ABDUCTED, AUCTIONED, & STOLEN BY AN ALIEN

by Amanda Milo

Copyright © 2017 Amanda Milo

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Devoted...

To the R: 7 years together and I do a bang up job of making sure you're not bored.  You’re welcome.

Also, thank you for providing inspiration for this book where you did.  I’ll let my readers’ imagination decide what parts.

To N: I don’t care what you say.  A Cursed Land is one of the funniest and most poignant books I’ve ever read.

To Mom: Told you I’d get you to read an alien romance. ;)

1

AROKH

The sound was pure terror and pain.

When it came again, it echoed off the walls and set my teeth on edge.  It primed something inside me, something I couldn’t explain.

I was up and moving out of the tack room I’d rented a bed in and heading to the stables before I could stop myself.  I knew what happened on this scumfilled planet of miscreants.  The chattel being bought up was intended for three things: fucking, working, and food.  Sometimes even in that order.  What buyers did with their purchases was none of my teveking business – save for one exception – and only if I was even searching in the right place.  Me sticking my snout into where it didn’t belong was a superb way to wreck up my part in this mission.  What I would risk by interfering would not be worth it.  Could not possibly be worth it.

But when that odd cry sounded again, I barely checked the urge to run.  My instincts were in an uproar.

Quieting my booted steps on the cobblestone as best I could without sacrificing swiftness, I now followed the sounds of an argument.  The guttural words belonged to the dirtiest, dumbest beings this side of the galaxy.  My scales tightened.  Krortuvians.

“My purse was the biggest to be tossed in.  Without it, you wouldn’t have won the bid for it.  I get to fuck it first…  Ouch!  Watch the mouth - little bitch almost bit off my pincer.  Hold it tighter!  Keep it still!”

The words did as much to set my hearts racing as did the next scream to erupt from the stall.

The scene I came upon froze the very marrow in my bones.

A group of Krortuvians stood huddled in a circle.  One of the dirty beasts was bent low, his suit drooping around all of his thin segmented legs.  I glimpsed a small form beneath him.

The rough, angry cry came again and it caused my dorsal spines to bristle so hard they stood straight up.

Agonized whimpers ripped from the female’s throat as she struggled, trying to free her wrists and tuck her rump to avoid the sticky cocks weeping green pus.

I grimaced in sympathy.  And horror.

Krortuvian legs may be light and agile enough to traverse the mess of webs they build their cities with, but they are not ideal for gripping, and one lost his hold on the female’s wrists.  She tried to buck away but the big one over her back pinned her roughly to the floor, her mane of beautiful, gleaming hair contrasting starkly and perverse against dirty stone as he bumped his hips over hers, trying to line himself up.

I didn’t think.

I roared.  Before I could register what I was doing, I ripped him off and snapped his neck with an ease that did nothing to sate the battlelust coursing through me.  The two nearest didn’t have time to so much as grab a weapon from their belts.  Grasping a fistful of their scalp hairs in each of my hands, I brought them together with enough force to dent in their skulls.

There.  That felt a little more satisfying.

The last one had palmed a jolt pistol but before he could activate it, I introduced his head to the floor once, twice, three times.  The last strike left the bones of his face flattened, the damage beyond Krortuvian healing abilities.

Yes.  Much better.

Sobs and the sounds of scrambling had me whirling back to the female.  My hearts seized beating.

A Gryfala.

How in the Creator’s name had they gotten ahold of a Gryfala?  Her people would be furious when they learned of what had been done to her.  I would not be surprised to find a horde of hobs descending on this forsaken rock any moment.

Stark terror shone in every facet of her abused body.  She hunched stiffly and repeated her sounds with the addition of a shouted word.  “FUCK No!  No-no-no!”

Strange.  She wasn’t speaking gryph.  I shelved that mystery to return to the visual examination.  She was so tiny.  I crouched, and she instantly fell silent.  Her eyes were wide, and her breath came in pants but it was as if she hoped that by remaining still, she wouldn’t attract further attention.

The bruises that animal had left on her were beginning to bloom.  It was difficult, but I managed to calm myself enough to release a gentle purr just like her males could do, hoping the familiar sound would soothe her a little.

Oddly enough, it only seemed to startle her more.

Of course I’d never had the opportunity to actually try my purring skill (or lack thereof) with a real Gryfala, but when in my tender years, I’d tried to mimic the hobs’ calls like all young males did, while day dreaming of belonging to the service of a Gryfala someday.

Judging by her wide eyed expression, I should have practiced more.

After a few moments, I gave up and tried to speak to her instead.  “Sweethearts, you’re okay now.  Come here.”  I opened my arms to her, but she didn’t move.

Gryfala had inherent trust in my kind’s integrity.  The same way my kind instinctively felt the need to protect the females of her species.  It was innate, instinctive, natural.

What awful things had been done to her to sever that?  She should never have need to hesitate.

“Princess, do not be afraid.  You know I will not cause you harm.”  I gestured to the carnage around us.  “As you might have guessed, I am a Gladiator Prime of the Rakhii;” I emphasized this with a knock of my tailspines to the cobblestone.  “I will keep you safe.”

She remained huddled near the ground.  I tried to think quickly.  Her form was so small.  Maybe… even the thought turned my stomach.  Maybe she was a fledgling?

Maybe she had been abducted as a hatchling.  That would explain the way she was staring at me… as if she’d never seen a Rakhii before.  The trust between her clan and mine was instinctual but if she had been kept away from her kind somehow…

Perhaps touch would awaken it.  And, I told myself, I couldn’t very well comfort her from the other side of this barn.  Simply leaping on her could be dangerous if she defended herself, and she would be within rights to punish me severely if she felt I was overstepping my place.  My tail thrashed with indecision.

She scuttled back.

If they hadn’t bound her so tightly in that odd clothing, her wings would be rattling at me, a clear ‘back-off’ signal just now, I was sure of it.

I cocked my head and considered that if she had no kinship sense kicking in, having me swoop down on her would frighten her even more.  Maybe if I snatched her up very quick…  Her eyes narrowed, as if she could read mind.  She flexed her little fingers threateningly, ready to protract her claws.  I was reminded of the time when I was not much more than the size she was now when I grabbed a feral yanak to save it from qiizibeasts.  Without realizing that my intentions were good, the creature fell back on its last resort; its sharp teeth and firebrand tail had driven into my skin painfully.  And the howling had caused my ears to ring for blinks.

But I could see no other way to go about this.

I reached for her.

As expected, she batted at me… but no claws pierced my skin.

When I managed to grab her, my wrist spines automatically came to rest flat against my skin - this surprised me; however, now the little female wouldn’t poke herself as she struggled.  I noted that her hands might as well have been fitted with mittens considering how ineffectual they were for the purpose of defense.  Perhaps they had declawed her?  How upsetting to think.  She grasped one of my forearms.  I relaxed it in case she wanted to hug it to her chest.  Her kind was as tactile as mine and she was obviously in need of comfort.

Instead, she brought it to her mouth with ferocious speed – and I don’t know if it was something I saw in her expression, or if it was instinct – but I had the strange premonition that she might instead try to bite…

And bite me she did.  I flinched out of reflex but relaxed when I processed that there was more pressure than there was pain.  And oddly, her teeth felt frightfully flat.  Not even puncturing my scales…

I stopped reeling her in and instead used my free hand to peel back her lip.  Cretins!  They had filed her teeth.  “By the Creator!”  I said in horror as by touch I was realizing something else.

She clamped her jaws down harder when I moved my free hand over the smooth rounds of her shoulders.

My hearts sank.

Smooth.  Too smooth.  I had thought they were folded under her clothes but no.

They had clipped her wings.

“Oh, little sweet one,” I whispered brokenly.  They had tortured and abused this tiny Gryfala.  I hugged her closer and she fought harder.  I brushed my thumbs over her bruises and tried to tamp down my rage.  I gently began to tug at her skirt covering, smoothing it down over her and setting her to rights.

She went still.  Then her eyes rolled up to meet mine.  I saw her confusion.

And hope.

As if it had just occurred to her that I was not going to repeat her degradation.

She released my scales from her mouth and pulled back.  I noted that her saliva was clear, warm, and not frothy.  I brought my arm to my nose so I could sniff it.  No toxin or venom that I could detect.  Did she have any defenses left to her at all?

“Did they take your venom sacs?”

No change in her expression.  At all.  “You can’t understand a word I say, can you?”

She just looked at me, eyes still wide, and going a bit glassy.  That couldn’t be good.  Shock.  I needed to get her warm, and make her feel safe.  “Aww,” my hearts squeezed with empathy for all I could imagine she’d been through.  “Worry no more, princess.”

I stroked her back, and after a few minutes, she relaxed into me, her arms coming around my neck.  And she began to sob harder.

When she quieted, I rose with her in my arms.  She stiffened, but didn’t fight me.

Even over the Krortuvian stink, she smelled good.

I felt my spirit quicken.

That… that was only supposed to happen-

It couldn't be that.

No.  It couldn't be the bonding process.  I must have misheard.  Or this was simply-

I didn’t know.  Frankly, I’d not paid attention to the Rahkii that attended to a gryfala, but this certainly could not be - even if it was, it was too soon.  I’d just met her!  I supposed instead that it was simply a biological reaction, some process I wasn’t familiar with, some sort of adaption; her kind scenting so attractively to mine could only be beneficial.  Apparently, the sound of her cry alone drew me, and now that I was close enough to inhale this… I was learning I wasn’t immune to the - admittedly, what I’d naively thought to be overly hyped and extolled - charm of the gryfala.

My nostrils flared again and I hugged her tighter without even meaning to.

Walking swiftly, I arrived back at my room at the end of the barn, and when she saw that I was approaching the bed she commenced once again with the struggling.

I shook her a little.  Just jostling her enough to get her attention, not enough to hurt her.  “Cease.  We’re just going to rest until daybreak.”

I thought of setting her down, but tried to imagine if I were helpless and recently violated and unable to speak to the stranger who saved me - and how I would react to different scenarios.  I figured that me sitting on the mattress first was the least threatening option.  So I sat, keeping her restrained on my lap.  After a minute, she stopped shoving against my hold.  I tried purring again and this time, she seemed more receptive.  I tried to reign in the ridiculous flush of pride that I was improving my technique so quickly.  A few minutes more and she dropped her head onto my shoulder as if she were exhausted.  Her breath felt pleasant as it fanned across my neck.  I tried not to think too deeply on what that meant.  Obviously, she was too young to know any better.  But even from an entirely platonic, protective perspective I could see now why marking a hob with her exhales would be a great honor.  I shivered and hugged her tighter.

I grew alarmed when she began to lightly seize against me.  “Sweet one?” I said worriedly and peeled her back from my shoulder to stare in her face.  I saw it this time; her entire body would give a violent thrash, and then she’d gulp air wetly.

“What is happening?” I asked.

She seemed to understand because she answered something in her strange tongue that sounded like, “hickkupz”.

When I ran a hand down her chest she flinched, and when I held it to her middle where the seizing seemed to be emanating from, she actually gave me a watery smile.  “Hickkupz,” she repeated.

I raised my brows at her and withdrew my touch.  She didn’t seem worried so I tried not to be either.  The point they appeared to be originating from seemed too high up to indicate internal damage from that bastard rutting on her.  My hearts squeezed at the thought.  I didn’t think he’d managed to penetrate her, but I supposed one of those thrusts could have made contact.

I took her hips and gently eased her off of my lap and onto the mattress.  She held still, watching me warily.  I could now smell that mongrel’s seed where it had transferred to my suit.

And her blood.

Those bastards!  Fury swept through me making me hiss.  I angled my mouth down to point over the spot where the fucker’s fluids had transferred from her, and I burned it away.

At the burst of flame, she shrieked.

When I was done, I met her eyes and saw absolute shock there.  With every blink, I was becoming more convinced that somehow this Gryfala knew nothing of my people.  I peered at her clothing and could only assume then that her captive attire was not flameproof and made with one of us in mind.  Unfortunate.

I stood and crossed the room to my pack.  I found a bathing cloth, but as my hand touched it, I thought it might be too rough for her.  Great for buffing out dried blood from scales, but not fit for skin with the softness of flower petals.

I rummaged further and found something that would undoubtedly function.  But the significance of using it...  I looked over my shoulder to find her staring intently back at me.  Her eyes looked large and wounded, and I recognized in that moment that it didn’t matter.  I had to help her every way that I could.

I pulled out my ceremonial mating blanket.  Following tradition, my sister had toiled lovingly over each blanket she crafted for me and my brothers.  Just as a male should, I carried it with me always, but had yet to find a female to court with it.  I liked to think that mine was one of the finest I’d ever seen, with intricate patterns and vibrant colors, made to catch a female’s eye.  And the touch of it alone should be enough to make a female fall in love; so smooth.  Yet so far, I’d not been able to get close enough to a female with it for her to feel it, let alone let me wrap her in it.  Tugging it through a hand, I imagined it would be gentle on this Gryfala's sore flesh.  I growled sadly.  I had little hope of attracting a female without a proper courting blanket, but it couldn’t be helped.  I made my way back to her, and crouched to show her I was no threat when she began to gather her feet under her to - I presume - spring away.

She showed no recognition of the blanket’s proper purpose, cementing my theory that she had been kept entirely from knowledge of my kind.  Bringing the cloth across the back of my arm, I slowly opened my spines and heard her gasp.  I dragged an edge over it until the fabric was severed.

I took the precious square of cloth and placed it down, before carefully folding the remainder and setting it aside.  I reached to the side for the water canister and used it to wet an edge of the square, and held it out to her.

She just looked at me.

With her furred face ridges drawn together, she appeared pretty moon-ringed cute.  My lips tugged up a little.  It made my hearts lighter despite the resection of the blanket.

Carefully, I edged closer.  “Wash?”

She still didn’t move.

I stood and reached for her.

Her body jerked like she wanted to run, but her eyes stayed locked on mine.  I grasped her arms gently and pulled her to me.  When I lifted her skirt though, she began to struggle.

“I won’t hurt you.”  I promised firmly, looking into her eyes.

When she stopped, I raised the skirt higher, watching her face, urging her with my gaze to trust me.  When she was fully exposed however, she dropped her eyes from mine and looked away.  Her tears began again and my chest compressed at the sight of them.  Dammit!  I hated that she was not comforted.  But she needed care.  She had not been taught her customs - our customs.  I had to find a way to communicate with her.  Perhaps later, after my family was whole again, I would hunt down all who were responsible for her situation and bring her their heads.

When I dropped my stare to examine what I’d uncovered, I had to smooth out my expression so that she would not see the shock that surely crossed it.  I didn’t want her thinking something was wrong.  It was just that…

She was fully furred.

I flicked a quick look up at her face.  It was my understanding that this happened at full maturity.  She was older than I had guessed.  Much older.  I noticed light lines at her eyes and mouth.  Laugh lines.  Indicating that she was a happy Gryfala.

Well.  Normally.

Definitely not right now, I thought, the frustrated rage building in me as I bent to carry out this task.

I used the wetted cloth to wipe the mess from her thighs.  Her flanks.  Her back.  Apparently, the Krortuvian’s goal was thrust all over her if he couldn’t fit inside.  The green ooze was already drying to a crust in places but I was ever so careful as I rubbed at each one.  I placed one of her hands on my shoulder, then slowly I lifted her leg over my other shoulder.  She whimpered as I inspected her, although I tried to be gentle.  I sighed in relief when I saw that the green pus was not present here.  That was one hurt spared.  But I was horrified to see the bruises discoloring everything from her belly, to her hip, to her legs and knees.  And I smelled them at her female place.  They may not have been able to rut in her, but they had touched her here.

I darted another glance up, and now she was watching me with trepidation.  As pistol-shy as she was, I bet this wouldn’t set her mind at ease – but it might help her body.

I leaned in and licked at a bruise on her thigh.  Her skin responded by flinching, and she gasped, her heel digging into my back to angle herself away from my tongue - but she didn’t fight me.  I watched carefully, and felt relief when the bruise faded.  I moved to another one.  And up to another.  When I reached her mating place intent on removing even their scent traces from her skin let alone any soreness from their touches, she blocked me suddenly by shoving her hand in front of my nose and dropping her leg down.  I smelled blood again, and when my eyes focused, I saw the scrapes on her palm.  I dragged my tongue across her skin, lavishing extra attention on her fingertips for reasons I couldn’t explain.  It felt… good.  Right.

“Ah!  Stopthot!” she made sharp noises meant to chastise me, I think.  My tail snapped impatiently.  Princesses.  So bossy.

But when she brought her hand up to examine it, she froze.  “Itzheelt!”

Shocked eyes met mine.

I held a hand out to her, motioning for her other palm.  Slowly, as if I were offering to bite instead of lick, she gave it to me.

I lapped at it more slowly, more carefully, getting a good coating of saliva to help the healing along.

Then I released her and she examined it too.

“Woww.”

Both of her hands now out of the way, I bumped my nose against the juncture of her thighs and she squeaked and grasped my horns.  “No!”

I remembered her using that word with the other males.  I did not want her to think of them.  I did not want to her use that word on me.  But more, I didn’t want to touch her there and trigger her fear.  I carefully shook her hold loose and sat back on my heels and looked at her.  She lowered to grab the square of cut blanket.  She looked at me pointedly, looked at the cloth, then she spat.

She offered it to me.  “Speetoneet.”

Ah.  Yes of course that would make sense.  It wasn’t like I enjoyed having the bastards’ taste in my mouth - though I had been willing, for her sake.  Yet Rakhii attended to their Gryfala using their tongues.  It was an honor.

One I hadn’t earned, one that didn’t belong to me, obviously.  It shouldn’t, yet all the same, it stung a little.

But I wouldn’t traumatize her further by forcing my help.  So I spat.

She took the cloth and widened her stance a bit before pausing.  I looked up from her legs to her face to see why she stalled.  Her cheeks flushed oddly with bright color.  I watched her a moment longer, then looked back down to her legs.  And waited.

And waited.

She sighed.  A bracing sound.  “Ohhhkaaaay.”  Then she opened her legs wider and ran the cloth over her abused flesh.  Then she folded the square in half to find a clean area, and she dipped it inside her… self.  Were my horns growing warm?  She made a soft sound of distress and I looked up to see her grimacing.

Of course.  Of course, whatever they’d managed to do, it hurt her to touch and I growled, fervently wished I could go back and kill them all again.

Slowly.

I didn’t want to imagine the damage they would have done, what ways they would have devised to get themselves off if they couldn’t fit their hemipenes inside.  I was enraged that they’d purchased such a delicate creature with plans to abuse her - and so roughly - even though I also knew that this practice was normal for auction items.

Many individuals did go to auctions just to buy work slaves, slaves they’d treat fairly well.  Yes, some sought mates, and some bought whores.  But, for the money, you’d think they’d treat the females better in order to get more mileage out of their purchase.  At the very least, wouldn't it be wiser to bid on size-appropriate  - make that species appropriate - matches?

But a princess.  They would have been rabid to have one.  What an item for the auction.  It had never been done.  Never.  Her winning bid would have been a literal fortune.  Still, the Krortuvians must have been mad.  If her clan found out, they’d torture, quarter, and desecrate them – then they’d visit the Krortuvian homeland and burn it to the ground.  If my mission ended successfully, I would offer to join all the bachelor hobs in razing the entirety of the Krortuvians.

If I wasn’t successful in my quest… then may the Creator grant me to defend the honor of this female - even if I had not been able to do so for my own.

2

ANGIE

The magic saliva tingled and heated and I didn’t try to slow my tears of relief at how that felt to my raw insides where those things had shoved their spiderlegs… I couldn’t… my stomach clenched and it was a moment before I could speak.  “Thank you,” I said to the alien.  I hastily pushed down my skirt.  Goosebumps exploded across my body and I began to shiver slightly.

His heavy brows drew together and I thought I read concern in his features.

He suddenly gripped my arm and I tried not to startle.  Failed.

His lips pressed together, and then he dropped his gaze to examine my skin, running his fingers over the bumps.  Slowly, I reached past him and shook out the blanket he’d folded.  He dropped my arm …and just stared.  Wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I said quietly; “This is really nice.”  I ran my fingers over it.  “I’ve never felt anything like this.  And it’s so warm.”

He was watching me oddly.  Like, really oddly.

“What?”

