, relatively at least. Stepping outside it would mean there’s no going back.
“I’ve got a minnasuit out here for you to change into. I’ll give you privacy, I promise.”
I nod. “Okay,” I say softly.
He places a suit made of a material I’ve never seen before on the bed beside me, then respectfully gives me his back—what little I can see of it. I’d never really cursed my terrible eyesight until this moment. I’ve always had glasses to mitigate that shortcoming. Or contacts, when I could bare to wear them.
I wish I had them so I could see what he looks like, even if it’s only his back. To put a face to the name, to the voice I’ve come to know, even if only after a short while. But all I see is a trim, tall body with wiry shoulders encased in a skin-tight suit. His shoulder-length hair curls around his neck in a dark slash and I wonder as I tug on my own suit if maybe he’d let me touch it to see how it feels.
It takes some doing, but I manage to squeeze myself into the suit. My hair falls around my face in a disordered array of riotous curls, but I feel around on the table next to me and find a writing instrument of some sort. In a habit more ingrained in me than breathing, I twist my hair up into a bun and stick the thin cylindrical shape through to hold it. That alone makes me feel more like myself, even if my face feels naked.
“You can turn around now.”
He does and clears his throat when he sees me. “Follow me,” he says.
“Wait—wait a second.”
He pauses. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.” I bite my lip, switching from foot to foot. “I just can’t see.”
“Are you blind, my Whisper?” He lifts a hand as though to touch my face, then lets it fall back to his side. “Never matter. Calix’s mate, Emery, had troubled lungs. I will find a way to fix your troubled eyes.”
“I’m not blind,” I say and try to order myself not to blush at how he called me his. “I just can’t see very well. I’m afraid if you start wandering off, I may get lost. Perhaps this was a bad idea. I can go to the place the women were talking about earlier. I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”
Oz moves closer and I catch his scent. Like the tang of metal laced with grease and the musk of man. What a lovely smelling arachnid he is. He lifts a hand to me and offers his elbow. “Take my arm,” he says and it’s hard not to be reminded of the knights from fairy tales, even if he may look more like a monster. Not that I would know. “I’ll make sure you won’t get lost.”
I do, and I hope I’m not wrong to revel in how right it feels to have him as an anchor.
2
Ozias
Thirteen Solars Left
Her small hand gripping my arm has warmth slinking through my veins. Quinn is the most beautiful alien I’ve ever seen. There’s something about her that’s different than the rest. Quiet strength. Hidden determination. A pulse beneath her surface that I want to tap into.
It’s always the quiet ones.
That’s what Molly said once when she came across my special contraption crate, even going as far as to calling my workspace the Little Shop of Horrors. The tools she found were ones designed for a mort’s pleasure. It’s rekking lonely when you don’t have a mate, and your hand is only so exciting. I feel no shame for getting creative.
A robotic hand?
A sleeve designed to fit the girth of your cock, slicked with oil?
A clamp for your sac to prolong the release of your seed?
Definitely keeps things fresh in that regard. Jareth, the filthy mortarekker, has raided my crate on more than one occasion. He’s also known to come up with new ideas and set me on course to build them.
“Can you see colors?” I ask, glancing over at the beautiful alien.<
br />
Her smile is shy. “I can. I just can’t see anything with clarity.”
“Calix wears spectacles that belonged to his father. I think we could replicate them for you.”
“Oh, Oz, I’d be so grateful.”
I puff out my chest, already feeling as though I’m a decent mate for my female.
“Want me to show her around?” Sayer asks, popping up around the corner. “I know you’ve been working on the weapon and would probably like to get back to it.”
I bristle at the idea of another mort handling Quinn. The thought of them touching her irritates me. “It’ll be brief and then she’s going to help me.”
Sayer lifts a brow, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. “I see. Anything I can assist with?”
“Actually,” I say, stopping in front of him. “I need several items. Can you gather them and put them in my room?”
