Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Does this mean I have to let him go? I pull away from him, and the only thing that makes me happy about that is that he seems reluctant to let me go also.
He takes me by the hand and leads me onward. “What were they talking about?” I ask him, keeping my voice hushed.
Mardok stops at a panel full of lights and begins to tap at buttons. “They were discussing options.”
“Options?”
My mate glances over his shoulder at me. “We’re not equipped to be a rescue ship. They’re trying to figure out if we’ve got enough food or fuel to bring your people with us, and if we do, what happens to our cargo we’ve already been paid for.”
I do not follow some of his words, and shake my head. “Go with you? Go with you where?”
The wall opens, pulling back to reveal a small chamber. In it, I see several large, square objects I do not recognize, and one I do—his furs. This must be where he sleeps. The walls are bare of any pleasant hangings, and the floor has no furs to block the cold. It looks very bare and unfriendly, this cave, and I feel sad for him that he must spend his time in such a place.
He pulls me inside, and the wall shuts behind him. I look around, hugging my arms. It is overwarm in here, like it is in every chamber of this ship. “Do you live here by yourself?”
“Yeah. The others have their own private chambers. We’re a small ship, but not that small.” He moves past me and begins to straighten things on a flat surface—more strange, square shapes. His people must love squares. “I’m sorry the place is a mess.”
“Is it?”
Mardok flashes me a grin and then hurriedly straightens the thin-looking bed furs, then indicates I should sit there. I do, and he sits down across from me on the only stool in the chamber, spinning around. “I’m sorry dinner was such a shitshow.”
I do not know the word, but the meaning is clear. “I did not know your customs. I apologize—”
Mardok looks angry at my words. He leans forward and clasps my hand in his. “There is nothing to apologize for, Farli. The captain did not believe your story, and I think it was all a test. And Trakan? He’s just an asshole. Don’t let them get to you.”
My khui begins to sing a soft song as I become acutely aware of my hand in his. “I will not. But…where do they want to take my people?”
Now Mardok looks confused. “Away from here. Your people are stranded.”
Are we? I had no idea. “I see. I would need to talk it over with my chief.” I am not entirely sure I like the idea, though he and his people seem to think it is a done deal. “Where would we go?”
“Well, I imagine you’d need to go to Homeworld first. That’s a planet called Kes. It’s where our people come from, and it’s the seat of everything. You’d have to go there. Get your records established. From there, I guess you could go to my planet. It’s nice. Lots of green trees, clear waters, many beaches.”
I think of the food at dinner—bland and tasteless. I glance around this chamber, all squares and empty walls. I think of how the others acted at dinner. And I do not want to hurt his feelings, so I just smile. It is clear to me that he will need to live with us, instead of me going to live with him. “Your family is on your world?”
His expression grows distant. He lets go of my hand and sits back. “I don’t have any family left.”
My heart aches for him. “Did you lose them to a sickness? Over twenty turns of the seasons ago, we lost a great many in our tribe to the khui-sickness. I am lucky in that I did not lose my parents or my brothers, but I know many who did.”
“Did you get sick?” he asks me, clearly trying to steer the conversation back toward me.
“I did not. I was a young kit. Very young. My khui was new and strong, I think. Perhaps that helped.”
“Your symbiont?” He leans forward, scooting his stool closer to me, and his gaze fixes on my eyes. I feel the heat pulse through my body again, and I wish he would take my hand once more. I want to put it on my teat again and see if he responds how he did before or if he is interested. Even if he does not resonate to me—yet—I am content to pleasure-mate with him. He is the first male I have wanted to even try it with. Ever since I met him, I can think of nothing but what it would feel like to have him touch me. “Can you feel it inside you?” he asks.