After a moment, he shook himself, and picked up the grey metal looking bottle he’d used to dampen the blanket rag.  He handed the bottle to me, so I politely accepted it.  He watched me expectantly, then mimed guzzling it back.  Oh.  I’d wondered if it was just water, but it could just as easily have been liquid soap solution for all I knew.  I hesitantly sniffed it.  Smelled like …well, nothing, so I hoped that meant it was water.  I put it to my lips and took a sip.  Then another.  Man, I was thirsty.  It was a moment before I experienced a rush of guilt; I’d nearly drained it!  I wiped my mouth, swished the container to find it just as low as I’d feared, and offered the last of it to him with a grateful – and sheepish - smile.  He shook his head and motioned for me to finish.  When I did, he reached down and felt around, then pulled out another one.  He set it by my foot.  I made an ‘I’m good’ gesture with my palm.  “Thanks though.”

He nodded.  Then he looked up, way up, on the wall.  I noticed a cut-away in the stonework.  A crude sort of window.  I could see stars.

Not my stars.  Some other solar system’s.

I breathed deep and tried to calm my suddenly shaking hands.  This day had all gone on too long, had all been too much, felt way too real, to be a bad, bad dream.  Somehow, this was actually happening.  I’d been kidnapped by aliens, sold by aliens, almost raped by aliens, and saved by another.

I darted a look at him, as he still watched the stars.  In profile, his roman nose was even more pronounced.  It rose proudly from his face, and rolled from a heavy brow, and although he had sweeping, slightly twisty horns, he overall had some elements of a tough looking ram.  But that’s where the similarities stopped.  There were his scales for one thing.  I’d seen an Australian opal once.  It appeared sort of white at a glance, but when it caught the light, it actually reflected every color of the spectrum.  His scales reminded me of that.  His torso and lower half seemed to be covered in plates that didn’t look like any material I’d recognize.  What did I know?  Maybe that was his skin.

My perusal ended abruptly when I noticed him watching me out of the corner of his eye.  I flushed and looked down, fiddling with the blanket.

A clawed fingertip pressing under my chin had me jerking my eyes up.  The blanket began to slide down but with a lightning-fast move, he caught it, and covered me back up.  He began to speak in his clicks and rumbling growl.

Nope, I didn’t understand a word of it.

He sighed.  Then he slowly shifted and began to rise.  I tensed, and he stopped.  He spoke again, and I realized I found his deep rumble pleasant.  And I guessed that his tone was meant to be soothing.  I tilted my head back as he straightened all the way.  The guy was massive.  And he’d carried me like I’d weighed nothing so I could add strong to the list based on that.  Oh.  And the way he’d pounded skulls together like people tap open eggs.

I closed my eyes and shuddered.  Yes, very strong.

Suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, and I jerked against his hold.  His brows drew down and his chin firmed.  Feeling oddly chagrined, I relaxed and leaned into his hands a little.

His lips peeled back and upward into what I was getting was supposed to be a smile.

Then he brought a knee on the bed.  I was ready to drop the blanket and run, but he’d frozen, his eyes locked on mine.  I took a moment to think.

What I knew: he’d rescued me, defended me, cleaned me up.  There was just the one lumpy mattress here and a whole lot of hard stone floor.  If he wanted to rape me too, he could have done that by now, and many times over.  I was not strong enough to stop him.  If I managed to somehow get past him and escape, where would I go?  Would I run into members of the frenzied crowd that had been having a bidding battle over human women as if we were cattle?  More like sex slaves.  Well, maybe still the cattle comparison after all.  Who knew?  Maybe we were a delicacy.  It wasn’t like they were buying women of their own species.  Maybe all these alien men were getting a 2-for-1 deal with every purchase.  A fuck and a meal, mmm.  How lovely.

I took a deep breath, and noted that this alien was still holding still.  Patient.  After the events transpiring over the last few hours, this little kindness made my eyes fill up.  I held them open wide so no more tears escaped.  Then I met his gaze and nodded once.

He slowly brought his other knee up.  He shifted around until his back was to the wall.  He reached a hand out towards me – but seemed to think better of it.  He let his arm drop.  Then he eased down on his side, leaving an arm out in what appeared to be a universal – unisolar-planetary-galaxy?- invite for me to rest my head on his bicep.

I took another really deep breath.  And then I dropped to my side, and - facing away from him - I took him up on his offer and used him for a pillow.

When his other arm came around my middle, I didn’t jump.  A few minutes later, he carefully tightened his grip, and, ever-so-slowly, eased me backwards into his warmth.  This gentleness did me in and I did start to cry.

He sniffed my hair.

And he jerked back, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I smelled bad.

I cried harder.

He raised up a little and peered down at me.  He rumbled something probably comforting.  Then he began to make that awful noise.  But since it didn’t seem to mean anything bad, I just shook my head and slowly wiped the tears off my face as they came.

I fell asleep to the vibrations of his chest at my back, and the feel of his knuckles gently running over my skin.

Sunlight was peeking through the square in the wall when I woke up.  The alien behind me said one word.

I yawned.  “Was that the equivalent of good morning?”

A palm was suddenly tapped against the cradle of my hips and I gasped and clutched his wrist.  “Hey!”

He tsked and clicked and rumbled.  My body was pushed forward a little when his chest expanded deeply against my back.  I nearly fell back when he expelled it in a sigh.  Then his hand was gone, and he smoothly rose over me to leave the bed.

Instantly, I was lonely without him.  A psychological clingy survivor-thing, clearly, getting all needy for a being I didn’t know.  Really though, it wasn’t like I had anyone else to rely on right now and I was less than defenseless by myself.  There were monsters here.

I sat up and faced him.

He muttered something, then went to a satchel by the wall.  His tail swayed, the tassel of spines on the end just grazing the floor.  He pulled out something wrapped in a brown substance.  He brought it to me.  Carefully, I unwrapped it.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed and he steadied it when it would have fallen off of my lap.  “S-sorry,” I said at his reproachful look.  “It’s just… you shouldn’t have.  You really, really shouldn’t have.”

It just goes to show that rats really have managed to infest everything and, apparently, everywhere.  Because here on my lap was a petrified (as in stiff and dead - not terrified) rat.  The biggest rat I’d ever seen, true - but really not all that different from rats on earth.  I bet that meant there were alien fleas and alien cockroaches here too.  An itch began in my scalp that was surely the product of my imagination and not due to alien fleas moments after I invented alien fleas.  I itched my head and felt something jump off my hand.

Fucking.  Fabulous.

Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out…

I looked up at him.  “What do you want me to do with this?”

His grunted something.  Then he nudged the carcass for further emphasis.  Yay, he really, really wanted me to do something.  I gave him the impatient look right back.

His next words sounded exasperated.  Then he reached out a thumb, careful to keep the talon pointed way back, and lifted my lip to examine my teeth.  This seemed to settle something.  He took the rat back, covered it up again, then brought his satchel over to rest at my feet.  He shoved the covered rat back in, then pulled out a small speckled brick.  He handed it to me.  I sniffed it. It smelled like… nothing I’d ever smelled before.  But yeah, I had the feeling he wanted me to eat.  So I gave a corner a lick, and watched him nod in encouragement.  Carefully, I tried to bite down on it, but got nowhere.

It was a brick after all.  Of what, I had no idea.  But if I had my choice, I’d pick it over the rat.  For all I knew, the brick was rat, all ground up and packed with sawdust or something, just like hotdogs.  (Just kidding.  They don’t use sawdust in hotdog factories anymore.  Rats though?  Who knows what falls in the processing vats.  I’m sure that before it all got pushed through a giant extruder, someone scooped out what they could.  Probably.)

At least hotdogs tasted delicious.

He picked the brick up and bit off a chunk with frightful ease.  He chewed, his beautifully defined jaw muscles working and making me aware that by human standards - and by that, I mean if he were human - he’d be rather attractive.  I pursed my lips and tilted my head to study him.  Not bad, not really.

Then he spit the chewed portion into his hand.  And held it to my mouth.

Attractiveness: Level NEGATIVE.  I pulled way back.  “Ugh, regurgitated rat brick.  I think I’ll---“  What?  Pass?  I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and something told me I wasn’t going to find a set of golden arches and even if I did, it wasn’t like I had money to trade for food.  And so far, this alien hadn’t asked me for anything.  He was trying to help me here.  Gross, but nice.  Best offer I’d had since arriving, actually.  And I was fucking starving.  Starting to feel just the tiniest bit grumpy now too, probably due to the lack of food.  And I was pretty fucking sure I wasn’t fucking dreaming because nightmares fucking end and this one had gone on way, way, way too long.

I groaned and let my head roll forward - but to the other side so I wouldn’t smear my face into that spit-up stuff in his palm.

He began to pull his hand back, but I stalled him by placing my thumb and forefinger against his wrist.  I made a face as I leaned forward and… ate his chewed up rat brick right out of his fingers.

It tasted like cranberries.

Tangy and a little bitter, I pulled my lips to the side a little, considering.

“You know?  Not awful.”  I looked at him.

He smiled in relief I think, and he chewed another piece for me.  We repeated this until I stopped him from taking another bite for me and said, “Okay, thanks a bunch.  I’m all full.”  I wasn’t, but I wanted him to be able to eat too.  And wouldn’t you know it?  I had no urge to overeat if the food was covered with somebody else’s saliva.  I was learning all sorts of new things about myself.  Lucky me.  He finished the rest of the brick off in two huge crunches.  Because his teeth – HUGE.

Shiiiiiiit.

My eyebrows were probably sitting above my hairline right now.  He pushed the water bottle into my hands and I drank some gratefully, then handed it back and he emptied it.

And that’s when I realized I had a problem.  I had to pee.  And I had no idea how to convey this.  If I motioned to my crotch he might think I was referring to yesterday’s attack.  Or offering something.  Had to be careful when you didn’t know alien customs and all.  I stood and shifted my weight from foot to foot, to alleviate the urge - and to think.

He eyed me, then bent - and I thought he was going to reach for my pelvis again - ohhh - but instead, he bent even lower to reach under the bed, and pulled out what looked to like a bucket.  I wondered, but I made no move.  So he did.  With apparently no self-consciousness whatsoever, he peeled back a panel I hadn’t noticed at his groin (so it was a suit he was wearing!), and that bulge between his legs suddenly made sense.  I averted quickly and had to cover my mouth to stop from gaping.  I guess a guy his size was bound to be hung but holy motherships batman!

A grunt from him that sounded suspiciously amused had me slowly turning back.  He gestured to the bucket.  I sent him a spinning motion with my finger, and he frowned, cocking his head.  Slowly, I reached up and gave a hesitant push on his shoulder and eventually he let me turn his body, but his head followed me.

I, hesitating only slightly now, reached way, way up – and couldn’t reach his face.

I scrabbled at his shoulder but found nothing to grip onto.  He bent a little, enough that I could poke a finger into his cheek and turn his head.

The sound he made could have been a bark or a laugh.  But the important thing was that he stayed averted, and I did my business.

“All done,” I said, and I used my foot to carefully scoot the bucket towards the bed, but he stopped me with two grumbles.  I imagined they meant, “Leave it,” or “Maid gets that,” or “this hostel sucks and I don’t care if the owners have to clean up four bodies and our piss bucket, they deserve it because there’s no continental breakfast.”

“Alrighty, then.  What now?”

He bent to grab up his satchel.  He retrieved the empty water bottles, shoved them inside his bag, and when he came upon the soiled rag from last night he tossed it in the middle of the room.  Then he bent over it and blew fire from his mouth – until some of the fibers slowly lost their color, curled, and turned into ash.  Some of it turned shiny, looked hot, and got brighter.  Weirdness.  But, then again, what wasn’t here?

He approached me, and gently took the blanket from my shoulders.  I started to step away to give him room to fold it back up, but he stilled me by holding up a hand.  Then he shook out the blanket, twirled it up and around my shoulders and began to fit it around me so that it resembled a... dress.  As a final addition, he took what I’d thought to be decorative trim, and pulled it free and stretched it.  He wrapped this around my neck and across my chest, kind of making an ‘x’ shape between my breasts.  This wrapped around to the back and held it all in place and gave it shape I guess.  Without a mirror, from what I could tell, this really was now a dress.

“Nifty trick,” I commented.  Then I bent my knees and reached my hands up under the blanket to shimmy-peel my filthied skirt down.  I threw it on top of the ashes and asked him, “Can you burn that too?”  I mimed a “poof” motion with my hands against my mouth.

He nodded solemnly.  Then he did so.  It was freaking impressive to see.

“Thank you.” I said quietly.  I sniffed and wondered why the fuck I felt like crying again.  His arms were suddenly around me, and giving me a squeeze.  I pulled away, but I was steadier all the same.  I patted his arm.  “Thanks.”  He took my hand, leading me to the door.

There, he tilted his great horned head back, and scented the air.

Satisfied, he opened it and led me down a hall.

In minutes, we were outside and among a row of sale pens.  I couldn’t say for sure, but I thought some of these had been empty when I was dragged through last night.  But now, many pens were stuffed full.  Some creatures were pressed like sardines, smashed against each other with nowhere to move.

Distracting me from my horrified staring, the alien bent down a little so he was closer to my eye level.  He said something to me.  When I only looked at him blankly, he pointed to the line of cages.

My stomach dropped so low I think it landed on my feet.

“No way!  I am not going back!”  What?  Did he have plans return me?  Resell me?

“You—!“

His had ahold of my shoulders before I could bolt.  He shook me a little.  Growled a lot.  Then he seemed to think better of this and sighed as he ran his knuckles over my cheek.  And tugged me in for a hug against his hard chest.

Hmm.  Officially, I was confused.  Was he saying goodbye?  Apologizing that he couldn’t keep me?

He tugged the ends of my hair - the snarled part hanging past my shoulders - in order to tip my face up to his.  He made more noise, and firmly clasped my hand in his.  Brought it to his heart – or at least where a heart would go on a human – and growled.

I shook my head.  “You know I don’t understand.”  His lips firmed and he looked off in the distance.  Disappointment was clear on any planet apparently.  Not knowing what he wanted, I attempted to do something I needed to do.  I tightened our hand grip and started down the cage row heading to the big stadium pen to see if any of my group’s members were left.

When I’d woken up yesterday afternoon, I’d found myself in a pen with other women -only women, not one dude among us.  But there was a seeing eye dog.  That poor dog.  And his girl.  I didn’t know what was worse: seeing her trying to control her panic while attempting to comfort her freaked out partner, or watching the emotions play across her face as she struggled to believe the insane situation a bunch of strangers were describing to her.

Yesterday, the aliens lining up outside of the pen were worked up in quite a frenzy.  All kinds of aliens.  And the immediate consensus among the ladies was that we were indeed facing alien life forms.  Not that it was plausible, but in the face of – well, them – it was hard to come up with alternative explanations.  Aliens.  Aliens.  Big shaggy ones, ones covered in feathers, some had slime coats and a couple looked like things you’d reel up from the sea… if you were fishing out in the ocean while tripping on LSD.  The pen was roughly hexagonal in construction, and the substance under our feet looked pretty much like dirt.  The walls of our prison were made of odd bits of metal, strange planks and was cobbled together with such a mishmash of materials it looked like it’d been cannibalized from a dozen crash-landed spaceships.  Who the hell knew?  It could have been.

But despite the oddness of it all, the shape and presentation was distressingly similar to a livestock pen.  Like the kind at the fair, where the great animals go up for bid at the end.  Where I came from, there were two types that came to auctions.  People looking to buy animals for food, and people looking to buy animals to ride.

I bit my lips as I looked at some of the very large aliens that surrounded us.

As some of them locked eyes with us and touched their crotch regions suggestively, making horrifyingly unmistakable gestures, something in me was very concerned that they had a different type of ride in mind entirely.

We stayed huddled together, and we quickly compared notes.  Just about all of us had been frozen by a ray of really bright light, and then poof!  We woke up here.  Some of us unlucky bitches had gone to bed the night before, never saw a light, and just woke up here, not a coffee in sight and sharing the really not-so-good feeling about what was about to happen to us.

Knowing what had gone down to me a few minutes later, I worried about the other women’s fates.  And frankly, I didn’t even want to think about what had happened to that dog.

In full daylight, even without the bright spotlights glaring down, the auction pen still managed to look terrifying.  Maybe more so because a few scant hours ago, I’d been the object of a heated bidding war where bunches of creatures began banding together to exceed the alien equivalent of high-roller bids.  That’s how I’d ended up with four motherfuckers.  I’d seen them, pointing to me and pooling their weird money together.  I’d already witnessed a few girls before me get carried off, and with each woman that was dragged from the dwindling group, the crowd only got crazier.

I was shaken out of reliving my ordeal by an unearthly squeal.  Barreling towards me was a fluffy creature with six arms - and it was waving them and pointing.  To me.

Suddenly my alien was snarling.  It was so loud and so frightening that I jumped.  He clamped down on my hand and tugged me into his side.  He growled words at the fuzzy creep.

But the fuzzy one touched my arm.

And that quick - my alien had him in a headlock and snap!  Neck broken; he dropped the six-armed furry freak.

“You’re a badass!” I shouted, a shot of adrenaline hitting my system and making me weirdly giddy as I wrapped my arms around his hips.  But it wasn’t a hug.  A hug implies that the hugger eventually releases their grip on the huggee, and that wasn’t happening.  I wasn’t going to risk getting pulled away from my alien hero.

Breathing heavily, my alien threw me what I imagined was his version of an amused glance.  I smiled tightly at him and we moved forward.

We reached the big pen and I pointed and said, “I was there last night.  With a lot of others like me.”

He studied me then glared into the pen as he inhaled.  Then he stared at me, shocked.  He began to rumble low, dangerous sounds.  He turned us then, and scanned the cages.  He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for.  He started walking.  He modified his steps so that I could keep up – yes, still awkwardly hugging his hips as if he was my lifeline.  So far, he was.

Then we rounded the hexagon (that… just… sounds weird but you know what I mean) and on the other side – to my absolute horror – there were more pens.  Rows and rows of imprisoned aliens.  He made a sound and I looked up to see he appeared as distressed as I felt.  Then he began to go down the first aisle way, checking both sides to view the occupants.  Up and down we walked and I was sickened to see cages full of creatures.  Talking, crying, pleading.  These weren’t cages full of carnivorous feeder pigs that seemed to have no idea what waited for them.  These were terrified sentient beings, clinging to loved ones, and it didn’t look like their presence here was any more voluntary than mine and the girls’ had been.

Another onlooker viewing auction contents caught my alien’s attention.  He hailed this other smaller-and-not-as-nice-guy-looking being.  When the other guy leered at me, I squeezed my arms tighter around my alien’s hips, and he responded by cupping the back of my head and pressing it into his side protectively.

3

AROKH

I reassured her as best as I could without words since they were virtually pointless.  Extending the fingers of my other hand to Arvalt, I tapped fingertips to his in greeting.

“You looking for the Rakhii whelp?”

My hearts began pounding.  I think the Gryfala noticed because she looked up at me sharply.  “Where?”

Arvalt smirked.  “You have a chance at finding her before she is sold.”  He drew out his pause, never taking his eyes from mine.  “But we both know it’s an absurdly small chance.  Or… I could collect myself a promise that seating will be full the next time I schedule a pit match.”

I swallowed.  Arvalt was a duplicitous, heartless, inveigler - but his gladiator games were perhaps the most successful of all.

They were certainly the most brutal.

The victor that walked out became famous, guaranteed to pull in a sold out crowd wherever they fought next.  When I had been the last gladiator standing at his stadium, I promised myself I’d never step into that pit again.  I wasn’t sure I could fight my way out twice.  Stiffly I uttered, “Lead the way, and I’ll owe you a fight.”

His grin shriveled my insides.

But we fell into step behind him.

It was worth it to promise, because I don’t think that I would have found her on my own.  There were so many smells, so many bodies, so many voices, the odds of me picking her out were infinitesimal.  No matter how conflicted I felt about owing anything to Arvalt, I clapped him solidly on his bubbling shoulder and knew that no matter what he had collected in repayment, it was worth it.

I got to her in time.

She had spotted me too, and was squeezing her way to the side of the pen, crying and calling out to me.  My haste was so great that I had to stop myself from dragging the Gryfala behind me.  Instead, I startled her by grabbing her up and carrying her as I raced.

Raced towards the girl that was the jewel of my family, the one my brothers and I had been so desperately searching for.