He pulls out a tablet and begins jotting down everything I request. A smirk tugs at his lips when I ask for extra bedding and clothing for Quinn. Of course she’s staying with me. It’s the safest place for her.
“Got it. It’ll be there when you finish,” he assures me.
I give him a nod and then show Quinn the various sectors of the facility. I keep it brief, knowing she can’t see them anyhow.
“Come on,” I say, guiding her to the door that leads to the underground wells. “I have an idea that will serve two purposes.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re going swimming. But don’t tell our commander, Breccan. It’s forbidden.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Are we going to get in trouble?”
“No one’s going to find out, Whisper.” I wink at her and usher her down the stairs. “And if they do, we’ll deny it all.”
She lets out a breathy laugh that makes my cock twitch in my minnasuit. “It sounds as though you’re used to getting away with things.”
“There are other morts around here who do a good job of attracting the attention on themselves. I simply keep my trouble to the shadows where no one can see.”
“What’s in that door?” she asks, pausing to squint.
“Reform cells. They don’t get much use.” I tug her along. “Come on. I want you to see this.”
Her smile falls, making my heart drop with it. “I hope I can.”
We make it to the door that leads to the underground wells. As soon as I push through, the cool air in the cavernous area slithers around us. Quinn shivers and leans against my arm.
“What is this place?”
“It’s where our drinking water is taken from. We sanitize it and filter it, but Breccan still doesn’t want us swimming in it.” I step away from her and unzip my minnasuit. “But I need something from the bottom. Can you swim?”
“I can swim. I want to help. What are we getting?”
“Haxagranules.”
“Haxa what?”
“It’s hard to explain, but it’s plentiful at the bottom.” I peel my suit down and let it hang at my waist. I snag a canister that we sometimes use to collect edible creatures from the wall and then pick up another one for Quinn. “We’ll swim to where they’re located, fill these up, and bring them to the top.”
“Are we skinny-dipping?” She bites on her bottom lip, her cheeks burning crimson as she eyes my bare chest.
I cock my nog to the side as I set the canisters down at our feet. “I do not know this term.”
“Swimming naked.”
A groan slips past my lips. “You can keep your suit on, but I swim better without mine.”
“Me too,” she breathes, squinting up at me.
Reaching up, I tug on one of her kinky curls, watching it bounce cheerfully. “I will see everything of yours,” I utter in a low, husky tone. “And you won’t see anything of mine.”
“There’s not much to see.”
“I beg to differ, Quinn. From where I’m standing, there’s not enough time to look at everything I want to see. Thirteen solars may be all I have. Feels pretty rekking inadequate.”
Her pink, pouty lips part and then curve into a smile. “Can you come closer?”
I step until our chests touch, angling my nog down close to hers. She tentatively cups my cheeks, ghosting her hands over them. When I bare my fangs at her, she gasps and then lets out a giggle.
A giggle!
“My double fangs are spectacular, Whisper. Not amusing.” I can’t help but grin at her. “I don’t feel as though you’re impressed.”
“Oh, I’m impressed,” she murmurs. “You’re like my favorite arachnid. Spiders. So furry and cute.”
I scratch at my nog. “You think I’m furry?”
“And cute.”
“But you can’t see me.”
Her thumbs brush along my jaw and to my lips. “I’ve seen enough.”
I playfully nip at her thumbs with my double fangs. “Do your spiders bite?”
“They do. Some are poisonous. They inject their venom into their prey through their hollow fangs.”
“We inject ours through our cocks.”
She snorts out a laugh. “W-What?”
“Aria sometimes calls it voodoo venom, but it’s really called toxica.” I take her wrists in my hands, loving how delicate her bones feel in my grip. “It renders the female useless. The male can then do whatever he wants.”
“Oh.”
“But we are not Kevins,” I murmur, locking my eyes with her brilliant blue ones. “We care for our mates, never take advantage of them.”
“Does it hurt?”
“According to the others, it does not.”
