by K. A Knight
Clearing my throat, I pull up the screens and show her the basics of travelling. I don’t show her how to warp through space or leap, however, because that would be dangerous. She listens intently, and once I’m confident I have given her sufficient instruction, I sit back and watch her play.
We jerk at first before she gets a handle on it, and then we are gliding through the atmosphere of Oxious. She laughs, sounding so free and happy, it makes my heart clench. I want to hear that sound every day and would do anything to make it happen.
I hear the door to the bridge slide open, but I’m not quick enough to stop what they must see—our mate flying our ship. I’m too lost in the beauty of her laugh and the feel of her body pressed against mine.
“I-Is she flying?” Joss yells.
Vekk.
Ten
Nul
It stays quiet as Shiloh grins at us guiltily and Trov just stares like he did nothing wrong. A yawn splits Shiloh’s face, and I feel like a terrible mate. In a bid to escape the tension and coming argument, I smile softly at her. Her presence is calming, and I find my voice coming easier than normal. “W-Would you like me to show you to your room so you can rest? You must be tired.”
She nods and scoots from Trov’s lap. Shiloh looks at us before turning to Trov and, under her other mates’ watchful gaze, kisses his cheek softly. “Thank you,” she whispers, before turning and heading my way. I watch as Trov grins so wide, his face looks like it might cleave apart. He watches her go with a soft expression I have never seen before. Hell, if she kissed me in thanks, I might have let her fly as well.
I startle when she slips her small, delicate hand into mine and looks up at me kindly. “Ready?” she asks when I don’t move and just continue to stare at her.
Blushing, I duck my head and start to lead her out of the bridge, leaving the others to discuss what happened with Trov. Once she is asleep, we have some business to take care of. We just got an alert.
After we are in the morfka, she leans into my side, her eyes shutting as she yawns again. “I didn’t even realise how tired I was until now,” she murmurs, rubbing her eyes.
“D-Do you need me to carry you?” I inquire nervously. The idea of her that close to me, her delicious body pressed to mine, has me shifting uncomfortably, my cock aching, but I would do it if she asks. It’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same attraction for me, but that’s okay, I had already made up my mind to be her friend. A friend can carry a friend to bed, right?
This is complicated. Scrubbing the back of my neck, I glance down to see her cuddled into my side. The sight makes my heart crack, and my determination to keep my distance falters, but if there is one thing I already know about Shiloh…it’s that she deserves better. Better than me. She deserves someone like Trov who can show her the world, who feels confident enough to touch her, to talk to her and offer her what she needs.
I’m not that, I can never be.
“Not long, then you can sleep,” I assure her softly. Her scent wraps around me, making it hard to breathe as my cock jerks in my pants. I slow my breathing and then stop it all together, not wanting to suck in her scent anymore. It makes me feel wild and very out of control, not something I like.
She makes an affirmative noise and snuggles closer, so I awkwardly pat her back as we come to a stop. Oh, thank vekk.
I rush out of the morfka, making her yelp as she falls forward, stumbling, and I wince. Vekk, why am I so stupid? “Sorry,” I mutter, without looking at her. I quickly turn on my heel and hurry down the walkway, not wanting to see the look on her face, she probably pities me.
I hear her tiny feet slapping against the floor as she scrambles to catch up to me, and I make a mental note to find her some shoes, her feet must be cold. I lead her to the housing section of our ship, which is set out in a giant circle with her room in the middle. I open her door and step inside, standing against the curved walls so she can take it in.
The LED lights around the ceiling flicker on, the floor heating instantly to keep her warm. Her giant, circular bed, that we handmade years ago, sits in the middle of the room, sunken into the floor with steps down to it. The pink, frilly bedding and pillows line it just like we saw from examples with communications from Earth. There is also a dead gfer skin that we dyed the same colour pink, and pink accents here and there. We thought it might make her feel at home.