4

ANGIE

I didn’t know what heck was happening, but one minute my alien was running hell bent for leather towards a group of incredibly unlucky soon-to-be auction victims, and the next minute I was squished between his hard body and an alien that he’d just ripped out of a pen.

He just – he just yanked it right off the ground and over the side of the pen like it was no big deal.  Hot damn, we could have used his help last night!  I squirmed between them, wriggling until I broke free and dropped to the ground.  I wobbled back a step then could only watch their embrace in stunned silence.

The other alien looked a lot like… him.  And… it looked like a ‘her’.  It, she, whatever, was sobbing, and his hands were rubbing reverently along long spike strands coming out from under her horn buds.  He dragged her back when the other aliens that were still stuck in the pen made a desperate attempt to escape with her.

Okay, so he saved me last night but he had no intention of helping anyone else…

Except for this female.

I crossed my arms and tried to identify the emotions struggling inside of me.

The irrational, irrational emotions.  Like… Jealousy?  After a handful of hours?  What?

Why?  Just because this stranger had been nice to me?

Psychological reasons.  Clearly.

There was also a definite feeling of fear, with the intensity level of nuclear.  Because what would happen to me now that my alien had what he had apparently been looking for all along?

I gave myself a mental kick.  My alien?  I was possessive of a guy I couldn’t even talk to.

That’s when he whipped out a cell phone.

I gasped.  I wanted to point to it and shout, ‘Hey! I know what that is!’ – but I didn’t, because if I had to guess, an interplanetary calling code probably wasn’t a thing, so no SOS signal from the alien cell phone begging earth to drop everything and figure out how to get little old me (and a bunch of others that were who-knows-where having who-knows-what being done to them) back home.  Crap.

He seemed to bark tersely, maybe even a little triumphantly into the phone.  When he was done, he did something so odd that my jaw dropped.

He captured her head in the crook of his elbow, and then he brought the underside of his other forearm to the top of her head and… she thrashed and trash talked him in alien I’m pretty sure.  This had to be an alien noogie.  It totally had to be.  “Huh...” I said to no one.

She whacked at him with her tail.  When he released her, he threw back his head and made a loud coughing set of victory ...clicks.

Aliens.

She struck him one more time - affectionately- and shoved back from him.  Then she turned to me, sort of folding over like she was... bowing?  But that was crazy.  Maybe she was hurt.  Poor thing.  She gave me a smile that looked sort of shy, until she noticed what I was wearing.

She began barking and jumping up and down and then she reached out and ran her hand along my blanket-dress.  I had already sidled half-away when my alien caught her in a headlock and apparently told her to cut it out, because she dropped her hand from the gorgeous fabric, looking disappointed.

I felt a little better seeing that their interaction, while pretty tender, appeared platonic.  And then I wanted to shake myself.  What is the matter with you?  Why should I care?  Then I took a breath, gave myself a break - and an internal peptalk.  Yes, my feelings were a messy cocktail of irrational but let me trot out my excuses/traumas of late.  I made a promise to myself that as soon as I made it back home to Earth in one piece I’d take a moment and psychoanalyze all of this.

Because apparently, now would not be the time.  Because apparently, hugging with the auctionees was not encouraged.  A burly yellow creature approached, its features so roach-like that the hairs at the back of my neck might never relax again.

Kuh-reepy.  He had a whip coiled in one of his appendages.  Our guy made a hard gesture and did some explaining, but yellow guy was not interested in hearing what he had to say.  My alien’s tail was snapping furiously and the other guy should have noticed that was some kind of bad sign.  He made an ugly face, shouted - that’s when my alien lunged, grasping the thing by its… thorax?  More auction workers converged on us, and that creepy alien that had led us to the girl he rescued?  That guy apparently saw this as an opportunity to make the big bucks - it looked like he was collecting wagers on the outcome of this skirmish.  Some friend!

Another guy with a whip - I was going to go out on a limb here and surmise that one wicked long whip was standard issue for all evil auction employees - this guy ran up with a space gun and aimed for-

For my alien!

No!

The girl smacked the barrel just as a blast shot out of it.

The blast took out the idiots standing just on the periphery; the ones embroiled in the dumbest gambling known to… alien, I guess.

My alien clapped and bellowed… happily?

No love lost between him and the creepy helper it seemed.

I was so caught up in the spectacle, that I never saw them coming.  I was yanked right off of my feet.  These aliens were so freaking strong.  I screeched and kicked and bit and fought as hard as I could, the deja-vu so intense my stomach was threatening to bring up my rat brick.  “Nooo!  No, let me go!”

My alien dropped the yellow dude and spun, and in one punch he’d downed my main attacker.  His tail took out the others.  That’s right.  His tail could slice bodies in two.  My alien pulled me to his chest and I think he was repeating, “SO FUCKING SORRY!” or maybe “You’re okay now, just please don’t start crying again,” - who knew – but I was grateful and clamped to him like a barnacle.  Quickly, he turned back to the girl he’d been trying to free.  But it was too late.  The yellow guy had shoved her into a chute packed with other aliens and was trying to direct her down into the ring.  He uncoiled his whip, shaking it out.

Uh oh.

But my guy snatched it, roaring as he did and threw a loop around the roach head, pulling it tight.  I let his side go and gave him space to choke the thing unconscious… or dead.  I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.  I just wanted out of here and off this planet and on the next ship to Earth, please.

My guy grabbed my arm and brought me to his side, steadying me there like a moment, a clear stay close.

“Yeah.  Got that.  Right with you.”

And then he grasped the girl under her arms and pulled her right over the fence again.  The other auctionees were going wild, some trying to climb her body to come along.  But they didn’t make it.

An alarm blared, and a pole high above us lit up and turned red.

We didn’t wait around.

I’ve never run so hard in my life.  Previously - you know, before being abducted by aliens and all – I wasn’t into jogging.  I did a little Pilates.  But I also ate a lot of ice cream.  If I ever got back home, I was giving up the frozen cartons of delight and taking up a real exercise regimen.

Scratch that.  When I got home, I was going to freak the fuck out, binge on ice cream as a therapy tool, and then take up exercise for real.  And sign up for self defense classes.  Begin carrying cattle prods with enough voltage to take down a T-rex.

Early on in our race, my guy was almost taken down by a pair of really mean looking dudes.  The rescued girl latched onto me and shouted encouragement for him.  Heck yes, I did too.  And what a show!  Our guy?  Kick.  Ass.  He continued to use that tail as a weapon.  Back home, I’d been whacked by a cow’s tail and a cow’s tail can really hurt.  So it’s totally worth repeating: my alien could split alien flesh right from bone without even having to get his hands dirty.  Ugh.  Serious nasty.  Very much glad he was on my side.  And those horns he had?  Not just for show.  He used them to stab, knock, and head-butt.  Between them, and powerful kicks and punches, he dropped these otherworld critters like flies.

He was like a ninja + samurai pitted against regular people.  When he’d freed himself, we started to cheer for him, but he cut us off with a hand motion and hurried us on.  I guess we’d attracted enough attention already.

We dodged official looking aliens.  We hid behind gypsy looking wagons, crowds of creatures, and ran like the blazes when no one was looking.  When he thought it was safe, he whipped out his cell phone again.  Then we tried to stay in one place.  Every time we had to change hiding spots, he sent a brief message on his phone.

I took that to mean that the cavalry was coming.

The cavalry came in the form of just one ram-dragon-thing.  He could have been my guy’s twin.  But bluer.  The girl beside me squealed and threw herself on him and he performed a noogie on her head spikes too.  Then he clasped my alien on the shoulder, pulling him in for a bro-hug.  I backed up a little to give them space, and looked around me nervously.  I didn’t want to get snatched and resold – or just plain stolen.  Again.  No need for a repeat, no thanks.

My guy broke away and whirled around to grab my hand.  He said something to me, his eyes bright with his happy emotions. Then he turned to the others, motioning to me.

And the other guy’s shock was something to see.  Insta-silence.

That was, before he folded over much like the girl had; making his horns almost touch the ground.

Then they exploded in discussion.  Lots of gestures.

The other alien male stepped closer, as if to examine me.  A low, threatening growl stopped him cold.  This look-alike laughed and backed away.

Sure, it was possible that my alien was simply guarding his new possession or something, but I still got an odd, reassuring thrill that he was so protective of me, even with his friend.

I pitched forward when someone bumped into me, to which my alien reacted by clasping me to him with one hand while backhanding the offender with the other.

I’d have felt bad about that, but the thing that ran into me had way, way too many teeth and almost as many eyes and all of those eyes were roaming over my features.

At least until my alien snarled.

His hand was suddenly stroking my cheek.  I looked at him, and he smiled, said something, and pulled me to him.  Then he began to converse with the group, and all the while he stroked me gently.

No, I decided.  I didn’t think I was a possession.  He’d rescued me.  Multiple times now.  He treated me like he cared.  He had been so careful with me last night.  And today, all day, even as we ran all over this crazy place… Ugh, what a day.  I dropped my head into my hands.  This was all so much.  Too much.  I was exhausted.

Then my stomach pitched as gravity shifted in that way it does when someone hauls you up into their arms without warning.  I yelped.

My alien raised me to his face.  Said some things.  Then he adjusted me so that I was cradled against his chest.  I pressed a hand to his chestplate.  He looked down at me in worry.  “I’m okay.  Just tired.  A lot’s happened, you know?” I smiled weakly.

He frowned.  He turned to the others and rapidly I guess they made plans.  Alarmingly, there was also some pointing at my ears.  Why?  They knew I could hear them.  When the other male approached again, my nails pressed into my rescuer’s forearm scales a little.  He patted my fingers and shook his head at Twin.  I reached up and stroked his cheek this time.

Dimly, I registered the female making a gasping squeal that sounded positively delighted.

He stared at me.  But not in a bad way.  In a way that, I thought, meant he liked that I was using his own comforting gestures back on him.  I hoped so anyway.  I appreciated his sensitivity to what probably appeared to be my skittish nature.  Mine wasn’t.  Skittish, that is.  At least not until I was dropped onto an alien planet and yadda yadda, you get the idea.

Then the female came up.  She clasped my guy’s bicep and smiled happily at him, purple tears trailing down her cheeks.  I tried hard not to stare.  Then she focused on me and gave me a reassuring pat.  I think my guy started sharing the details of my ordeal because she fiddled with the hem of my blanket and gave me a sympathetic head tilt.

My guy clasped her in a side-hug, Twin came up to sandwich her between us, and they began walking in that formation.  We traveled awhile, still dodging and hiding when needed.  But the further away we got, the more relaxed the guys became.  I patted my alien’s chest, and when he gave me his attention, I gestured that I could walk, waggling two of my fingers in a stepping motion for emphasis.  His lip twitched up on one side, but he shook his head.

Okay then.

I settled back for the ride.  I hadn’t been carried around like this since I was a toddler.  This seemed extravagant.  Like the quintessential royal with the grapes and the palm frond fans and the hot guys proudly bearing her weight on some tented throne thing.

Being held directly against a hot, hard chest though?

Mine was better.

Mine was soo much better.

A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.

Finally, we came to a section of burnt field.  A field full of parked spaceships.

At this point, I imagined that I should be growing desensitized to anything alien related, but still… spaceships.  So many spaceships.

We threaded around them; big shiny ships, ships with matte finishes, ships encrusted with jewel like facets and colors – and, weirdly, my alien covered my eyes when we passed those - not alarming in the least - and massive black freaky disc shaped ships with lots of portholes.

We’d gone pretty far when the other big dude began to look maybe a little… guilty.  Sheepish even.  His eyes flicked to me, then to my alien.  He started talking fast.

My alien stopped dead.  He leveled a look at Twin and spit out one word.

Twin ducked his head and grimaced.

Definitely guilty.

He waved an apologetic hand, indicating one of the ships.

I didn’t get it.  The ship looked pretty to me.  Anything headed to earth: sign me right up!

Then my alien stalked forward, and tucked behind - and sort of half-under the impressive shiny one - was a tiny, dented, oblong space pod.

Apparently, this adorable tic-tac was our ride.

Unfortunately.

My guy made a disgusted noise.  He set me down so that he could add incredulous gestures to his heated words with Twin.  Twin rubbed the back of his neck roughly, appearing extremely apologetic, but his explanations all looked like excuses to me.  Then he threw me a worried look.  The girl did too.

Oh shit.

I was internally about to freak out that I was about to be left behind, but before I could work up a good case of mental screams, my alien – without even sparing me a glance – snagged me and pulled me to him tightly as he continued discussing this problem.

They came to some sort of a decision.  I was calmer, because my alien never let me go during this.  He hugged the girl, tapped fingers with Twin, and we watched the two of them squeeze into the pod.  It looked like a third being might be able to fit in if no one was averse to snuggling.  And that’s when my alien looked down at me.

I looked back at the space available, located on the other side of the gutted, rusty, gear panel – I’d be squeezed between the pod door and Twin.

Grabbing my alien’s hand tightly, I tried to gesture along with my words.  “Ride in that?  And leave you behind?  For the bad guys to grab?” I wiggled my fingers like a spider.  “And go with these two… where?  I can’t even converse with them, and ...uh, what happens when we have to go the bathroom?” I made an “Ugh, that sucks” face as I stared at the pod, making the girl giggle.

If you can make an alien laugh?  I won’t lie.  That felt good.  I smiled my thanks for her appreciation of my comedic talent.  Then I turned back to my alien.  “I don’t want to leave you behind!”  Did this mean he would go in my place then, and leave me?  Should he?  It wasn’t fair that he be stuck here and split up from what I was pretty sure was his family.

Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t-

He rumbled words at me, then rubbed the material of my dress between his fingers before tapping his chest.

Okay.  He wanted the blanket back?  I pointed to the underside and said, “I had you burn my skirt!” I must have looked just as horrified as I felt, because he rushed to comfort me, and eventually gave up and just enfolded me in his arms.

Alright, I was confused.  Again.  No, make that still.

And then in a move that reminded me of that thing all men seem to do back home, he reached beyond me to knock twice against the top of the pod in goodbye.  He said things that made the girl tear up, (I didn’t even try to hide my staring) and he waved to Twin.  They closed the hatch – it took two tries, I noted uneasily as it whined and groaned – and then my guy walked us backwards so they could take off.  Thankfully, it seemed to fly fine.  They accelerated and were out of sight in the time it took to blink.

We watched the sky for a minute more, then my hand was tugged and I followed as he led me back to the market.

5

AROKH

Panic seized my hearts when someone soon pointed to the Gryfala, and a group began to pursue us.  I dodged and weaved through the crowd, at times lifting her right off of her feet in order to keep her with me.  When one managed to catch up with us, I grabbed him around the neck and jerked him behind a table of ladies’ decorative headdresses.  He was a Torkbal, his neck too thick to break.  But his air was easy enough to cut off.  I kept him locked until he passed out, then I held him down until his pulse stopped entirely.  The shopkeeper watched warily but didn’t intervene.  When I caught her eye, she nodded at me and gave me a Rakhii salute.  Thank the Creator for the honorable reputation of my people.  Whatever action we took, if there was a Gryfala’s safety involved, it was almost always looked upon as pardonable.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” I said to her in a friendly, conversational tone, as if I didn’t have a dead man locked under my arm.

She winked as she made a noncommittal sound.  “I believe it just got nicer now.  All the peddler wagons in this sector have been warned about the dangerous citizen who stole an auction female and is fleeing authorities.”  Her eyes cut to my companion, who watched our byplay anxiously.  “It might be more difficult to recognize even a great Rakhii if the citizen and his female found less conspicuous garb.”  Wise woman.

She inclined her head to her wagon.  “Your lady should be able to find something serviceable in the chest near the door.”

I nodded my gratitude, released the man’s neck, and used a wrist spike to slice through his purse strings.  I tossed the bag of coin to her lap.  She cackled.  She peeled it open, separated a few coins, then threw it back to me.  “Gladiator, I owe a debt to a Rakhii guard for a kind deed done a long time ago.”  She looked at the princess, taking in her disheveled mane and arms smeared with dirt and new bruises from all the times she’d been nearly stolen from me today.  “I took what the clothing will cost to replace.  Now send your lady in to change.”

I stashed the auctioneer’s corpse under the wagon, intending to move him if we weren’t caught in the time it would take to change outfits.  Leading the little female by her elbow, we entered the wagon and I dug through the chest until I found her a suitable sized dress.  Careful not to startle her, I began unknotting the scarf that bound the blanket in place.  That done, I pressed the dress into her hands and gave her my back so she could change in privacy.  I set aside a pair of chaps, and began peeling off the fighting plates that covered my chest.  I found breeches with an appropriately sized slit in the back for my tail, and stepped into them, leaving my leg armors on and now mostly hidden with the chaps providing even more cover.  “Is it safe to turn?” I called softly.

“Uhldunn.” Came the reply.  It sounded like the same affirmative she’d used this morning after relieving herself.  I turned and looked for a shirt that would fit me without being too tight in the shoulders.  I needed to be able to move.  When I happened to glance her way, I caught the princess locked in place, staring at my bare chest.

Not with fear, but with pure feminine appreciation.

“I see I should have had you turn,” I said.  She may not have understood my words, but the moment she realized she was gawking, she met my eyes and everything from her throat and up blushed a bright, pretty crimson.

I hadn’t realized Gryfala changed color like a Rakhii.  I wondered what other colors she could change to.

I gave her a wicked grin.  She answered with an embarrassed little smile that charmed my hearts before she desperately began looking all around us, attempting to find relief from (what she likely perceived to be) an awkward moment.  As I finished dressing, the tiny Gryfala endeared herself to me further when I saw her carefully tucking the blanket into my satchel as if it were precious to her also.  She surprised me by taking on the matter of fitting my discarded chest plates around it.

She was considerate.

It was my understanding that this trait was very… rare.

I was still pondering this when the peddler woman gifted the female with a gaudily quilled headdress and mask.  Then she eyed my incredibly recognizable horns.  “I have one hat that might work… how do you feel about pink stripes and bells?”

“I… thank you for trying.”

She gave me an apologetic smile.  “Might draw more attention.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Then Quest Luck to you anyway.”  She took out a perfume bottle and began spraying the ground where the fight had taken place.  Tucking the Gryfala’s tiny hand into a loop on my breeches, I pulled the dead man out from under the wagon and moved him to the tall brown grasses behind the trash compactor.  Eventually someone would smell him, but for now the stench of garbage would cover this and now that our peddler had covered our scent, she would not be pinpointed for aiding in the crime.

Thankfully, this auction drew a massive crowd and we were mostly swallowed up into a sea of anonymous creatures.  When we were spotted, as serendipity would have it there was always a handful of supporters, helping to turn each run-in into a successful escape.  It grated on me to have to hide, but it happened that my height was a disadvantage when I towered over so much of the crowd, and without a successful disguise for my horns, everyone knew what I was, so if they were looking for us; they had us.  Every time I was spotted was another time I put the Gryfala at risk.  So we scrambled under carts, ran at each opportunity that I could avoid a fight, and hid whenever and wherever we had to.

Like now.

We’d been doing more running than dodging, and the Gryfala’s stamina was flagging.  She was trying to calm her breathing, and held a hand pressed to her side as if it pained her.

I looked around, and spotted a place I thought we could find a proper hiding spot.  I began to head in that direction when her spine shot straight and she dug her feet in.

Ah.  I leaned down to nuzzle the top of her head.  “I know, princess.  It’s a sale barn.”  Then I pulled back enough that she could see into my eyes.  “The last time you were in one… that won’t happen.  Trust me?”

Worried lines forming between her eyes, and chewing her lip apprehensively, she followed me willingly enough when I avoided the stalls entirely and led her into a dark corner where the hay was stored.  It was clean, there was a lot of it.  But I backed her into the corner, planted myself in front of her, then scooped armfuls of hay towards us, attempting to push it into a wall formation so we were less covered in it and more hidden behind it.  It didn’t work exactly as I’d hoped, but.  We wouldn’t be seen.

I itched my arm, watching the scales turn an irritated shade of green.  “I didn’t know that I had hay allergies until today,” I whispered conversationally.

She watched me, and either her skin was irritated too or all my scratching was making her itchy.  Her blunt nails ran along her arms, leaving little reddened trails.  “Sorry.” I said grimly.  “I’m a little too noticable in the daylight,” I pointed to my horns.  “We’ll try it again in a few hours, alright?”