I release her hands and step away so I don’t do something insane like strip her, claiming her right now. Turning my back so she won’t see my straining cock, I strip out of the minnasuit and pick up one of the canisters. I glance over, expecting her to be watching me with unease much like all the other females when they first woke.
Not my alien.
My alien is unzipping her minnasuit and pulling the zuta-metal tool from her hair, sending her chaotic curls bouncing down over her full breasts.
Don’t look.
Don’t rekking look.
But how is one supposed to turn away from the most beautiful thing he has ever seen?
It’s impossible.
Her curves beg to be touched. I crave to run my clawed fingertips over her smooth skin and nip at the soft parts of her with my double fangs. Every male part of me screams to part her lovely thighs and inhale all the sweet female parts of her.
Focus, Oz.
Duty first. Wooing the female onto your cock later.
“The creatures are harmless,” I explain, my voice husky. “Grab that canister and we’ll head down.”
She scoops up the canister and then takes my offered hand. I walk her to the shallow end of the water. We step down several rocks before dropping into the crystal blue depths.
“It’s warm,” she says, gasping. “I expected it to be freezing.”
“Hadrian used to always get reamed by Breccan for swimming down here when he wasn’t supposed to.” I chuckle as I walk her to the edge of the last rock. Her dark hair floats all around us and I peek at her lovely breasts beneath the surface.
“Did I meet him? There’s too many names to keep up with.”
“No, he’s at the prison with some of the others.”
“Are they rekkers too?”
I snort. “More like mortarekkers. You ready?”
“Yes.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I release her and then dive down into the crystal depths of the water. Tiny creatures swim away, frightened by my presence. I swim toward the bottom that glistens and shimmers. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m stunned to see the beautiful alien swimming toward me. My cock is hard and I’m thankful she can’t see the state of arousal I’m in. When she gets closer, I motion for her to follow me. Toward the bottom is a crevasse in the rock wall. I swim into the hole through a short channel that opens into a small room with
an air pocket. It goes even deeper here, so the air pocket comes in handy.
I reach for her hand, hauling her to the pocket of air. Only tall enough for our nogs to poke into.
We both breathe heavily, sucking in some much-needed air as we tread water. She’s especially beautiful with her dark hair slicked back and droplets of water dotting her face.
“You doing okay?” I ask, reaching up to hold on to a low-hanging rock that juts out like an arm so I don’t have to tread water.
She takes my lead and also grabs onto a similar rock. Our bodies are so close, her breasts brush against my chest.
“You’re brave, little alien.” Pride thrums through me. Of course my mate would be the bravest and most beautiful.
Good things come to those who wait, as Molly always says.
“I always wanted to be brave,” she says, her lips pulling into a frown. “Like the heroines in all the stories I read. It’s not that easy.”
“You’re swimming with a terrifying double-fanged beast like myself,” I say, grinning. “Naked. Quite aware of the fact my cock is filled with voodoo venom. And you’re smiling. Brave, Whisper. So brave.”
“In one of the books I read, the beast was the hero.” She bats her wet lashes. “And the heroine loved books.”
“Sounds like a good tale.”
“One of my favorites.”
“I’m sorry to say the only books we have here are instruction manuals. And…” I fight a grin. “Others.”
“What others?”
“Well, one in particular.”
“What’s it about?”
“Mating.” My cock jolts, brushing against her thigh.
“I think I’d like to read it.” She sighs. “If we can ever find me a pair of glasses. Maybe you’ll have to read it to me.”
If we keep talking, I won’t propose reading it to her. I’ll suggest a one-on-one instruction of every rekking thing I’ve learned in that book. One that requires the use of not one, but all of the contraptions Jareth designed.
“Let’s take care of one thing at a time,” I rumble. “Hold your breath again. It’s deep here.”
We both suck in a deep breath and then head down. It’s dark, but as we near the bottom, it’s illuminated by the haxagranules. As soon as we reach them, I show Quinn how to scoop them into the canister. We quickly fill the bins and head back up to the air pocket.