She stills for a moment, turning to take it all in, and I puff up. She likes it. “Wow,” she murmurs, her eyes wide. “That’s, erm, that’s a lot of pink and frills, like a ten-year-old’s bedroom.”
“That is good, right?” I ask hopefully. She turns to look at me and sighs before nodding.
“Sure, good, yep, let’s go with that,” she replies, before spinning and catching her eyes on the other wall.
The back wall also curves, and she stops and stares at the view. A small smile covers my lips at her reaction—that had been my idea. We had all this in mind when we had the ship built, always hoping we might one day have a mate. “I thought you might like that.”
I tap the silver panel on the wall next to the door. The nanos cover the view like a shield. She whirls to me, so I press it again to show her how to control it, and they fall away, revealing space again in floor-to-ceiling holos projected from the bridge. It’s not a window outside, but it’s still beautiful. Sometimes I come in here just to sit and look out. There is a step down to it where you can sit, so it feels like you are just floating in space, and she perches there now, so I join her.
I often came here at night, watching the stars and planets pass, and wondered, if we had a mate, what would she be like? In my head, she was perfect, she enjoyed my hobbies and liked to read, but Shiloh? She’s even better than I could have imagined.
“It’s breathtaking,” she whispers, and I nod before getting to my feet. I head over to the corner of the room where the storage for her clothes is. We have slowly been filling it for years. I select a nightgown for her and hold it out. She drags herself away from the view to take it from me and holds it in front of her chest.
“Thank you, Nul,” she murmurs, and then turns and starts to tug at her makeshift dress. I quickly spin, my face flaming as I look at the wall. “Fuck a duck. Nul, could you give me a hand?”
“Nope,” I blurt out, and then bang my head on the wall. “I mean, of course.” I can do this, helping her out of her clothes is no big deal, seeing all that perfect, creamy skin covering her mouth-watering curves is trivial.
Turning, I keep my eyes locked on her confused ones as I deftly untie the knot and then spin back to face the wall. I hear her laugh slightly, then the rustle of fabric until a tap comes at my shoulder. “You can look now, I’m dressed.”
I turn and see she is, so I relax a little.
“You guys really like pink,” she mumbles, sighing as she climbs down into the bed and slips under the sheet, her head hitting the pillow as she wiggles to get comfy. “I swear I’m normally better company, but I’m so tired. Will you stay until I fall asleep?” She peers up at me, her bright green eyes filled with hope.
“O-Of course,” I stutter, and stand there nervously, making her laugh again.
“Come here.” She pats the bed, and my eyes fly wide open. I shake my head straight away. “Nul, I won’t bite…unless you want me to,” she teases.
I move as close as I dare and sit on the top step to watch her. She closes her eyes, and I sigh. She must be really tired. Standing silently, I start to walk away, and just as I reach the door, I hear her voice.
“Goodnight, Nul,” she calls sleepily, and I freeze half out of the doorway. My brain tells me not to look back, I shouldn’t cross these lines, but I can’t help it.
Numbers flash before my mind, lighting up the air in front of me, and I grip my hair to force them away. Breathing slowly, I pull my hands away from my head and sigh. I turn and go to answer her, but when I do, her eyes are closed and her breathing is already even. She’s asleep. She looks like a princess, so beaut
iful and untouchable, too perfect to be real. I find my feet pulling me back in her direction until I stand over her. The only reason I am brave enough to reach out and push back a strand of her ruby red hair is because she is slumbering. “Goodnight, princess.”
I force myself away from her door and back into the morfka, which takes me to the cafeteria. The others are already waiting as I grab a seat.
“Is she okay?”
“Did she like the room?”
“Was she naked?”
I blink at the rapid-fire questions. “She’s fine, she’s sleeping. Check for yourself if you want.”
“That’s right! The cameras!” Cryk whoops and drags his tablet closer, frantically typing until the camera feed from Shiloh’s room comes up. She is still asleep in the same position. All of us crowd closer, just watching her for a moment.