Time passed slowly.  She slumbered, head propped against the wall at her back.  It didn’t look comfortable.  Easing her forward, I pulled her into my lap and positioned her against me so that her chin rested in the crook of my neck.  I attempted to ignore how good that felt.  Her mask irritated my scales almost as much as the hay did, or that’s what I told myself as I removed it and stored it in my pack.  It wasn’t like it was working to hide her anyway – not when she was beside my very recognizable form.

I hadn’t removed it just so I could revel in her breath heating my neck scales again.

I grimaced.  I wasn’t normally in the habit of lying to myself.

Traveling to matches on my own got lonely, and except for brief hugs with my mother or my sister, my physical interaction with females was zero.  This was such a small thing, really, but my entire being was soaking up every exhale of condensation as if it were treasure.

I shook myself - internally, so as not to disturb her.  I needed to concentrate on planning.  Under the cover of full dark, I hoped I’d be able to move around without notice.  The auction workers would have to give up an active search soon, thinking that I’d do the smart thing and get the infernofire off of this rock before I was caught.  But every time they spotted me, the hunt was on again.

We needed to find a way to get away from here and fast.

At full dark, I woke my little companion.  She came to her feet groggy and with her stomach grumbling loudly.  I cringed, not enjoying the sound any better now than I had for the last hour she had fitfully tried to rest on an empty belly.  I brushed the hay off of her and was ridiculously satisfied when she didn’t shy away from my touch.  I was not nearly as gentle with myself and the sweet sound of her laugh rang out when I began to beat at my scales, pounding the chaff away.

I shot her a grin.  She blushed.

“You’re moon-ringed enchanting,” I said quietly as I smoothed a knuckle across her cheekbone.  I was careful to keep my thumbnail tucked to my palm, so that I didn’t stab her in the eye.  How did hobs manage?  She was such a delicate little creature.  So much more captivating than I ever thought a Gryfala could be.  And so very, very soft.  Silky.

I realized I’d been staring rudely when her gaze nervously skittered away from mine.  I took a step back.

She didn’t try to reprimand me.

I waited, uncertain.  When she met my gaze again though, she just looked confused.  And maybe shy.

How curious.  She wasn’t living up to her kind’s reputation much at all.

I tried to ignore how much I liked that.

I took her hand and led her outside.

We kept to the outskirts, and I bought sustenance from the first vendor we found with food.  Not sure what she liked, I bought a few items from the menu and instead of taking a table in the common area, I led her to the shadows and sat facing the foot traffic, yet out of passerby sight.  She nibbled hesitantly on everything, but seemed enthusiastic for nothing.  I wished for the hundredth time today that we could talk to each other.  What she didn’t finish, I consumed without haste, and then we picked up our circuit as I made my way back to our kind peddler woman.  It occurred to me as we rested that perhaps she could take us to her next stop.

Unfortunately... she’d pulled up stakes and had already left.  I tugged on my ear in frustration and the Gryfala stared like she hadn’t noticed that I even had ears before this.  I relaxed them so that they extended forward a little and when I leaned down so she could get a better look, she tentatively petted the length of one.

“Quuut.”

Whatever that meant.  I felt one side of my mouth lift a fraction.  From her tone, I could tell she was admiring them.  She was sweet.

After that, when we were noticed, no one bothered us and better; no one reported us.  Yet.  But the attention we were attracting kept me uneasy.

The princess was tiring quickly.  And her night vision seemed to be nearly nonexistent.  Every so often, she’d stumble over a root or a pothole in the road and only her grasp on my arm kept her upright.  I still hadn’t come up with any great plan, and I was beyond frustrated.  I stopped with the intention of miming to her that I would politely need to insist on carrying her - an action that seemed to make her uncomfortable if it went on for more than a few miles, but one which I didn’t mind – not in the least - when she waved to something behind me.  I turned.

It was a small Yaldounish child.  It cheekily waved back and in a voice so much teveking louder than necessary it yelled, “Princess!  Over here!”

I tamped down my irritation though when it bowed to the lady and offered her a yuk-yuk fruit.  With innate grace, she took it, murmuring something in a kind, gracious tone.  Then she shot me a look before lifting her shoulders and sniffing it.  When she made no further move, I plucked it from her fingers, bit through the hard husk, and used my thumbs to pry it open.  I handed it back to her.  She brought it to her face, and did her best to examine it in the soft perimeter light of the wagon we stood next to.  Her little tongue darted out to lap at the fruit juice.  Her face ridges rose.  “Lyekeh sehweet cornh!  Wow, tank-ew!”

She tried to hand me the other half, but I pushed it back to her.  “You eat.”  I knew she hadn’t consumed much of the food from earlier.  The Yaldounish ran off.  But he returned quickly, and this time, he brought three others with him, one much younger, the other two not much older than himself.  They hooted and bowed and I looked around before hissing sharply, “Have a care – quiet.”  The children subdued immediately, almost shrinking from us.

The princess gave me a reproachful glare.

“Please.” I added through my teeth to the Yaldounish bunch.  They calmed a little.  But not much.  They converged on her – not caring about the stickiness on her hands from the yuk-yuk, they all but dragged her, winding us through wagons and vendor tents.  She kept looking back to check that I was following, and I felt my lips quirk involuntarily at her half-alarmed, half-bemused expression.  We stopped at a big green wagon, where a Yaldounish man was rolling up a length of canvas.  When he saw a princess being dragged into his camp, he looked like he was about to fall over.  A woman joined him, and they both simply… gaped.

The woman snapped out of her shocked state first.  “Creator be!”  She bobbed into a curtsy.  Her husband recovered then, and peeled off his cap, keeping it fisted to his chest.  “We heard there were kidnapped Gryfala auctioned yesterday, but we dismissed it as rumors.”

“I haven’t seen any of the others,” I said, making the woman jump as she noticed me.  I stepped into the lamplight circling their wagon so she could see me better.  “But I saved this one from the Krotruvians who bought her.  She hasn’t had an easy time of it.  She doesn’t speak any language that I recognize.”

The woman covered her mouth with her hands.

“It looks like you are getting ready to leave.” I started.

The man spoke up.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a Rakhii.”  He smiled kindly.  “So that old saying really is true.  If you find a Rakhii, just wait, and you can catch a glimpse of the princess he’s guarding.”

He looked back at the princess then in wonder.  “Incredible.  She’s not overweening and proud like you’d expec-”  He cleared his throat sharply and  turned back to me.  “That was rude, I apologize.  We are leaving.  And…” he eyed me, his lower teeth jutting out in consideration.  “We’ve just enough room to stow away two passengers if you don’t get us caught.”

“I have every intention of laying low and getting her home safely.” I assured him.

He stuck out his fingers for a tap.  “Then welcome to our wagon.”

I kept watch in the shadows while the Gryfala played with their little ones quietly.  The Yaldounish couple packed their camp up efficiently, and seemed grateful to have their children kept thoroughly occupied.  As she smiled and let them count her fingers and crawl onto her lap, it was easy to see that her maternal instincts were already strong.  She would make a good brooder for her band of hobs someday.

The thought made my hearts ache strangely.

I rubbed my chest and turned to the man.  “Your lodgings are ready,” he said grandly, and pointed to the back set of stairs.  As I helped her stand and brush off sand, he inclined his head and added, “Thank you for keeping the children occupied.”  He bowed, this time much more naturally.  Genuine.

She nodded back to him and dazzled him with a brilliant smile.  I shook myself.  Dazzled me too.

I helped her up the steps, and even without words, I could tell how grateful she was to have somewhere to rest.

A space had been cleared for us, but there was nothing to sleep on.  I didn’t imagine the family had much in the way of pillows or blankets to spare.

Her hobs would have no trouble in this situation.  I snorted at the irrational sense of bitterness.  Rakhii anatomy posed a slight difficulty, but traveling around to different match locales meant that I had plenty of experience in making do when accommodations weren’t necessarily Rakhii friendly.  I let my satchel thunk to the floor, and I dropped down next to it.  I rolled to my back just like a hob would – then I used the satchel to prop up my neck so that my horns weren’t keeping me entirely jammed upright.  I raised an arm to the Gryfala, inviting her.  Exhausted, she began to lower herself at my side instead.

On the cold, hard floor?  “No, you’re not,” I ordered as I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her on top of me, ignoring her squeak.  I grimaced, thinking that I’d been giving out a lot of orders to a princess.  If she was keeping a mental tally of the lashings I was earning for my impudence, then my back was going to be in shreds when we made it home.

“Settle,” I murmured, and stroked my fingers through her mane, working out the tangles.

She gave a great sigh.  And went still.

The floor was unyielding under me, and the pressure created from my horns against my skull would grow tiresome, but this I would survive.  The feeling of her body on top of mine was indescribable.  Never had I imagined how… satisfying this would feel.  I would have laid back on a bed of poisoned spines to have her stretch over me like this.  The rocking motion of the wagon was soothing – if a little jarring when we hit a stray rock - and soon, she was sound asleep on my chest.  Her scent, somehow sweeter than yesterday despite our day of travel - filled my nostrils, and… it was the oddest sensation, like the most pleasant burn imaginable every inhale.  She didn’t weigh enough to even begin to compress my lungs so it didn’t make sense.

But there it was all the same.

I pet her crownfur, running my fingers through the long strands.  Her mane was glorious.  Thick and shiny and so soft.  Her breath feathered against my chest scales making me shiver slightly.  Too good.  I couldn’t move her though. She needed sleep.  My sore, gritty eyes told me I did too.  I should keep watch, but I was exhausted.  And if not here, where would it be safe for me to recharge?  I listened and watched for a few more miles, but all was serene – just a wagon plodding its nomadic course, no danger befalling us along the road so far.  I prayed for safety and let my eyes drift closed.

I woke to an inquisitive touch tracing a pattern over my abdomen.  Then back up, brushing over my pectorals, picking at the edges of my scales with her blunted nails, exploring the thick plates that protected my throat - yet were still incredibly sensitive - and apparently, were as starved for touch as the rest of my skin.

My body was on fire.

I felt jittery and off.  And hot.

What was the matter with me?

When I felt her breath against my cheek, I opened my eyes and grabbed her exploring hands to still them.  She startled backward but I held her so she wouldn’t fall off my lap.

She gave me a sheepish smile.

She was so beautiful.  I leaned forward and nuzzled her nose with the bridge of mine.  Our eyes locked, held.  I searched, but found no hint that she’d been anything but naturally curious with her touch.

I let her hands go and she dropped them to my abdomen and scooted her body further from my face.  She propelled back by wriggling her behind.

Right over my crotch.

My body jackknifed as if I’d been electrocuted.  My hands were suddenly gripping her hips, and I don’t know how they got there.  I would swear to the high courts that I made no conscious thought.  I couldn’t.  All the blood in my body had fled with the crashing speed and gravity of a waterfall, and all of it pooled at my groin.  My cock was trapped and simultaneously unhappy and hopeful.  My instincts were going wild as I stared at her.  She was stunning, and for the moment – all mine.  Mine?

Mine!

She shifted position and tevek, my teeth squeaked as I ground my jaws together.  My hips flexed upward by instinct, and she pitched forward with a startled gasp, her palms slapping on my chest and I groaned.  I had the tiny, tiniest thought that she looked alarmed.  But when I brought my hand to the back of her head to pet her hair and grasp her neck, her eyes turned soft and she smiled.  And her smile charmed the thoughts right out of my brain.

I rubbed her thigh to soothe myself.  She returned the affection by scritching her nails against my chest.

Instinctively my head dropped back, which caused my horns to hit hard against the floor.  The noise made her jump.

My hand moved to her neck again, and I applied enough pressure to bring her closer to my mouth.  Not demanding – no, never.  Merely suggesting.  Begging.  Closer.

The wagon ground to a halt.

The voices of impressionable younglings rang through the canvas panel that separated their living space from the cargo area we were stowed away in.

The canvas was flung aside as the Yaldounish mother walked in with a bowl of stew.

Her gasp had my horns changing color.  What was I doing?  With downcast eyes I removed my hand from the thigh that I had no right to touch, let go of the sweet smelling neck that I should not have been cupping, and slid the princess – a princess – off of my lap, and withdrew the bowl from the wife’s frozen hands.

Just that little distance had my temperature cooling.  And… I swallowed experimentally.  Something about my-

“Without her hobs!  And at her age?  She doesn’t even have wings yet!  And after all she must have suffered at an auction!”  The woman was sputtering and with each point, I felt as if I should be shrinking with the shame.

My attempt to thank her for the food was rebuffed when the woman made a disgusted noise before whirling away.

She was right.  Hobs should be here.  I shouldn’t be alone with a Gryfala this way.  I never thought I’d have reason - let alone the opportunity - to even worry about such a possibility ever, ever occurring, but it was obvious that I couldn’t be trusted.

The thought made my head pound.  I needed to be trustworthy.  I could be.  I was.

When the canvas snapped back in place, Angie gave me a wide eyed, bright-cheeked look.  Carefully, I tore a piece of the bread that was sopping up the blue gravy juice and held it out for her.  She didn’t move.  I sighed.  “Come on, princess.  You have to eat.”  When she covered her cheeks with her hands - it made her look so... innocent.  Creator, she looked so young.

Perhaps she was feeling scandalized.

Of course she was.

What had come over me?

How I’d reacted… what if she really was just a fledgling?

What a deeply disturbing thought.

And I desperately hoped that wasn’t the case.  I took her hands gently.

Slowly, I leaned in and nuzzled her cheekbone.  “I’m sorry.”

I let my neck relax so that my forehead met hers.

Thunk.

“Owwch,” she said and I cursed – not because I was hurt, I wasn’t - but because I’d hurt her.

I pulled back and she cradled her head in her hands.  After a moment, I grasped her little chin in my palm and tilted her head so I could look.  I rubbed a thumb over her forehead.  “Tevek!  No wonder Gryfala are so reserved around Rakhii!  I forgot your kind aren’t like mine; you don’t have a browplate.”

She tapped the back of her knuckle above my brow, a tiny thwack.  Then she shook out her fingers.  I brought them to my mouth and kissed them.

She froze, staring.

I dropped her hand to her lap and cleared my throat.  “Now that we’ve let the food get cold as a vetcher’s backside, let’s get you fed.”  Despite the temperature, she ate readily from my hand and seemed to enjoy it best out of all the food I had fed her so far.  I wondered if I could entice the Yaldounish wife to fill up one of my canteens with stew.  I could buy a freeze stick from a food vendor and that would keep it for a day or more.  By then, I hoped we’d have transport off this rock.  She could be indulging in the delights of a Gryfala feast table in a mere rotation.

With her hobs.

My knuckles cracked, and I shook out the fist I’d unconsciously made.

The feelings I was having for this female were growing alarmingly… possessive.

Forbidden!

I bit back a growl.  This was only temporary!  I knew the moment I had seen her that she would have a service of hobs – either her cadre of sires to protect her, or a set of guards that served her.  Or the set that she was amassing for the day she came of age if she really were still young.

I shook out my ears at the thought.  I just needed to keep her safe until I could get her home.  That was all.  Home.

Home to all her loving, doting, ostentatious hobs.  Venom burned the back of my throat and I swallowed hard.

When she was full, I cleaned the remains from the bowl.  With no shame, I dragged my tongue along the insides, capturing every last bit of meat juice.  The Gryfala watched me in fascination, making me feel a little self-conscious.

“Rakhii normally have excellent manners,” I assured her.  “But,” I used the spoon to point, “I have the impression that our good woman is not going to break her back feeding me any extra after she found me, um,” corrupting you - alone - just a few feet away from her brood of little ones.  “So!”  I set the bowl near the flap.  “I figure I’d better get all that I can.”

She smiled at me grimly, making me think she understood the situation just fine from my tone.

I stood, then grasped her by the elbows to help her rise.  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to pi–“ I thought better of using such a course word.  No, she couldn’t understand me anyway, but it was the principle of the thing.  “-relieve myself.”

I heard the Yaldounish family telling their little ones to use the bush.  This was our chance to find a bush too.  We clambered down the stairs in the back, where the Yaldounish wife handed a generous amount of softcloth to my--

No!  I could not afford to think of her as mine.

The wife handed a generous amount of softcloth to the Gryfala.

To me, she turned a stony look and a meager strip.  “Thank you.” I said.  And I meant it.  Truthfully, I couldn’t fault her for her disapproval.

I scanned the area before stopping in front of a decent sized scraggle bush.  I handed ...the... Gryfala my dagger with the widest blade.  She blinked at it, forehead wrinkling.

I took it back, and crouched to demonstrate; I dug a little pit, made a gesture, then used the flat to shove a mound of sand over the hole.

She nodded.  I slowly gave her my back because I knew now that she preferred privacy, and it also blocked her from view of the wagoneers.

“Yurr tern.”

We switched places.

When we made it back to the wagon, it was to line up for the use of the wash basin.  Water being the precious commodity that it was out here, it wasn’t changed between hands.  I guided her to stand before me in line.  The family urged her to be the very first – then they tittered and curtsied when she demurred and with red marked cheeks motioned for them to proceed before her.

Last to the bowl, I dunked my hands into the grey, sludgy brew and used the rough bar of soap to scrub up.  I nodded to the wagoneer, who only glowered at me.  Apparently, his wife had shared with him the details of the scene she walked in on.  With a grimace, I steered the Gryfala to the wagon steps.

Despite having woken up such a short time ago, I could use a few more hours of rest.  Hopefully, spent equally pleasant too.  My arms full of her warm softness?  It had been wonderful.

Addictive.

Wagon rolling along once more, I leaned back on the floor, using my arms to prop up my head.  I looked at her.

A dirt smear on her cheek.  Dress wrinkled and falling off one shoulder.  Her hair was a bit tangled.

I felt the great muscles behind my ribs spasm.

I ignored them.

I patted my chest.  “Please.  Come here.”

She did without hesitation.  The gratified feeling racing through my chest was irrational.  I wasn’t gentling her; I wasn’t.  She wasn’t meant to be mine.  This only scratched the surface of what her hobs would do for her, and since they weren’t here, their duties simply became mine.  Temporarily.

I paused, hands going still on her for a blink.  By that reasoning, for the time being, she WAS mine.  MINE.  I would not get to stay with her…

Unless she chose me.

I bit back a growl.  My feelings weren't right.  What would I do when she was reunited with her hobs?  Even if she chose me, added me to her guard, what would I do when she sent me to the corner, my duty to watch while other males-

Her hand on my throat, testing the rumbling vibrations there, made me realize I was growling.

I needed to regain my calm.  I swallowed, noting again the odd sensation in my mouth, and when her fingers began skipping over my scales, first tapping all the ones currently blue, then the ones reflecting yellow-

I liked her.  If she weren’t a Gryfala…

But she was.

If I was a hob…

But I wasn’t.

For now though, I was here.  I was the only being keeping her safe.  That meant she was my charge.  My Gryfala charge.  And, I reminded myself; was it so wrong to think of her as mine as long as I remembered that this was all temporary?

Nothing wrong with temporarily being mine.  Nothing.  Because it was only temporary.

It was easy enough to say.  Therefore, I repeated it over and over until I didn’t feel any guilt at all for acting above my station and rubbing up and down her back, and crooning to her as I worked the knots from her mane.

She snuggled her face right over the steady thump of my hearts and made a contented noise in her sleep.

I hoped to heaven’s gate that she made it home safe soon.

I didn’t want to be the first Rakhii in my family that had to be broken from a Gryfala.

6

ANGIE

I woke up sprawled on top of my really, really, well-muscled alien.  It was amazing how much I didn’t feel freaked out when I looked at him now.

When our eyes met, I gave him a sleepy smile.  He leaned forward, necessitating my hands planting themselves on his chest so that I could stay atop him.  He rolled upward, abs crunching deliciously, and his face came nearer to mine slowly, so slowly.

He returned the smile.

“You’re the warmest, most comfortable mattress I have ever slept on, you know.  And you smell fantastic today.  I’m not being sarcastic; somehow, you really do.  Not fair.  I probably smell like something you'd find in the bottom of a swamp.”  I grimaced, and watched his eyes move over my face, following my expression with rapt focus.  He was so attentive!  I sighed happily.  “But even so, you’re starting to really grow on me,” I told him.

He brought his hand up to my cheek.

It made me remember earlier, when it was like we had this moment… for a second there, I could have sworn this alien had been about to kiss me.

And now…

His hand cupped my face - and added just enough pressure to move my lips closer to his.

Was he…  Was he really about to-

Of course, that’s the moment when the mother of the alien kids chose to appear.

Not again!

She made an outraged squawking sound.

My alien groaned.  “Pnah, zhay rutt nsk hutg!”

‘Look, this isn’t what it looked like,’ or maybe ‘I swear, I didn’t touch her.’  Yeah.  Even I could tell, this didn’t look good.  I carefully moved from his lap, stretching.  The woman shot me a worried look, then handed me a small tray of food.

I noticed though that she didn’t have one for my alien.  And my plate of food was pretty tiny; as in, just enough for me.  And he’d eaten his rat yesterday.  (Which was good, because it had started to smell a bit funky.)  My alien rubbed his face with his hands.  I sank cross-legged on the floor and rubbed his leg in commiseration.  “It’s sort of super for her to look out for me.”  I nudged the tray of food towards him.  “But we’re gonna have fun splitting this now.”

He looked offended.  He nudged it back, but reached over to pick up the spoon and scoop up the sludge for me.  I was going to hope it was oatmeal or porridge.  I stared at it.  Maybe it was both.  Orridge.  Or Idgemeal.  It looked and smelled as awful as both those name ideas sounded.

It didn’t taste much better.

I tried to feed myself, but his expression turned frosty.  It was kind of adorable.  The wagon stopped just as I was pushing the bowl to him saying, “All done, you better take it.”  He didn’t look like he believed I was full.  I wasn’t.  But he tipped the bowl back and swallowed it all down.

Impressive.  Because I was pretty sure if the rocking of the wagon made it slosh around in my stomach for a second longer, I’d be bringing it back up right now.  Idgemeal was not my favorite.

We repeated the bathroom routine.  Washed hands in cold water.  My alien grasped my upper arm and examined my goose bumps.  He rubbed on them until they went away despite me trying to explain that I was fine.

The mother watched him.  And when we filed back into the wagon, she popped the flap back to toss me a furry hide, and then she dropped a hunk of bread in front of my alien before leaving without a word – which I wouldn’t have understood anyway, but still.  Cold alien shoulder to him, clearly.

He tried to offer me the bread, but I made him eat it.  He was so big.  I cocked my head, eyeing him critically.  He was going to need way more food than what we were getting here.  We’d have to break off soon from this family and …what?  What was going to happen now?  I didn't know.  And I couldn’t exactly ask him about it, language barrier and all.

I shrugged - an action that he observed with interest.  I had nothing but time, right?  I scooted closer to him.

I pointed to myself.  “Angie.”

His mouth full of bread, he startled.  “Eh?”

I pointed to myself again.  “Angie.  Angie.”

I pointed to his chest.  Raised my eyebrows.

His lips quirked.  He swallowed the bread in one gulp.  Eyes never breaking connection, he said, “Arokh.”

“Arokh?”

He repeated it, slowly exaggerating the click at the end and I tried my best to copy it.  He started to nod sideways, paused, shrugged, then nodded like, ‘Sure.  Close enough.’

I smiled ruefully.

“Ahhhngee?” Click.

“Annngee.”

“Anngee.” His throat moved as he clicked his tongue over the ‘ie’ sound.

“Interesting.  Yeah, why not?  Arokh, and Angie.”

He looked very pleased at this.

I pointed to the hide. “Pelt?”

“Dupin.”

He leaned towards me, and fingered the edge of my dress, tugging it up to cover my shoulder.  “Treht.”

For some reason, I thought we’d exchange words, but I began following his lead to repeat after him, learning his.  I was, after all, the real alien here.  He was a patient teacher, which was a good thing because as it happened, I was not a great clicker, apparently a key sound for his language.

We ran out of items and features of the back of the wagon to point to so I began pointing out body parts.  He didn’t seem as shocked-fascinated like I was about our differences.  His legs were especially interesting, with his knee bending the same direction as a human – but then very different from a human, it moved into an exaggerated ‘heel’ which, when standing upright, was raised off the ground, sort of like a dog.  He toes were thick and wedge shaped, resembling a Rhino’s, but finer, so much more elegant, with bone and muscle just under the skin rather than rolls of rubbery-looking tissue.

We ran out of items to name.  Feeling rested, yet with nothing to do, and without a lamp, or a flashlight, it was getting dark fast back in our part of the wagon and very, very boring.  Finally sick of my fidgeting, I guess, he pushed me into the crook of his arm and told me to “oosaka”.

Sleep.  Got it.  Yay.

When I sighed, the sound of his chuckle warmed my whole body.

The next day, we parted ways with the wagoneers.  Each little one acted like the hugs I gave them were the greatest gifts ever - until I passed out flowers that Arokh had picked for me on our way back from the ‘bathroom’.  They squealed and their parents beamed like I’d handed out something far grander than weeds.

And then we walked.  We walked and walked and walked until my shins felt like they were going to snap, and my feet were sore, and my hips ached, and my calves were twitching, and- Okay, okay.  I had a whole list to whine about.  I needed to prioritize so as not to bore myself with my catalog of complaints – let alone Arokh, who took in my quiet grumbling with mounting concern.

Whenever he looked at me in worry, I gave a very long-suffering sigh and some variation of a promise to; “I’ll stop complaining.  For real this time.  I’m fine.”

He grunted like he didn’t quite believe me.

When I stumbled, his arms were suddenly scooping me up, and holding me securely against his brawny, scaled self.  My body was simultaneously protesting and exhilarated; my muscles screaming all the while being happy for the break.

This place seemed to be one huge auction.  I’d think we were going in circles, except that the landscape was subtly changing - and so was the temperature.  Arokh managed to find us yet another mostly-empty sale barn with a well bedded stall.  I wasn’t much fonder of them than I had been before, but I was so damn tired of walking.  He had to be feeling exhausted too.  Any place to rest was better than trying to trudge on.  He kicked shavings over some offal in the corner, and bedded us down on the other side.  It was dry and cushier to sleep on than a wagon floor, but the shavings might have been infested with alien critters.

Arokh bent his head to scratch at his back (using the tip of his horn!) for the third time.

I leaned forward and scritched the spot he couldn’t quite reach.

He rolled with a long, loud sigh, clearly in the throes of bliss.  When he ended up on his stomach, I straddled his back and begin to scratch his scales thoroughly.  Why not?  It wasn’t like there was a bunch else to do.  And I wanted to do something nice for him after he kept me as comfortable and fed as he could, and protected my very life and all.

As his groans of ecstasy rumbled from his chest and set off a tremolo against my very bones, I reflected that I had a couple hundred pounds of sheer muscle and maleness between my legs, and it was nice.  Reassuring, as far as it could be here, anyway.  This big guy made me feel safe – he kept me safe, as safe as he was able.

It was seriously giving me all the feels.  Over… an… alien?

When my hands eased off with their scratching, he rolled slowly enough that I could shift to stay on top of him, and when he was on his back, looking up at me with this serious, suddenly intense expression - his nostrils flared.

It reminded me of all the paranormal romance books I’d read, where the shifter/vampire can smell arousal.

I snorted.  Ridiculous.

When he suddenly tugs my legs I startle, but he just gives me a gentle smile and begins massaging my aching calves.  Whoa.  Ooooh like that, yes just like that.  It’s like Ow and Awesome mixed together, my legs hurt so badly and love it so much.  Commence turning into living jelly. I groan.  “Wow, Arokh, don’t stop…”

His ears twitch as he listens to my moaning.  Then he digs into the soles of my feet until I almost melt off of him; yes, melt.  My body has turned liquid.  This makes him shift quickly to brace his hands at my hips, and once there, his big fingers begin rotating into the tight muscles of my lower back.

Boneless.  I can’t keep my eyes open.  With a hand pressed to my back he gently guides me to rest against his chest.

Gosh, this guy is just the best, I think as I fall asleep.

7

AROKH

She is falling asleep and trusting me – me, a lowly, lone gladiator - implicitly with her safety.

I also couldn’t fail to notice that she was beginning to initiate contact more and more.  Every time she touched me voluntarily, I brutally attempted to quell a flash of satisfaction.

She was either too young to know she was chemically altering us, or she was consciously choosing to connect - to strongly connect - us together.  I wasn’t above being grateful even for the former, but I wanted to rub my temples across her shoulders, her belly, at the mere thought of the latter.

It was calling something inside me, stirring instincts a gladiator isn’t supposed to have.  Not for one of her kind.  Today marked the first day that I felt the thrumming in my soul.

I nuzzled her neck as I inhaled her scent.  The thrumming came even stronger; so did the yearning to keep her as close as possible.

To think that my growing devotion to her was a danger…

It didn't feel like it should be a bad thing.

It didn't feel wrong.

Pressure built up in my chest as I tried not to let myself dwell on her future without me.  And failed.

The next morning was chilly enough to have me worrying about my Gryfala.  But the market was bustling and she was watching the food options with interest.  I halted when she gave a sharp sort of chirp.  I tried to find what had caught her attention.

A cheatig vendor.  I let her lead me to his cart, and for once it was easy to keep pace since her steps were extra hurried.  When we reached his stand, she was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet.  She excitedly pointed to the bounty, exclaiming something that sounded like “Oh Emm Gee ahhn Apuul!”

She made a move to take one but I got there first, inspecting the bruised fruit carefully, setting aside the spoiled ones until I uncovered a decent specimen.

I picked it up and offered it to her from my hand.  She gave me an exasperated smile but took the one I held out, sniffed it, then bit into it…

and looked very disappointed.

She made a face, before looking around hurriedly, pushing out her tongue as if she was going to spit her mouthful out.  I snatched the cheatig away from her and brought it to my snout.  It smelled fine.  I bit into it; bitter and flakey as always.

“It doesn’t taste soured.”  I said and handed it back to her.

She stared at it between her palms, a line forming between her brows.  “Yew knoo?  Beck huume thee Hunnee Crisp apuul is in seesun.  I luff Hunnee Crisps.  And now I ehm meesing out.  Eye’ll nefur see tem agin.  Nefur see anee uff it agin, weel I?”

I looked at her.  “I take it that wasn’t quite what you thought it was.”

Then I saw the tear that rolled over the round of her cheek that I knew for a fact was softer than feather-down; I watched the tear tremble at the edge of her chin.

I grabbed her to me.  “What is wrong, sweetling?” I cast a baffled look to the cheatig vendor.

He was all but wringing the life out of his smock as he stared in horror at my Angie’s upset state.  “We sell the best in all of the planet, I swear, gladiator.”

I nodded unhappily, and reached for the satchel at my waist so I could dig out his coin.

“No, no, I won’t hear of it.” He said firmly, still not looking at me.  And his next words were to Angie.  “My deepest apologies.”  He gave a small bow.

Angie choked.

I patted her back, and now the vendor was really beside himself.  “Here, please, take a wafaa leaf.  Maybe that will be more to your liking!”

Angie blinked and rapidly tried to swipe under her eyes before she hesitantly accepted the leaf from him.  Her furred face ridges were nearly touching as she tickled the palm of her hand with the feathery pink tuft at the top.

Then slowly, instead of biting it, she raised it to her ear and tucked it into her locks, as if it were a hair adornment.  She gave the vendor a tremulous smile that seemed to ease him.

“You honor me, Your Highness!  Acting as if it were a prized flower, pah!”  He shook a finger at her and winked.

One side of her mouth quirked up hesitantly.  Then she put her hand in mine.  As we turned away, her stomach growled, and I realized just how much her still-hungering state upset me when my spines unconsciously raised and began to shake menacingly.  I looked around, noting that on this rock, the best foods available to us weren’t even close to what she would enjoy again once I could get her home.  I had to get her home.  I had to.  She deserved so much better than this place.

People pointed to her wafaa leaf as we meandered through the market, and by the end of the day other women were wearing them on their own heads.  She was unaware she was inspiring fashion.  In this place.  Princess emulation.  I shook my head, thinking that vendor was probably counting his blessings right now; he was making a fortune today because of Angie.

8

ANGIE

At least his lap was more comfortable for my ass.

Another night, another frigid cold night, stuck on this alien planet, with aliens all around me, aliens looking at me every day like I was the thing that escaped from a zoo.  Which was extra ironic since most of them looked like escapees from a circus freak sideshow.

Arokh used his big thumbs to brush away my tears.  This poor guy.  He had no idea why I was having a mental breakdown.

“I’m never going to get home.  I’m going to die here, aren’t I?”

His lips nuzzled at my temple.  His warm body was a comfort in this cold, shitty place.  And I was so glad to have it - to have him.

“And if you don’t leave me somewhere, you’re going to die too, you know that, right?”  I looked at him imploringly.  “You’re in danger because of me.  You should have gotten away when you had the chance.”

Arokh wasn’t breaking eye contact, and with my every word, he was becoming more and more anxious.  It was obvious that despite not speaking english, he could read that I was hitting the end of my rope just fine.

“Now you’re stuck here too.  We’ll never see our families again - not that mine was much good - my cousin Chris still owes me a thousand bucks, that rat bastard - but yours seemed nice.”  Then I threw up my hands.  “What about our friends?  I had great friends!  You probably did too, you’re so nice to be around.”

Arokh caught one of my hands and started to kiss my fingers.  To be soothing, I think.  I tried to ignore the part where punctuated each kiss with a lick.  Aliens.  So fucking weird.

“How many movie nights have I missed?  Oh, movies.  I miss television.  I miss electricity!  I miss food - real food!  You know, good food!  And music.  I would shiv a bitch for my phone right now, I have these playlists...”

Arokh’s ears flicked as I talked - and he let me - he let me talk and talk and it didn’t matter that he obviously had to pretend to be absolutely engrossed in my every word since he couldn’t understand a thing - he just kept petting my back and my hair the entire length of my tirade.

And a tirade it was.

Because his life, my life-

All of it.

Everything.

Gone.

And I could die tomorrow.

Then the most terrifying thought sunk in.

Arokh could die tomorrow.  What if he died?

Odds were, he’d get killed trying to save me - and if he died, it’d be because some really bad alien was trying to get me.

I’d already had the preview of the alien-life-that-was-not-Arokh episode.

A gang of scary awful nightmarish aliens was what I could look forward to without Arokh in my life.

I cried even harder.

Arokh made a low noise that rumbled not just in his chest or throat - but his nose.  I politely tried to ignore how much it sounded like a velociraptor.

I patted his shoulder.  “You’re being awesome.  I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

Crazy, crazy stuff had happened since I’d woken up in that auction pen.  And my situation didn’t exactly look like it was going to magically improve any time soon.

I tried to inhale slowly and with my mouth open enough that I wouldn’t make the stupid sniffling noise that came along with crying.

It didn’t work.

I looked up and met Arokh’s compassion filled eyes.

When I let myself crumble forward he caught me.  His big arms came around me fully, his head came down level with mine, and, like almost every time I was in them, he made me feel safe.  In the only way he was able, he was letting me know he cared.  It meant everything to me.  Especially right here, right now.

I needed serious comforting right now.

So I hugged my alien tightly.  Then I turned and tapped my lips to his cheek.

He jerked back, clearly shocked.

I bit my lip and tried to smile.  “Guess that’s not a thing here?”

I pecked him again.  “See?  It’s nice, right?”  I reached up and playfully flicked one of his horns.

That made his whole body twitch.  He never took his eyes off me.  It looked like he was struggling over something.

I shrugged.  “Sorry.”  I dropped my head back down on his chest.  Oof.  This guy was built like he was carved from rock.  I watched my fingers as I ran them over the massive muscles in his arms.  Traced the veins.  Watched the colors change.  I didn’t know if it corresponded with his moods, or the temperature, maybe?  But lately a lot of fiery colors.  The more often I poked them, or the longer I held my fingers over them, the darker they would get; white to yellow to orange to blazing red even.

When I felt his nose nuzzling at my hair, more forcefully than he usually did, it was my turn to pull back – but I did it slow, and questioning.

“What is it, big guy?”

Arokh leaned forward.  And carefully planted his lips over mine.

9

AROKH

Shock coursed through my system as all the blood in my brain took leave and headed to the area that snugly cupped her round rear end.

My lap.

I eased my head away, only to blink my eyes back into focus to see that I’d stunned her into silence.

She wasn’t crying anymore though.

If I’d known all it took was a kiss…

I smiled ruefully at her.

That’s when she moved her face further into my space, and cautiously pushed her lips to mine.

Then she flicked out her tongue.

I groaned.

She didn’t let the opportunity by; she licked inside of my mouth and my mind ...stopped functioning.

She took advantage by touching her tongue to mine, and scooting forward in my lap to squeeze my ribs with her knees.  With effort, I peeled my hand off of her shoulder and released her hair from the grip of my other hand, because in that moment, I didn’t trust myself.

Her touch started off hesitant, but grew bolder much quicker than I would have ever anticipated.  I intended to stop her by using a restraint hold I’d heard of.

I must have been informed wrong.

Because as soon as I captured her wrists and gently pressed a bitehold on her neck (keeping my fangs retracted) she became inflamed.

Not the literal flame, of course.  But lustfully, hotly, seductively she gasped and began to pant (possibly because her sinuses were clogged after expelling a great number of tears, but I hoped it was from passion) and whether it was intentional, or instinctive, she began to move on top of me.

Perhaps she was simply readjusting her position.  But her mating place was directly over my groin, and the slight rubbing was divine…

And too brief.  I tried to keep in mind that a mere click ago she’d been crying - but that’s when I smelled it.

I’d never, ever been close enough to a Gryfala to have previous first hand knowledge, but I had heard about their pheromones being strong enough to send hobs into a frenzy.

Angie’s scent made me nearly lose all my sense.

I calculated a rapid internal check, that - I hoped - was not unduly influenced by the flood of arousal hitting my system.  What I knew:  Angie physically had all the outward markers of… maturity.  Save for size.  Hmm.  There was that-

Another brush over my lap had me inhaling sharply and forgetting my point.  What point?  That scent!

My instinct urged me to flip her, and mount her.  It was raging at me to pin her, bite her, enter her.

She feathered a touch at my jaw.  It was a gentle, innocent touch and I reined myself in.  Breath coming hard, I tried to really look at her.

Indecision played out on her face.  Tevek!

Groaning, I fell back, lying submissively beneath her.  I wondered how hobs managed.  There was risk involved in bedding a Gryfala early in her life.  It was said that older Gryfala had the experience to have grown more discerning; only bedding males they intended to keep.  Younger princesses tended to experiment and cast aside hobs - not always callously, not intentionally.  All the same, it was devastating to the hob abandoned after she got all she wanted from him.  Devastating to Rakhii too.

To have a young Gryfala using them as a tool to learn the joy of seduction, testing out her prowess - letting her engage them, letting her set the pace, let her make the advances; all without letting her take advantage.

Those males deserved more credit.

Despite the possibility for abandonment afterward, I had every intention of staying still and letting her learn on me as much as she wished - whatever replaced the sadness in her eyes from clicks ago was welcome - and the endeavor in which she chose to replace her feelings of sadness was beyond favorable.

But then she attempted to encircle her hands around my wrists – and then-

Then she bit me.

Well, no, actually, not quite; she placed her teeth on me.  She didn’t bite down.  Unfortunate, but so much more than I expected.

So close to what I craved from her.  I hadn’t even realized how much until she scraped her teeth along my skin, testing, stoking a fire of yearning in me.

I felt the rumble building in the crest of my nasal cavity.  I was going to trumpet call if she didn’t stop and we really couldn’t afford to attract attention.  But she wasn’t stopping.  I didn’t even want her to – not really.  Yes, yes - I could see now why this hadn’t been effective in cooling her ardor.  Instead of helping to restrain my craving for her, it made me crazed with want.  But did she really mean–

Her hips twitched over mine and I punctured the insides of my lip with my own fangs.  I hadn’t nipped myself since I was a youngling.

She did it again and I bucked my hips, almost unseating her, forcing her to quickly throw her hands down on me to brace herself.  I froze.

But she was thrilled.  “Wow!”  She began to snicker as she whispered, “Jusst leht uht heppin bayybee…” and she bent to kiss me again.

I reared upward, and valiantly resisted the urge to shove her over to her back and cover her body with mine.  Just the thought of doing that – I gripped her hips and shut my eyes, struggling to restrain this urge.  Unlike her kind, males of my species were the ones to initiate a mating.  Males tended to be very dominating; but I could control my base urges.  I could do this.

She ground herself over my cock.

My horns speared into the stall wall when I threw my head back.  She gasped, before covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a happy, trilling expulsion of sound.