“She’s beautiful,” Joss whispers.
“I can’t wait to taste her,” Cryk murmurs.
“She’s so small, like a pocket human,” Trov adds, and we all roll our eyes.
“Okay, what did we need to meet about?” I inquire, distracting them from staring at her, even though I already know the answer. I catch them throwing her more looks as we begin our meeting, and find myself doing the exact same thing.
“They are getting bolder. Another vessel was spotted just over twenty thousand kiles out,” Trov growls, smashing his fist onto the table. “We only hunted the last one two rotations ago, which means they have more numbers than we thought. This isn’t a few rogue Yareks wanting revenge.” Trov pulls up a unilet, pointing to all the areas where sightings have occurred. “This is an attack, the first wave, so we need to be on high alert. I have instructed our command to keep watch and send us notifications, the kings are in agreement.”
“What about the Batil or civilian Totiv? What are the kings’ stance on telling them?” Joss questions, taking notes.
“Nothing as of yet,” Cryk replies, serious for once. “They don’t want panic to spread when civilians see hunting parties taking to the stars. Orders are to monitor the situation and deal with it the best we can. So…” Cryk looks at me. “What are your suggestions?”
Drumming my fingers across the smooth, metal surface of the table, I think through the problem. I discard ideas that won’t work as percentages flash through my brain with each option. I can feel my brots staring at me, wondering what I will come up with.
“I agree with the kings,” Joss chimes in. “Informing the public is not yet necessary. I will keep my ear to the ground to ensure no whispers get out. Our Vultana will be the distraction they need anyway and cause for celebration in case they begin to catch wind of this.”
“Good,” Trov replies, and then looks at me. “Nul?”
“We should put the nile around the planet, better to be safe than sorry—”
“The shielding net?” Cryk interrupts.
I nod in affirmation. “Yes, then we know they can’t sneak up from below us. I will also work harder on the stealth technology we have been aiming towards. That would allow us to sneak up on them and even board their ships. We could use some Yarek prisoners to question, to understand their numbers and battle strategy. It would be beneficial for us to stay stationed above Oxious,” I reason.
“I agree,” Joss interjects.
“Then that is what we do,” Trov agrees. “I will put in the request for the nile, but I do not think it will be approved. It would raise too many questions from civilians. We have a mate to protect now, mishans, let’s not vekk this up.” Trov spins, sends our request off on his tablet, then turns his dark gaze back to us. “Sharp eyes to the sky, brots,” Trov growls, voice low and rumbling. I duck my head, and he stands, clapping me on the back. I spot Joss standing and slipping from the room, obviously realising the meeting is over.
“Get me that stealth tech,” is all Trov says, before stomping away.
Cryk leans back in his chair, still intently watching Shiloh on the tablet in the middle of the table. We both lean closer when her door opens. “That vekking mishan,” Cryk curses with a laugh.
Eleven
Joss
I was relieved to leave that meeting. Just talking about the Yarek puts me on edge, but seeing and hearing the evidence of their obvious plans to attack stirs something deep inside me.
A profound, protective instinct.
Protect my mate at all costs.
Even if that cost is my life.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Shiloh. Hungry? I’ll make her a feast. Bored? I’ll take her out to play. Scared? Happy? Sad? I’ll be there to hold her hand and go through the journey with her.
How quickly she’s become everything to me.
To us.
Only one day ago, we were standing inside Forsaken Mountain wondering if it would be our time. The decades of having our blood drawn, of being denied the right to fight for a mate because our blood didn’t mix with the Harvest Girls’ biology, have finally come to a close.
Because we finally vekking matched.
I knew she was ours the moment the ship containing her entered the atmosphere of Oxious. I could feel a change in the air, a different scent in the breeze. I felt it in my very vekking soul. My gut twisted and my heart stopped beating as the pull to my mate washed over my body. As if my very being was being torn apart and remade for her.