My stomach soured a little.  Wasn’t that the sound that fledglings made?  I was fairly sure that adult Gryfalas couldn’t laugh.

How old was she?

10

ANGIE

Well this was an interesting development.

What was I even doing?

Besides giggling.

Like a damn twelve year old.

I was going to cut myself some slack though.  Honestly, I wasn’t sure how far I even wanted to take this, exactly; I just knew this felt good.

Arokh felt good.

Arokh made me feel good.

I wasn’t feeling (as) sorry for myself now.

And I wanted more of feeling good.

Arokh was attractive, his being so attentive of me was actually turning me on and if he were a guy this wouldn’t even be a question.  A human guy, that is.  Arokh was definitely – I wiggled my behind over his considerable bulge – definitely guy.  All guy.  There’d been a moment where his body had gone all tense, and he just looked… let’s say I’d had a temporary moment of panic thinking that he’d go crazy and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.  But, as always, he was nothing but gentle with me.  So, so careful.

Careful?  Caring.

In fact, Arokh kind of even seemed a little hesitant, and subversively, this drove my curiosity and sense of attraction higher.  I decided to be bold; I traced my lips down the line of his throat  - and I nearly purred at the sight of his shivers as I did it.

I leaned back and waited.  He was panting now too, staring at me hard - and unconsciously maybe, his hands were gripping - then, massaging - my thighs.  My ass.

Yet then he squeezed his eyes shut, and went completely still.

Was he reluctant because I was so different from him?  I could understand that.  I was struggling to ignore that myself.  I guess I was surprised that he might have an issue with it; I’d never seen aliens before but he saw aliens-with-aliens-alien-to-them all the time.  We’d been all over the place, and there were mis-matched alien pairs (and trios.  And more.) everywhere we went.

So I didn’t think it was me being different.  At least, not that he was holding it against me because he thought I was weird looking.  Nope, it definitely – I wiggled again, which made him peel his lips back from his… fangs – it definitely didn’t seem to be a problem for him that I looked different than what he was used to.

To test this theory, I whipped my blouse off.

He exploded.  “Angie!”  He sounded appalled-mixed-with-hornified.

I grinned down at him.  Yep.  (Half) Naked-woman-against-guy-in-suit was just as hot here as it was back on earth.  Except, you know, add an alien.

There’s a new category for porn.

I took one of his frozen hands, and brought it to my breast.  And jumped only a little.  Brrr.

“Angie!”  This time he sounded like an old door hinge.  It was so out of character for his deep, beautiful voice that I burst out laughing.

(Alright, alright - it may have been another freakin’ giggle.)

My laughter was like a bucket of icewater for him.  He snatched his hand away, then tried to get up – but his horns were still stuck in the wood.  He grunted – then he put a hand up protectively against my forehead before he threw his head forward– and yank - horns were free.

I sighed as I watched his muscles pull and flex with his actions.

That’s when Arokh grasped my hips and dropped me into the shavings…

…beside him?

“Awww,” I whined, and then tried to hide my elation when he gave me a sideways, harried, hot look.

His eyes narrowed.

He was still panting hard when he began talking.  Although I didn’t understand a word he said, I could gather that he was telling me to cool off, and not to tempt him further.  When I grinned, he chuffed and shook his head.  His next words were more of a growl.

This did not have the intended effect, and he knew that by the way I was still giving him a goofy huh-you’re-kinda-sexy-when-you’re-ruffled smile.

So he turned his back to me, and I put my blouse back on because daaamn it was cold when I wasn’t on top of an alien – I hadn't made up my mind in so many words to have full-out sex with an alien, but I’d been in the moment and he had too so I did wonder what'd made him hit the brakes.

Maybe he didn’t actually like human like that.  Maybe, unlike the other aliens we’d seen, his culture forbade getting busy with someone from another place.  I hadn’t actually seen any other aliens like him since the last two said goodbye to us, so maybe his kind kept to themselves and stayed far, far away from other aliens.  (I mean look what happened to the girl – aliens had clearly taken her away from her kind and crammed her in a cage.  Aliens had taken me and crammed me in a cage.  I’d say staying away from aliens was a damn fine rule.  You know.  Except for the very tiny handful of nice ones I’d come into contact with.)

Or maybe he had a family back where he was from.

That stopped me cold(er).

Oh, shit...  What if all this time he was just being nice to me, helping me out, staying out on the run with me but he had a Missus Horned Alien at home?

I could be an alien homewrecker.

I drew my knees up as I sat up, and felt my stomach knot.  Why hadn’t I thought of that?

And I’d been the jerk that pushed for more.

This did not make me feel good.

I dropped my forehead to my knees.

“Angie?”

I didn’t respond.  Didn’t even move.  I was mortified.  Horrified.  Disgusted with myself.

“Angie?”  Now I was worrying him.

I felt his hand ghost over my hair, like he was afraid to touch me.  Probably afraid I’d maul him again.  I cringed.

He said a word like he was cursing with it.

Ugh, why hadn’t I thought that he might already have someone else?  He was fuck-hawt, even for – maybe especially – (Hey, I’d seen a whole lot of aliens in the last couple of days and this guy was definitely taking home the prize, definitely) an alien.  Of course he'd be taken.

I groaned.  In mortification.  Apparently it sounded like pain to someone who wasn’t human.

“Angie!”  He grabbed me then and tried to pry my face up.  It wasn’t hard, he was about a thousand times stronger than I was and my neck muscles were no match for him.  I blinked and tried to meet his eyes.  Couldn’t.  But I could still read his expression loud and clear.  Great.  Now I’d really freaked him out.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Quii zeht lau kjanal?  Jwrit.”

I shrugged.  “Sure, probably, and since we have no idea what we’re saying to each other I’m just going to make my tone sound completely cool now, and I won’t bother asking you if you have two kids and an alien dog with an alien picket fence – you know, with your equally gorgeous, sweet, wonderful alien wife, who’s probably worried sick about you right now and she should know that you are faithful and turned me down even though I was practically mauling you a second ago.  Kudos on being a better alien mate than half the human population who can't even commit to a spouse.”

His forehead wrinkled.  Like really.  Then he squished me to his front.

“Oof.  Okay, big guy.”  I patted his arm.  Sorry I scared you.  I’m just having a moment.  No big deal.”

I was glad I didn’t have to meet his eyes anymore.  I was so ashamed.

And, I think he could tell.

He tried to pry my chin up again.  Nope.  Not this time.  I tucked it down hard and shook my head against his neck. It was his turn to laugh then – but it was a strained one.  Man, I’d fucked this all up.

That’s when I got really, really confused.

Arokh tentatively ran his hand up along my back.  Then down… and then he lifted the hem of my blouse so that his fingers skated over my bare skin.  Higher and higher, he worked his way up in circles, then fluttered along my side.  Not soothing.  Or should I say not just soothing.

It was turning my body on again.  And, still feeling ashamed, it was an odd combination.

I didn’t move.  When he pulled back, he said a word I had come to be pretty-fairly-almost-not-quite sure was the alien version of, “Okay?”

No.  No, I was so fucking confused.

Arokh sighed, and looked down.  Then he turned and started banging his horns against the wall – not hard, just enough to vent a little frustration I guess.

“Arokh!”

He stopped, then leaned in so close, our noses were nearly touching.  He said nothing else.  What was the point?

My stomach growled, and his face went hard.  He got up, picked me up, and carried me out.  I didn’t know where to, and I didn’t know what had just happened.  I heaved a breath and felt despair drop on me like a weighted blanket.  Unless we could come up with a way to get past our communication issues, I wasn’t likely to figure it out anytime soon either.

11

AROKH

I had embarrassed her.  She had been attempting me – a Rakhii! – and I’d turned her away.  Threw her gift back in her face!  When she couldn’t even stand to look at me, I’d scrambled to think of a way to explain.  It wasn’t that her advance was improper – after all, this what fledging Gryfala did.  Experiment.

With hobs.

Never Rakhii.

Not alone.  A Gryfala, with the entirety of her attention on a single male?  A Rakhii?

I gritted my teeth.  Never.  Never.

Never had I wanted anything more.

She was obviously old enough to have romantic impulses, (which made me feel relief about the attraction that I felt for her) all completely natural if she had hobs surrounding her.  I tried to explain that she would regret this, that if she had her hobs, she would never consider me.  And what if it spurred her instinct to nest?  She would regret trying to nest with me.  The only reason she was feeling compelled now, here, with me, was likely due to hormone fluctuations and confusion since she had no hobs.  Failing the ability to get this information across, the only way I could think to show her that her actions were fine, was to lightly reciprocate… but in the end, I had just confused her even more.  Mixed signals, although that hadn’t been my intention at all.  I’d wanted to stop her from making a mistake she would regret - not shame her.

Throughout the rest of the day, I desperately tried to coax smiles from her, pet her, comfort her.

But I’d damaged something that couldn’t be reached with touches.

Her confidence.

Tevek!  I wondered what sort of impact this would have on her future.  Let alone mine.

At one point, when I placed my hand on her cheek and she turned her face away – not spitefully, but humiliated… involuntarily, I snarled.

I was castigating myself so hard that it took a moment to register the absolute shock on Angie’s face.  And now, a little fear.

I dropped to my knees so that I could be closer to her eye level, ignoring the looks we got as the throng of people milled around us.  “I’ve made such a great mess of this,” I tried to explain.  I took her cold hands in mine.  “You did nothing wrong.  Nothing,” I emphasized.  I looked into her eyes, searching, watching her watch me just as intently, and hoped she could see the sincerity in my eyes if nothing else.

Maybe she did.  Because, hesitantly, she gave my fingers a squeeze.

I crushed her to me, so relieved to have even this little sign that the damage wasn’t irreparable.

I told myself I wouldn’t turn her away ever again.

As if she’d ever repeat what - to her - had been a confusing, embarrassing, unsatisfying situation.  I sighed into her hair.

And felt her tiny hand give a short, reassuring rub to my back.

Forgiven.

That bondstoned it.

There was no Gryfala kinder than mine.

That night, I was reluctant to rent a barn stall.  I was no fan of the cold myself - but Angie was completely intolerant of anything deeper than a chill.  And the stalls were only degrees warmer than the outdoors, of which the temperatures were bitterly arctic.  It made me worry.  I wondered if she was ill and that’s why her body couldn’t keep itself warm.

I licked behind her ear again, taking measure, and confirmed my suspicion; her internal heating was not operating properly.  She was several degrees cooler than she had been running.  And most worrisome?  She didn’t even attempt to bat my tongue away this time.

For now, we were staying thawed at a tavern.  I would keep her here until the tavern closed for the night.  The longer I could keep her warm, the better off she would be.  Firelight danced over her features.  I lay half reclined, with her soft, curvy self sprawled on top of me and I had our chair positioned as close to the flames as I felt she could safely be.  The heat was so intense that my scales were changing colors.  Yet she snuggled against me and fell deeply asleep; peaceful at last.

I nearly dropped her when my nose caught the smell of a hob.

My hearts actually stuttered.

My head reared back so hard my horns jabbed into the stuffing of the chair as my eyes frantically searched the crowd.  Carefully I let Angie slide slowly off my chest.  She didn’t stir.  Just collapsed, oozing to a boneless heap atop my thighs.  Trusting that I could keep her safe from all harm, all comers.

And there he was.

Staring back at me was a battle scarred, stooped-back guard.  He looked as shocked as I felt.  But it wasn’t just his presence that had me rattled.

It was this writhing, possessive feeling that had me in thrall.  It was thrashing at my control - urging me to attack, to defend, to keep him from taking my Angie from me.

My Angie?  What of my promises about temporary?  Of only claiming her as mine until she was with hobs?

REFUSE.  She was MINE.

The old hob shuffled to us, deceptively casual as he gripped a huge mug of frothy ale.  My instincts clamored; move her behind you to protect her!  Be on the offensive!  Attack him first!  I did my best to ignore all my impulses and stayed frozen in place.  The hob reached my side, and stared down at her blanketed form, her full mane the only part of her that was visible.

“Now I know I’ve actually seen everything.”

I said nothing.  Because I couldn’t speak.  My emotions were choking my throat.

He must have seen this plainly because his next words were gruffly reassuring.  “Relax.  I’m not about to pay to have a Comm sent out, hailing down a bunch of untried bachelors fresh from the academy.  What would I tell them?”  With a penetrating glance, he took in the sight of my arms - protectively holding, possessively tight - around her, my mouth firm, my eyes steady on his, and my scarred up horns telling their story of many past battles.  “That a Gryfala ran off with a gladiator?”  He snorted his disbelief of that last statement.

He shifted his weight, leaning on a cane.  “I’m surprised you risk being alone though.  Not even one hob?  But, they don’t train them like they used to.”  He winked.  “We both know those academy boys don’t know their ass from a pit in the sand.  And you’re a high ranker in the arena, aren’t you?  Even my old eyes can see the notches in your horns.  I’ll bet she’s doing just fine.”  He inhaled hard and closed his eyes a moment.  His smile was wistful.

“Ahhh,” he sighed.  “There is no better scent than a Gryfala.”

Secretly, I agreed - clearly something I would have to examine later.  Perhaps I’d not met enough female Rakhii.  Certainly never one that could rival my desire for Angie.

When I still kept my silence, he did the work of carrying on a conversation.

“You know what that smell means?”

I swallowed hard.  The thing attempting to stay my vocal chords now was my damned pride.  As reluctant as I felt, I desperately could use his extensive knowledge compared to my second-hand gossip.  My ignorance was damaging her.

The memory of that finally got me to speak.  “No.  I don’t.”

The man gave a creaky laugh.  “Boy, you are in for it.”  He grabbed his chest, wheezed.  “You better find a secure den soon, and a lot of food and water.  You’re both going to need it.”

Going to need… what?

Glancing down, I could see just the side of Angie’s face, turned away from the hob.  Her face scrunched and she squirmed, making me realize I was clutching her tighter than I’d meant to.  “Sorry,” I whispered, and adjusted her a little, relaxed my grip.  I petted her back to soothe her.  Doing so actually helped me calm myself.  To the man, I pitched my voice so that he could hear me, but I hopefully wouldn’t disturb her.  It probably helped in this case that she couldn’t understand me; she’d simply feel the rumble of my words through the connection of our bodies, and not be disturbed.  By now, her body was probably calibrating her to the vibration, a way for her species to take comfort from her males’ presence – although this was nearly exclusive to hobs, it had happened from time to time with a trusted, favored Rakhii guard.  With a jolt, I realized how very much I treasured the notion of that.

“Like I said.  Don’t worry, boy.  I know what it is to lose the female of your hearts.  I wouldn’t wish it on any male.”

For a hob to be standing alone and smelling of no female meant his had passed away.  Or – rarer - been killed.

“I will take her back,” I vowed, but even to my ears it sounded hollow and forced.

“How’s your tongue feel?”

Odd that he’d mention such a thing; it had been feeling strange.  I tested it on the roof of my mouth.

“I’m an old hob,” he gave me a gap toothed grin.  “I’ve seen it before.  Been a long time but,” he winked, “She’ll appreciate the change.”

“What are you talking about?”

He coughed into his free hand.  “Rakhii develop pleasure bumps for their princess.  If she claims them in her service.”

“Claims… Pleasure bumps?  On my…for my princess…”  On my tongue.

The man boomed with laughter at my dumbstruck expression.  I could feel my horns burn with an embarrassed flush.  “While she might not exactly agree… I’ve wondered if...”  Tevek.  I needed to just come out and ask.

“Is she too young?”  I gritted, resenting that I had to ask another male, a hob, about my female.

This brought another round of laughing.  “Trying to keep yourself chaste - and protect her innocence, if needed - and having a rough time?” he said with an evil sounding chuckle.

“Are they always so very – “ I tried to choose my words carefully, “Very precocious?”

He choked on his drink.  When he finished blotting the froth from his chin and chestplate, he smiled.  “Aye.  Always.”

Then his grin faded.  “But have a care.  Surely you’ve heard ‘why would she buy the bull if she can get the service for free’?”

I nodded.

Of course I’d heard this.  Rakhii were told young - just as hoblings were - that if they were very lucky, a Gryfala might pursue them someday.

But never, not ever under any circumstance was a male to give in before the Gryfala formed an attachment to him.  If she didn’t?

She’d move on.

And females were so possessively jealous and proprietary that they tended to avoid males that had been taken before by another.  Oh, they might dally with them on the side on occasion, but never consider them for permanent service.

It was a kindness of him to warn me.

But it was too late for me.

“How…”  My voice cracked, and I saw the hob’s lips twitch, but he didn’t tease me further.  I decided this might be my only opportunity to ask these questions, therefore, I attempted to work past my discomfort by keeping the discussion as clinical as I could.  “How do the males manage to abstain?  How long do they have to wait?”

“Lad, if she’s already that bad – or good,” he added with a playfully leering grin, “then you don’t have long to wait.”  He inhaled again, testing, and my quills raised a little in an unconscious threat display that had him snickering.  “It’s been a long, long time but it’s not something you forget.”

I imagined not.

“She smells ready.”  He shrugged.  “At most, she’s a solar or two from her Choosing.”

A solar?  Or two?  I’d hoped she was closer.  I’d never last.

That was, of course, if she ever recovered from her last overtures that I fumbled.

If she initiated again, I wouldn’t tell her no.

Couldn’t tell her no.

Almost literally.

When she wanted something?  I couldn’t rest until I gave it to her.  I wasn’t like the hobs, my genetic makeup didn’t – shouldn’t - compel me to fulfill my princess’ every request.  Yet I had these unexplainable yearnings.  One look from her and I wanted to give in to the urge to stroke her.  From her crown of fur to her silken toes, I wanted to lick her and pet her and creator help me - mount her until she was swollen with eggs.  Eggs I alone had fertilized.

Forbidden.

The muscles in my back tightened and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

The old hob laughed.  “She’s got you tied into knots.”

I could only nod.

“If you let me look at her, I can verify-“

My growl halted the rest of his words.  They stalled in his throat before he choked them out in a quiet chuckle.

He clapped me on the back congenially, then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.  “I gather that if she is testing you that hard-”

If he only knew what I’d done.

“-she is on the older end of the spectrum.  And in that case, I’ll let you in on a hob secret.”

He had my full attention.

His chin dipped.  “You can ease her.”

“Expound on that.”  I needed to be certain there was no misunderstanding.

He ran his bottom teeth over his top lip, eyes distant and fond as if in memory.  “Use your hand.  Help her use hers.  The most common way though is to let her ride you,” he smirked a little, “and start putting that tongue to use.  That above all else will get you in her good graces.  Many a Gryfala has taken a Rakhii into service after he impressed her with his considerable… oral skills.”

My mouth had gone completely dry.

Angie shifted, her hands tucking up closer to her chest, fingers curling against my thigh.  I tugged the blanket around her even tighter.  I began to gently work a tangle from her mane.  And seeing that, the hob’s countenance turned wistful.

“When did you lose her?”  I asked.

His eyes misted.  “This fall.”

I nodded.  “Your brother hobs?”

His chin puckered before he could control his grief.  “Gone.”

I took in his gaunt frame.  Despite the fact he was carting it around, he’d barely made a dent in his ale – the sparkling golden foam still near the brim - and he neither smelled of nor appeared to be carrying food.  His eyes were sunken, sad.

He wouldn’t be much longer for this world.

As he met my gaze, he smiled slightly, and I knew we both recognized that.

“Cherish her, gladiator.”

“I do.” I promised solemnly.

12

AROKH

Hours later, I carried a bundled Angie, who sleepily winced at the bite of frigid night air.  She hitched herself higher in my arms and pressed a very cold nose against my throat.  When I hissed, she mumbled, “Suhrry,” and pressed chilled lips to my skin as if in apology.

I shook my head.  I hated that all I could offer this female was a – mostly – clean box of shavings to sleep in.  It was freezing on this region of the planet and I couldn’t afford a room at the tavern.  Days ago, I would have been universally described as an honorable member of the Rakhii gladiator class.

I followed the law, I worked hard, carving my reputation up from the bottom ranks.

And I had never stolen in my life.

Now, I had rifled through the purses of dead men, men I had killed to keep this Gryfala safe.  I would do so again for her wellbeing, but each time I committed a crime I brought more risk to her safety as much as I added stains on my conscience.  But when she began to shiver in my arms, I contemplated new illegal acts I never would’ve considered before the current circumstances in my life: breaking into homes, backrooms, or closed taverns.  Picking pockets in order to scrape up enough to get us a room somewhere.  But these crimes would call attention.  Make us bigger targets.  And she was too big a prize.  Worth a fortune and so tempting, there was nowhere safe.  We had to reach the homeland.

She stirred when I jostled her as I attempted to wrench open the barn door.  I kissed the top of her head.  “Shhh.”  She made no complaint when I carried her to our stall.  I set her on her feet, kept ahold of her arm until I knew she was steady, and felt my hearts warm when she flashed me a sleepy smile.  Creator, she was so sweet.  This was a shithovel, but she was too much a lady to complain.  Well, much.  I suspected half her daily conversation - the growled parts (and somehow even more endearingly; the parts when she whined adorably and pitifully) - were lists of grievances she suffered.

She gave me the hand motion that meant she had to relieve herself.  She beamed at me when I handed her filched napkins from the tavern.  I was both thrilled by her expressing appreciation, and conversely shamed that this was the best gift I could afford to give her.  Stolen bar napkins.  I dutifully faced the other direction and waited, my thoughts heavy.

“Aww, craaap!”

It was said softly, but low and so vehemently that I turned to check on her.  This was the wrong thing to do, and she let me know that by way of indignant screech.  I whirled, about to apologize.  But then I caught it.  The smell of blood.

Three things became apparent.

This explained her drop in body temperature.  And the incredible smell I’d been taking in had been her prime breeding time.  At least I thought that’s how Gryfala cycles went.  No wonder I’d been driven half mad with it.  (Also disquieting, because her scent was no less attractive now – how and when did hobs catch a break?)  But I tried to refamiliarize myself with the little biology I knew and concluded that her body must now be shedding itself because her eggs had not been fertilized?

And at that thought, I breathed a sigh of relief.  Thank the creator, she wasn’t gravid.  Although I’d felt fairly confident that the aliens hadn’t succeeded in seeding her… I hadn’t realized until this moment that a part of me had still been harboring worry.

She was dismayed - not shocked - at the sight of her blood.  Therefore, despite being entirely conjecture, true; I was going to conclude that she’d had (at least one) bleeding prior to this, and I held onto this hope as yet further proof of her age approaching full maturity.  Although I’d heard of it happening to a Gryfala as young as six solars, I knew that was more an outlier, and this Gryfala was older than six, of that much I was sure.

And lastly, I had no supplies for her to care for herself.  Her kind used some sort of cup or something.  Where would I even find the like?  And her size… I shook my head.  Task at hand.  I quickly tugged out the rest of the napkins I’d stashed in my pockets and cautiously - gaze away to respect her insistence for a semblance of privacy - turned back to her and held them out.  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her press one between her legs.  Then she shimmied and rubbed her thighs a bit.

Testing.

Realization dawned for me; she had no garment to hold them up.  I might have limited knowledge of Gryfala, but I did have one sister and the vaguest idea of what was needed for this to work, and I could assume all females’ attire was similar.  I sighed.  Angie needed better than I could provide, and she needed it fast.

When she was as ready as she could be, I took my turn using the corner of the stall and by the time I got back to her she was shivering so hard her teeth were clacking together.  I wrapped her up and brought armfuls of shavings over us.  She sneezed.

“Blessings.” I said on reflex and mounded more shavings.

She sneezed again.  And again.

I froze.  Was she developing an allergy to our main source of insulation against the deadly chill?  Or was this an imminent symptom of some sort of sickness that she’d caught in the germfilled auction streets?  “Tevek!”

“Theengs just are-ent go-eng eazy, are they?” she murmured to me with a sad smile.

Worried for her, I licked her nose.

“Ewwww, yick!” she screeched.  “Whuthe-!”

I licked her nose again.

“Sthop thaaaht!” she all but shouted.  Her hand clapped over the bridge of my nose, stalling me.  But she didn’t sneeze.

“It is working.” I told her, trying not to be smug.

I was fairly certain she might have understood me, because she gave me this half incredulous, half disgusted look.

Then she burst into laughter.  “Yur crayzee!”

Although her teeth stopped chattering, from time to time she’d still shiver, and her skin was barely warm.  I feared her freezing to death right here in my arms this night.  I had to admit; I wasn’t much better off.  I wished desperately that I bore a pelt to keep the both of us warm in.  My scales warmed fine with a source of sunlight ...which we happened to be fresh out of at the moment.  I could start a fire …if we wanted to lie on the ground, out in the open where anyone could overtake us without warning and all the while with the wind biting at us.

We couldn’t wait any longer.  This situation was too dire, we were too desperate.  Unless or until my brothers returned for us with a shuttle, I resolved to earn the funds for a ship.  Or at least passage on a flight home if we couldn’t afford a whole ship.  Somehow.  I could fight - I was only lacking a ring, a crowd, and an opponent.  I’d always had an agent that dealt with most of the business side of setup.  They knew all the contacts, knew who and how to deal; it was just how the industry worked.  If I managed to find an agent, get a match - where could I stow Angie while I fought?

What if I lost?

No!  I couldn’t think of that.  I had to win.  I had to get us home.  To her home.  I knew I couldn’t take her to my humble little ground dwelling.

Although, I mused as I rubbed her barren wing spots, it wasn’t like she could glide about the highcliffs of her land either.  Her life couldn’t have been easy.  Hobs might be solicitous of every female but Gryfalas weren’t known for their altruism to other Gryfala.  In fact, just the opposite.  Their competitive drive towards each other was legendary.  Anything that made them ‘less’ put them at at instant disadvantage.  Her kind were aggressively ambitious.  It was blamed on instinct.  Keep rivals away at all costs - if there had ever been enough Gryfala to create competition.  As if a hob could be tempted away from his female – it was so ludicrous it was laughable.  Hobs outnumbered Gryfala by hundreds.  They would never risk endangering their position; a Gryfala would never take the hob back that dared to stray, and if another had managed to tempt him, how long would her interest really last with a new toy after she’d won?  I sneered.  Gryfala were pampered, privileged, spoiled.

At that thought, I hugged my Angie tighter.  She wasn’t cruel.  And pampered?  Privileged?  She was as far from a Gryfala’s due as could be.  What a shock this all must be for her.

Feeling deep empathy, I dragged my temple slowly across her cheek.

In fact, she was incredibly resilient considering all that had happened to her, and what she must have been used to before she was taken.  And as for her wingless state; I did not consider my princess deformed.  Not like the other Gryfala surely would.

But my Angie?  She was absolutely perfect.  I inhaled her scent to comfort myself.

Nuzzled her crownfur.  And although I had never seen the appeal of her kind before, I was fully aware now.  It made sense.  Otherwise hobs would go looking for other species in their desperation to claim a female, any female, due to their kind being so rare.  But the allure of my Angie… I knew in my hearts I was irrevocably in this Gryfala’s service.

Whether she ever extended an official declaration ceremony to me or not.

She was mine.

No!

I was hers.

I could be appeased with that thought.

I had to be.

13

AROKH

Suns passed.  It became apparent that this part of the world was not flush with gladiator rings like the planets I was used to touring, therefore, I’d yet to track down someone to represent me in a fight.  I resorted to gathering wagers on arm wrestling matches, keeping Angie gripped tightly and safely on my lap.  Every damned male wanted to wager for her.  Ridiculous.  As if I’d ever leave her safety to a game of chance.  Nothing came close to her worth.  I almost laughed in the first male’s face.  It was incredibly less and less humorous each time it happened though, and I felt the threat like acid on my scales.  I was only one male after all.  To protect her I needed the focus off of her and onto the game.

I took to covering her in the blanket, even being careful to tuck in her crownfur so she was less available for their ogling.  She sensed my tension, and always stayed still.  And quiet.  I missed the sound of her musical voice.  I had to take her aside and pet her and tell her not to be afraid, because I could smell it through the blanket and I noticed whenever the others were starting to also.  She may not have understood my words, but she did relax enough that I returned to the table and commenced with the match.  Each time I was wrestling, she would grip onto my tensed body as I threw everything I had into pinning my opponent.  I could not lose.  I feared the winner would demand more than just the money owed.  I knew in my hearts that’s what would happen.  And if I had measured them up wrong and couldn’t best them in an arm tussle?  I would never win in a fight against them and their companions if they challenged me for Angie.

Match won, we’d gather the winning purse and swiftly exit out the kitchen door of the alehall or tavern.  I was taking no chances that we’d be jumped leaving from the front.  We hopped establishments, me carrying her so we could make the next destination swiftly, and, Creator willing – were not followed.  We won enough that I could afford to care for her bleeding needs until they were done, and eventually there was enough winnings for a night at an inn with hot water for her to bathe.  No bathing tub; just a slightly rusted bucket and a rag, but Angie made noises like it was heaven in a pail.  When we were done cleaning up, I could wait no longer; I dragged her to the bed.

I’d done an admirable job controlling myself while she was bathing, but I knew just the fact that I had to wrestle myself at all was not exactly a healthy sign.

She had scrubbed herself nearly a different color; cleaned off all the grime from days of travel, washed off dirt, and sweat…

And me.

She smelled like fake flowers and imitation sunshine and whatever other things they manufactured into soap…

Not like me.

She didn’t carry my scent at all now.

It was like she was a brightly painted canvas that had no signature in the corner, it was like she was waiting for the male that would stake a claim - right now, she had no barrier to give a male pause; there was no hint that she belonged to any male at all.

Not to me.

And it triggered a terrible urge in me.

I couldn’t stifle it any longer.  I held her down and licked her.

At first, she squealed, and bucked, and shrieked - then she pulled my ears, she used her fists on my shoulders, and chest - but it was when she grabbed my horns that I completely lost my mind.

Snarling, my fingers digging hard into soft flesh - yet ever mindful to keep my claws from pricking - I dragged my tongue over her harder - sweeping, steady laps from her forehead down to her throat.  And when her clothing got in the way?  I nudged my nose under it, reaching all the skin I could, and when satisfied, I moved to lick along the part of her belly that was now exposed - spending extra time on that odd scar she had there - it was like a hole into her stomach, and it disturbed me to think of what could cause such a wound.  As she tried to curl up, she wheezed a laugh, seemingly involuntary, and I used my mouth to show her she was beautiful despite this.  In fact, the longer I spent there, the more it started to look sort of… cute.  I rubbed my temple over the spot to further scent mark her.  The substance my scales released there would cling more firmly than even my saliva, after all.

When I reached the band of her skirt though, I hesitated.

She froze.

I made a split click decision and jerked up one of her legs.  I quickly learned that I needed to cup her feet in my hand in order to stop her from connecting when she kicked at me - but by the time I licked her from her toes down to the knee of her first leg, her initial indignation over scent marking had changed to writhing…

And what sounded like… begging.

She was no longer trying to pry me off, or kick at me.

Instead, she was repeating the only word that would mean anything to me in this moment.

“Arokh!”

There were other words too.  They seemed to me to be encouraging.

I finished with her other leg, also stopping at the knee, before carefully setting it back on the bed.

She didn’t move.

Still positioned half off to her side, I turned to fully face her.

Truthfully, what had started as a shameful compulsion had morphed into a desperate need.

I wasn’t good at this submissive persona.  I wanted to take my female the Rakhii way.

But she wasn’t Rakhii.

And I had to let her lead.  I knew this.

Commanding willpower that I wasn’t sure I still possessed I sank down beside her in the bed.  I buried my nose in her hair, languidly making my way to her neck where her scent was sweetest; Angie, wearing me.

I threw my arm around her, starting to roll her ontop me, thinking I’d angle my horns over the side of the bed.

But she grabbed onto me, “No!  Dohn’t Stohp noww.”

She tugged me, and although her movements were ineffective for repositioning my considerable mass, her nudges let me know she wanted me over her.

And the thought of covering her this way excited me.

I had vowed to follow her commanding of me if she ever made another overture.

Here was my chance to redeem myself.

And oh, how I wanted to be redeemed.

Yet, I wasn’t sure how I could do this without flattening her.  I braced my hands on either side of her… but then I wouldn’t be able to pet her.

This was terrible.  I sat back on my knees to the sound of her frustrated groan.

I rubbed my thumb over her lower lip.  “Your lack of patience would be deplorable if you weren’t a Gryfala.”  One side of my mouth curled up as I teased her.

Her eyes narrowed.  And then she nipped my thumb.

I sucked in a breath, then with the hand wrapped around her thigh, I yanked.

Her body slid to me, the backs of her thighs bumping over the tops of mine.

The hob’s advice replayed in my head.  Though I hadn’t done this before, I had an idea of what my goal was.  And a fairly imaginative plan for how to achieve it.  I dipped my head and bent down, down down…

…down

…and my horn bounced off of something.  My head came up only to see her hands blocking her face.  I could have stabbed her!  To say that I’d have to be more careful was an understatement.  I tried to swallow a snarl of frustration.  I could move to her side like I’d been when I marked her, but then I wouldn’t be able to see her face.  I wanted - I needed - to watch her reactions.  As I looked down at her, her thighs spread enough to tantalize, I felt pressure on a horn and looked to see that she’d wrapped her hand around one.  She gave me an encouraging smile.  My mind flashed back to our first night together, when she’d been standing.

I gave an excited call, which made her jump.  I stroked her leg quickly to reassure her before grabbing her hips and lifting her up.  She let me set her to standing, and I dropped to my knees beside the bed before reaching up and setting her hands on my horns.  Then I patted my shoulder.

Her lips parted before she grinned.

When her leg slid into place, I inhaled deeply and growled, which made her give a startled laugh.  When I stretched my tongue to lap at her, out of my peripheral I saw the skin on her stomach flutter.  The corners of my mouth curled up as I felt the stretch in my throat, reaching, dragging my tongue slowly until it hit her clit and she moaned.

I’d never felt one before.  Certainly never tasted a female.  I had read a little, heard Rakhii talk.  But I didn’t expect her to feel like… sort of like the ripest, most succulent fruit – I held one of her lips between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, pressing it, laving it.  And the taste.  She was the most delectable fruit ever created.  I moved so I could get more of her, so I could feel more of her in my mouth, against my lips.  Soft, so soft, and I had to fight the urge to bite down on her flesh here.  The feel of her against my lips as I sucked – Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrwl.  My grip on her hips went tighter.

My tongue felt so strange.  It had been doing this off and on for days, but now… the next drag of my tongue over her softness revealed why, reminded me of the conversation with the Hob.  Ahhh.  Nice.

I rolled my eyes upward and felt a spear of pleasure when our gazes connected - hers rapturous.

In response to what I could do for her.

Me.

No other male.

“Yore tohngue – ahhhh!”  She moaned and almost melted on top of me.

“Sweehearts, I know,” I murmured before going back for another slow lap, feeling the bumps press and caress her skin, increasing the sensations nearly to the point of overload, apparently for both of us.

A yank on my horns had the bridge of my nose bumping into her mound.  She gave a high keening moan.  Another yank.  I pulled back, panting.

“Arokh!  Nowww.”  She tried to slide her leg off but I slid my hand to cup under her thigh and shoved it back.  My throat vibrated with my growl as I locked eyes with her, and moved my mouth back between her legs, where she tasted the sweetest.

She huffed.  “Fiiine, fiiiiiine.” She grumbled a little more before conceding and bracing on my horns again.  “But- I-neeeed-I’m gohing to…”  she rocked then, her clit brushing over my nose.  Then again.  Again.

Oh.  I was beginning to realize what exactly she needed now.  I wish I had paid more attention when I had the materials at hand to learn what a Gryfala would like.  But I needed to pay attention now, and she could teach me.

I moved so that my tongue was hovering over her clit.  I added pressure, pressing it hard against her and she almost fell on my face.

“Yesssssss, like that!”

She began to move her hips, circling, finding a pattern that felt good to her, a rhythm, and instead of feasting on her I just let her take from me.  Whatever she needed, I wanted to give to her.

My hands roved along her hip.  The curve of her rump.  I squeezed one plump cheek and grinned as she squeaked and pumped her hips harder, until I felt wetness at my chin and her body ground down against my mouth.

The taste flooding over my tongue now!  Even sweeter.  Tangier.  Without thinking, I grabbed her by the hips and flung her backward.

Breathing ragged, she looked stunned as I lunged over her on the bed.  And I realized how rough I’d just been.  I began to sit back on my haunches, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be-“

Her hands shot out, grabbing my ears, the long pointed tips crushed flat in her fists.  “Dohn’t stohp!”

I looked into her eyes, and took in her expression, then quickly assessed her body language.  Carefully, I laid my hand between her legs where I’d just found my new very favorite flavor.  Of all my lifespan.

“Yes?” I asked, wanting to make certain.

“Zrekkk,” she tried to repeat, her attempt in my language commendable, her lips pulling back and she attempted to imitate the click.

I grinned down at her.

She yanked my ears.  “Nowww!”

“At your service, princess,” I breathed and I followed where she tugged until she was tasting herself from my lips.  Until she was moaning into my mouth.

I felt her knees at my sides.  One leg folded over my hip, then her other, and she was squeezing, pressing, forcing – more insistent than earlier - using her heels on either side of my tail to guide my hips to hers.

“Afraid tew squeesh mee?” she panted.

I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I knew what she wanted.

And I wanted it too.

Was this wrong?  She didn’t seem to think so.  I was no fool.  My princess gave me an order.

I took one hand off of the bed, balancing my weight on the other as I ripped at my suit.  She let me pull back so that I could look down at our bodies.

I swallowed hard.  Struggled for control.  My cock was so hard it was painful and I was trying – unsuccessfully - to battle my sudden fear that I would not be able to service her for long enough.

“Holeeee shiiiiit,” she breathed.

I squeezed my cock, thinking, just last long enough to make this good for her.  Now did I just shove inside of her?  The thought made me groan.

“Herrre,” she whispered, and her legs dropped as she sat up, then scooted her hips closer to mine, her thighs spreading open even wider.  So that I could see all of her, even plumper, even duskier than before.

She carefully planted her heels and moved up so that her rump was resting on the backs of my thighs.  My toes dug into the mattress as I balanced my buttocks on my heels, and drug her hips higher, higher…

When the head of my cock slid along her heat, I snarled.  I wanted to grab her by the throat – to keep her, to kiss her – to share this feeling, this excitement, this joy, this fear with her.

But I couldn’t look away from our near connection.

The crown of my cock looked huge as it snugged into a slick dip and instinctively, I did shove my hips forward.

And surged inside her warmth for the first time.

I called – the sudden burst of sound making her startled hands fly to my shoulders.

I had a heartsbeats to notice the line of her throat as she threw her head back with a gasp at my entry.

I gripped onto her rump and yanked her onto me.

I called her name and when she was looking into my eyes again I ducked my head so that I could reach her mouth now.  And I kissed her and kissed her as I tugged her hips up, then jerked her back onto me.  Again.  Faster.

She began to pump her legs to match.  Glorious.

She began to moan.  Tevek!  It was a beautiful sound.  Higher now, higher as I moved her faster.  My spine tightened, I felt a tingle of electric elation inside of me and I grunted with my efforts to-

She gripped the base of one of my horns and I exploded.

My vision went starburst.

When I came to my senses I was on top of her, panting like I’d run for hours, and only her fingers wrapped around my arms were outside of me.  I was completely smothering her.  I tried to jerk back, to pull off her, but my body was slow to respond.  My reflexes downright sluggish.

I was internally horrified, but I couldn’t put it into words for her.  I could barely function.  She had fucked me senseless.

And I hadn’t even finished her properly.

Now I was really horrified.

What exactly had I managed to withstand?  Six, seven thrusts?  I was appalled.

When I looked down into her face though, she was grinning.

“Dohnt werrry beeg guy.  Yull nehvar ehnjoy practeecing teel perrfict muhr than doohing theese.  Promeese.”

I grunted and, still trying to catch my breath, dropped my forehead against hers.

“Owwch,” she whined, and I reared up with a groan and began to kiss her face.

“Mmm, I knowww how you can make it up to mee,” her smile was playful, but her hand was still pressed to her head.

But with her other hand, she grabbed my horn and gently guided me back, and down, down, down her body…

My eyes widened, and now a grin comes over my face.

Yes.  Yes, I can make her forget the hurt.

We stayed in that room for three days.  I meant to be on the move.  I mean to get us off this planet.  But I couldn’t make myself leave her body long enough to accomplish anything more than bring her sustenance.