Even the brief periods I’ve been with her have been life altering. My life has been taken over by obsessive tendencies—counting my steps, straightening every picture, and making all the beds to ensure they’re done just right—to make it perfect.
For her.
But just like during the heat of battle, when I’m with her, all of that disappears and my head goes silent, allowing me to think about what I desire versus what my obsession wants.
After slipping out of the meeting, I head to the housing level to clean up and rest. It’s been a long few days and my body is now paying for it. Dried blood from the Klans and the monsters we fought and slaughtered, plus the sticky residue from the Xandix poison, still clings to my skin. The odour is thick and caustic, not allowing Shiloh’s sweet scent to penetrate through.
I need this shit off me now.
My fingers itch to pick at the dried blood, the caked on dirt, but I swallow down the need and fight it. Instead, I focus on the perfect visual I saw on Cryk’s tablet screen.
Shiloh.
Sleeping in her pink nightgown with a look of contentment on her face. Knowing she was able to fall asleep so quickly comforts me. That has to mean she trusts us to watch over her, to see to her needs, to protect her.
The short ride on the morfka from the meeting to housing does nothing to reduce the ache in my pants. Instead of dwelling on my throbbing cock, I bask in the knowledge that my safe place where I can relax is just beyond the morkfa’s doors. I can smell my room before it even opens, the potent scent of cleaning products washing over me. I inhale deeply, the sterile fragrance immediately calming me.
Taking another deep breath, I walk inside, letting my brain decompress. I don’t have to obsess in here, count the tiles, or straighten the pictures because I’ve already done those things. I already know all the answers. My quarters are kept clean by me. Sure, we have bots on J-Lo to aid in many tasks a Klan of generals might require, but I prefer to do it the old-fashioned way—by hand.
Each of our rooms are ample in size. The main living area contains a sunken section in the center where our couch and viewing screen are. Beyond that is a kitchen, which is fully stocked with all my favourite items. My bedroom is through a door on the left wall, and to my right is a large glass window, allowing me to see out into space.
I keep my room plain. White walls with a splash of red decor keep my space simple, functional, and uncluttered.
Ahh.
Turning left, I make my way past the couch and into my bedroom. I don’t even look at my large, four-poster bed, but head straight around it and into my bathroom. Reaching into the shower, I turn the w
ater on and allow it to warm. I could use the automatic shower, a scanner-like cleaner that uses different light rays to incinerate dirt from our bodies, but I like to do it myself. The combination of water running down my frame and the ability to scrub my skin helps me feel more hygienic.
Reaching down, I gingerly remove my pants, not wanting any of the grime stuck to the fabric to fall onto my floor. After snaking the pants off my legs, I drop it through an opening in the wall where my dirty clothes are taken to the laundry bots for washing.
“Ahhh,” I groan audibly, stepping into the hot water, the droplets raining down on me. At first, I don’t move, standing still under the spray, allowing it to soak me. Letting it ease my muscles and permit my mind to wander. Once my skin is saturated, I reach for the soap and begin the cleaning process.
It’s the same every time.
Hair, wings, body, then feet. I repeat the process twice, liking things done in even numbers. The showers are massive, allowing us to spread both our wings to their fullest extent at the same time. Custom showerheads, made just for our wings, rinse them with ease.
Thinking about my wings brings back a memory of Shiloh. The expression on her face when she flew with Trov off Forsaken Mountain was pure bliss. As younglings, we grow our wings during the second transformation stage of growth, meaning I’ve had them for over a century. It’s been so long since I haven’t had wings that I have forgotten what being flightless feels like.
So restricting.
Again, her face flitters through my mind. She’s with Trov, her tiny hand piloting J-Lo. Our girl, no, our mate enjoys the air as much as we do.
Speaking of my mate…
I turn and tap the viewing screen in my shower and bring up the feeds from her room. She’s still sleeping. Of course she is. That poor thing has had a long day and humans are not used to the elongated days on Oxious. It’s the middle of the night for her right now.