The innkeeper came into our room on the second day.  But one sniff of that telltale bonding scent, something everyone seems to have heard of even if they’ve never even seen a Rakhii, let alone smelled one that’s bonded - and her eyes couldn’t have gotten any bigger.  She dropped our breakfast tray and nearly wept when the doorknob stuck.  Then she fled and we didn’t see her until I paid our tab.

It’s stronger.

The urge to kill other males.  It transcends territoriality over my female; it’s a pervasive, roiling monster inside of me that considers every leering glance a threat, and perceives every approach as an act of outright aggression.

And my body responds accordingly.

My muscles have gotten even bigger.  A snarl is always about my lips.  Suddenly no one will take me on in a simple arm wrestling match.  They don’t dare to.

Because they can see it.  Smell it.  They know.

As do I.

And then we start to get these odd stares.  Knowing stares.  As if people were warned about us.  Are on the lookout for us.

As much as I want to believe it is because of my brothers asking around about us, I’d think they’d be able to leave me some clue or some word – with someone, somehow.  It just… it just feels different than that.  Threatening.

Like we are being hunted.

Since the opportunity for wrestling income has suddenly dried up, I am back to looking to bigger opportunities.  Riskier.  Because males love to watch a good fight.  And they love to watch Rakhii.  We are notoriously strong, brutal.

But a bonded Rakhii?  I’m not going to use it as a selling point, but I wonder if the agent will.  I just need to secure one.  At this point, we need money.  I need to try to hold off my worry over how I will manage to keep Angie safe.  Keep her safe while I’m in the middle of the ring.

Distracted.  In the middle of a fight.

And if she is threatened?

But it isn’t an if - and I know it.

I’m beside myself with frustration, and concern for her wellbeing.

And my agent wasn’t paid enough.  Attempting to secure a fight has been exhausting, thankless, fruitless work.

And not only is Angie in constant danger - everyone around her is too.

Because I will kill them.

I growled at what I’d hoped had been a viable patron, making him scramble off his stool and scuttle away.  Tevek!  But right before he’d stared too long at Angie, he had given me another lead.  I lifted Angie off of my lap and held her arms until she was steady on her feet; she’d been half asleep on me while I attempted to drum up this match.

She blinked up at me with a hesitant smile.  I sighed and shook my head at her.  She may not know what my purpose is, but she can understand I am desperately searching for something, and not finding what we need.  She strokes my chest and murmurs soothingly to me in her pretty way.

And it’s like all the rage in my body is encased in warmth, and light, and the soft, sweet sound of her voice.  My lids lower halfway, and my chin drops on top of her head.

I am nearly purring now.

That is, until movement makes my body go taut.  Eyes.  Eyes all around us, and I don’t think it’s paranoia brought on by my bond to my female.  I believe this bond gives me a new perception, this sort of new sense.

And it tells me we need to flee.  Now.

I have the name I need anyway.  I take her hand and stare everyone down as we swiftly exit onto the street.  I feel better when we enter the thoroughfare of yet another market.  With one ear, I listen to the growing list of grumbles my Angie is making.  My other ear is pricked and flicking, picking up alarming words in the tongues that I can recognize.  Rakhii.  Gryfala.  Stolen.  Bonded.

Their other words are drowned out, falling through my translator's abilities without an upgrade.  An upgrade!  I snort.  If we had a way for me to obtain that, I’d be outfitting Angie properly.  We could finally communicate.  Oh, to be able to speak to her!  We pass a pet tent, with all manner of little household critters for sale, and all the over-priced supplies and gadgets new owners could be duped into buying right along with them.

A thought strikes me and I wheel us around to give the pet tent a closer examination.

“Perfect,” I breathe as I pull the hand tooled smartcollar from a peg.  I looked down, finding her in what had become her default setting out of necessity: gripping my belt loop and fairly plastered to my side.  I didn’t mind her closeness in the least.  I knew for a fact that I already needed it.  I smiled at her, she returned the gesture with a bright, puzzled expression – but then she narrowed her eyes and balked when I brought the collar to her throat.

My hearts sped up.  “You recognize this.  Have you been forced to wear one?  Did they use one of these on you before?”  Anger bled into my system at the thought.  I took a deep breath.  One thing at a time.  I held up a palm.  “I meant no insult.”  When her eyes stayed narrowed and glued to the collar, I tapped her on the chin so that she would meet my gaze instead.  “Look.  This is the best I can do for now.”

Her face set in a mulish expression of disapproval, but she held still while I adjusted the collar to its smallest setting.  It hung on her tiny neck, the throat prongs not even close to touching her skin.  It wasn’t ideal, but she could pull the collar up and hold it to her throat every time she wanted to speak.  But then I realized the flaw I’d missed in my excitement: just how was she supposed to understand me?  Stupid.  I sighed.

“Try this.”  The petshop owner was suddenly at my elbow, holding a scruffy vaardsi that barely looked to be weaning age.  My brows furrowed.  He waved his other hand, then opened his palm to reveal a tiny spiked disc.

“Is that—“

“They are very popular for the auction item that doesn’t share her owner’s speech, yes?”

I glowered at his choice of words.  “Will this let the item speak as well as listen?”

He nodded.  “All three major languages of the capitol and it is programed to understand all outlander tongues too.”

“All?  Really?”  I scoffed as I plucked the chip out of his hand.  “How much?”

After he positively gouged me in the last of our coin, I moved my female to the back side of the tent for some privacy.  She looked at me in question.

I gathered her tightly to my chest, and grimaced.  “I’m sorry, sweetness.”

14

ANGIE

I was concentrating so firmly on his lips pressed sweetly to my forehead that I didn’t fight it when his fingers touched behind my ear.  That is, until, it began to hurt.  “Ow! Ow! Ouch!” I jerked, knocking my skull into his rock-hard chin.  I twisted and instinctively brought my shoulder up trying to squash the burning sensation that streaked lighting jolts right into my brain.  I reached up to rub at it, but he stalled my hand just as my fingers brushed over the little metal thing he’d just paid for.  “For future reference, buddy; earrings go into earlobes – not behind them - and they don’t feel like someone’s jabbing an ice-pick into their grey matter,” I seethed.

“It’s only for a moment,” he said.

“Easy for you to say!  You bloody bast-“ I broke off.  “Hey!  I got that!  I totally know what you said!”  I bounced back to look at him and I gave a shriek of pure relief.  “Finally!  Oh, thank God.”  I grabbed my chest and sagged in relief.  “I’ll never take communication for granted again.”

His smile was blinding.  “Grace be to the Creator.  I was afraid I’d have to resort to shadow puppets to get my meanings across.”

I laughed.  I even got a joke!

Pointing to my ear, he raised his brows.  “Forgiven?”

I gave a haughty nod.  Then I grinned in relief.  “It’s like Charlotte’s Web.  ‘I can talk-talk-talk!’” I half-sang.  His brows scrunched up, but then he shook his head and chuckled.  “You have been taught strange phrases - a stranger’s language, too.  But it is good we can speak now.  Come, sweetness.  There is much to do.”

And his ‘much to do’ was much the same as we’d been doing all morning.  Arokh was searching for a someone.  And between the times when he interacted with others, and he kept me as unobtrusively plastered to his side as he could manage - we talked.  We talked a ton.  We talked enough to almost make up for all the days we’d spent together when we couldn’t understand each other.

All in all the chip-stabbing helped out bunches, but it wasn’t perfect.  I’d say a word and it dropped right out off my tongue in my language instead - no translation for it, apparently.  Then the rest of the sentence would come out feeling very odd in my mouth and throat (I could click like a wizard now, woohoo!) and he understood me and even I understood me.

Ahh, technology.  It was a beautiful thing.  But, I still had to piss in a bush, because FML.

Another cool thing?  I now understood other aliens too.  Well, most of them.  Arokh said his translator was programmed with many – but not all – languages, but there were some he had only partial downloads for – therefore, he had some roadblocks with understanding a few.

I could now fill in the blanks.  Better, anyway.  Some words, especially from Arokh’s side of a conversation, had no translation in any language.  Like tevek.  It seemed to be used the same ways I-the-earthling would say fuck – but it just came out tevek in my ear; not fuck.  So, words dropped from his tongue too, even if I thought I knew what they’d pretty much match in mine.

“Now that we’ve caught up a bit, let’s get to the most important question: when do we get out of here?  How?  And do you know what happened to the other women?”  My throat did that thing when you say your words too fast and your mouth gets the signals for “swallow” and “speak” confused so that you just end up sort of choking.

Arokh gave me a concerned look.  “Gryfala?  The others?”

“Gryfala…”  My brain told me this was a female with… I shook my head.  “Translation errors, I think.”

He stopped us and tucked us out of traffic in order to search my face.  “I thought I smelled more females when you showed me that ring the morning after your auction.  I…” He growled with frustration.  “I hoped I’d been wrong.  There were so many scents layered that I- how did they capture them all?”  His eyes focused on me, intense, and tortured.  “How did they capture you, my Angie?”

Aww, wasn’t he sweet.  I liked how even his words were as adorably possessive as his actions.  I shook my head and my shoulders nearly met my ears when I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Trust me – I’ve tried, but I don’t remember a thing.  I just… woke up and… there was no coffee, and...”  My voice trailed off as I remembered waking up in that pen.  And then after I was snagged out of the pen and the bidders scrambled over others to collect me…

I shuddered.

Arokh rumbled low in displeasure before crushing me to his chest.  “Think no more on it now, princess.”

I nodded and breathed him in.  Despite not having anything nicer than a washcloth and some questionable liquid to scrub up with, he smelled utterly divine.  I’m not sure I could say the same for myself.  I tried to self-sniff.

Ick.

Arokh had pulled back enough to watch me do this, and I knew his expressions well enough now that I was pretty sure he thought I was odd– but he liked me anyway.  I bumped him affectionately with my shoulder – and because he was a friggin’ giant, that meant I made contact, oh, somewhere around his ribs.

“You’re my Knight in Shining… Spacesuit… Armor,” I told him.  “Saving this Princess.”

He smiled at me.  At least, he tried to flash a smile at me – right before he whirled, snarling, and sent some aliens scrambling away.  When he turned back, I decided some light, inane conversation might cool him down.  My alien had turned seriously moody since we left our little hotel.

I think he missed not walking.

Or maybe he missed napping.

Or maybe he missed fucking.

I sighed.  I missed all those things too.  And the bucket and rag to wash with.  I think I missed that more than the bed.  Okay, they were tied.  And if I didn’t stop thinking of them, I was going to start crying, because Arokh had already told me we couldn’t afford another hotel stay unless he found who he was looking for.

Time to distract us both.  “You know, your word for princess seems to mean the same thing for your people as my people.”

His brows furrowed.  “Of course.”

“An endearment-“

“Your title,” he corrected.

I shrugged a little absentmindedly.  “Uh huh.”  #TranslationIssues would be my new hashtag.  If I ever got home to use a hashtag again.  “Are you a knight?”

I was keeping it all light and maybe a little teasing, but he seemed to be growing more agitated with every word out of my mouth.  Worried.  And his manner had grown serious when he answered.  “I am a gladiator, and travel far for the games.”

“A gladiator.  A fighter?  We had those, a long time ago,” I shared.

His head tilted and his mouth parted, but he closed it instead of speaking.  I filled the silence.  “I felt bad that we couldn’t rescue anyone else from those cages.  That was horrible,” I said, and I felt my heart plummet as I spoke the words, spoke the thought that had been plaguing me no matter how far we walked from the auctions.  “Except for that one.”

“My sister.”

I’d labeled her as family when I’d seen the way they’d interacted. But still.  “How did she end up in an auction?”

“She was taken when she went offplanet to watch one of our brother’s matches.  It is why females rarely leave the planet.”  I could tell he was wondering how I’d been snagged.  You and me both, buddy.

“It is so good that you got her back!  But… why couldn’t you let the others go?  There are so many-“

His fingers were suddenly holding my chin.  “I want to.  You think I do not?”  His eyes were sad, haunted.  “I would never succeed.”

“But some would escape!  Like we did!”

With his other hand, he took one of mine.  “It is legal here.  To sell.  To buy.  Once they get here, anything goes.”  His head jerked sharply, cutting off what I was about to say.  “No, I don’t agree with it either - but I am just one male.  I cannot save all the females.  And what of the males bought for the same thing?  Should I try to free them all?  Even if I wasn’t set upon and killed before I could finish – and I promise you, if I stayed at the pens releasing auction chattel they would catch me – then what do you think would happen when the next ship touches down with a full cargo bay?”  He shook his head, quills rising in frustration.  “They get new cargo in every few clicks.  This is a mass auction planet.  Many planets shunt prisoners here to dispose of them.  Some people enter themselves to escape from worse fates at their home.”

He took a deep breath.  And I realized that I was breathing hard too.  I squeezed his fingers.  One side of his mouth tipped up.  But that little show of softness disappeared as fast as it came and he was speaking again.  “You could obliterate this planet, and they would just open up auctions somewhere else.  If there is someone with money and a need, there will always be someone else to capitalize on the opportunity.  The best we can do is outlaw it in our own country.  That is in our control.  However.”  His eyes lasered into mine – but not in a harsh way.  He just wanted me to understand.  “It is impossible to stop the rest of the entire galaxy from trading and selling flesh.”

Then both his hands were cupping my face.  He was so tall, so big, so strong – but his touch on my skin was featherlight in pressure.  His gaze pleaded with me to understand.  His tone was low, his voice so earnest.  “I can’t save them all.  But I could save you.”

My fingers crept as far as I could reach them around his forearms.  “Then… why me?  I mean – I am so glad!  Dude.  You saved me in the nick of time… but… why-“

His eyes turned tender as he looked down at me.  “While I would not want to leave any female to the happenings of an after-auction-sale, I cannot bring down this whole place,” he gestured to the ground.  “But your cries - they called to me.  And when I saw that you were a princess?  I had to save you.”

“You saved me because I’m …a princess?”

15

AROKH

I gave her a look.  “Is that a question?”  I snorted.  “Of course.”

“Oookay.”  She took a breath, her eyes wide as she gazed around for a moment.  Then she turned to me.  “Thank you for saving me and you bet your ass, I’m a princess.”  She whooshed out a breath before sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you are honor bound or whatever to save one of my… rank.  Do you think you can find the other… princesses?”

I felt my face darken in a scowl.  “I will search but I fear buyers took their auction treasure and flew away from this rock as fast as they could.  They know that the hobs will come down on them with vengeance should they be caught.”  I shook my head.  “It is impossible that they managed to get one of you let alone—“ I took a breath to tamp down the anger that was burning inside my chest.  I curled my lip and shook my horns sharply.  “Stealing, selling,” – my throat tried to close, but I forced the word – “raping… they will pay.  And they will pay dearly.  Their descendants, if they are left any, will speak of the retribution for generations to come.”

“Sounds good to me.” She said in a hard tone.  I brushed my knuckles along her jaw.  The emotion on her face bled to a more tender one.  Her hand came up to hesitantly cover mine.  I smiled at her before pulling away.  As much as I wished we could continue our touches, and those looks of hers… I made a low groan that had her quirking a brow.  But I looked around, noting the attention.  Too much attention.

I growled in agitation.

But then I spotted something.  A GMS tent.  I felt my gaze sharpen, words coming into focus… Sales… and repairs.  I heaved a sigh of relief.  My family would guess that something had happened to prevent me from messaging, but they wouldn’t panic.  Yet.  But just as I knew that, I also knew they were on their way or already here; I just needed to find out when and where to meet them.  And get us home.

“How did you get here if you don’t have a ship of your own?”

I looked down at her before sliding my hand to cover hers as she held fast to one of my beltloops.  “A friend dropped me off after my last match, when I found out my sister had been taken.  The brother you met?”  I glanced down again and she nodded.  “He was on his way as soon as he could procure a ship.  All of my brothers split up to cover different quadrants of this planet.”

“Planet.  You said that before.”

I glanced down at her again.

“This is a whole planet of just auctions?  A whole planet?  Like the size of Earth?”

My ears snapped against my neck sharply.  “Earth?”

The look of fear flashed so fast across her face that I almost thought I had misunderstood the expression.  But then she deflected.

“Where are we going now?  You looked like you saw something you recognized.”

I wasn’t sure if I should press her for answers, here, now, or never.  I narrowed my eyes as I responded.  “A GMS Tent.”

“GMS?”  She dragged the clicks out, enunciating, like she wasn’t certain she’d heard me correctly.

I nodded once, my ears relaxing.  I would wait to question her about her strange reaction.  “Galaxy Message System, through which you send communications.  Called a Comm or a GMS.”

“I’d noticed that you haven’t been using your selllfown anymore.”

“My what?”

“Your taaahblet, your selllfown…”  Her face contorted as she made… a little growling sound that made my tail flick.  “Arrgh!  No clicks from my mouth means those aren’t matching to your words, right?”

I nodded once.

She huffed.  "Alright.  That thing - that flat thing that you kept tapping on after we said goodbye to your brother and sister in the tick-tack.”

Tick tack?  Ticks were such tiny parasites, it would be impossible to outfit them in tack, let alone useless.    I tried to puzzle out the comparison to a puny, beleaguered ship that was virtually pointless to pilot - ohhh.  Ha!  She was clever.  “It was damaged when we were chased.  That time they pinned me to the ground, briefly.”

Her eyes flashed to mine in horror.  “So that’s why we’ve been stuck here?  They don’t know where we are now?  Crahap!”

I stared at her a beat, my steps slowed, then nodded.  “Crahap.” I repeated, trying not to snap my teeth together for any of the syllables.  “But now we might have someone who will fix it or sell us a new model.  Come, princess.”  Now I smiled down at her brightly, the thought soothing me.  “We might make it home yet.”

“Goody,” she said so quietly I barely heard her.

16

ANGIE

Something weird happened at the repair tent Arokh was so excited to find.  The fix-it guy took super deep inhales and gave us pointed looks.

I knew I smelled rank, but, rude.

He also kept looking at the way I gripped Arokh’s suit, and he said something to Arokh that made him snap to his full height.

Something about me.  And should he really be alone with me without my …service?

Fucking fucked up translator.

I was missing a shit ton of insinuations, implications, undertones, and innuendo - I just knew it.

And I really, really knew it when Arokh leaned forward and snarled something in the shopkeepers face that might not have been words at all, because it had no translation.  It did have a hella lotta fangs showing though.

We left the tent.

Sans a working …GMS unit.  And the guy’s prices were too high for his new ones, and even his used ones – Arokh asked.  And the man was rude to him!  Rude!  It was weird though; when I made a choking sound – offended by the way he was treating my alien – the man looked over to see me glaring at him and he… apologized.  To me.

For what it was worth, he looked like he meant it.

I shook my head.  Poor Arokh.  I patted his ribs, making him glance down at me, shoot me a brief, strained smile, before he continued leading us away.  Fast.  I guess either the man hadn’t offered to buy Arokh’s broken one for parts or he’d been too pissed to ask.  “Hey, big guy, you gotta slow down or you’ll be dragging me here,” I warned.

But he didn’t just slow down – he stopped.  So fast that I made it two more steps before my hold on his suit yanked me to a halt.

Then I was in his arms.  "Geez!"

“I’ve got you,” he said, but his voice was going all rough.  And his next words were growled into that spot he liked to smell at the top of my head.  Growled so quietly that I don’t know if he meant to say them out loud at all.  “You are mine.  You have chosen me.  I will see you safe.  I will make you happy.  You are mine now.”

Nowww… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little freaked out.  But the rumble of his voice against my hair, and all this talk about me being all his, and remembering what we’d done when we’d had access to a bed.  And water.  And what he could do with his mouth?  Mmmm.  I was growing less and less alarmed as every delicious memory of the last few days flashed before my eyes.

“Angie.”

“What?” I asked innocently.  But I totally knew.  I pulled away enough that I could look up at his face, but not so far that I felt gravity dragging me down.  Since I’d met him, I’d begun to feel like an aerial performer; always carried around like this.  It was an oddly… pleasant feeling.  He was so strong.  And he made me feel – as weird as it sounded – feminine.  Delicate.  And the way he held me?  It made me feel like I was precious.  To him.  Man, he was sweet.

His nostrils flared as he looked down his long, adorably roman nose at me.

“What?” I repeated.  Totally still rocking the innocent act.

He shifted me so that he could have a hand free.  Then he used that hand to peel mine from where I had been playing with the fasteners on his suit.

He set me down.

I pouted.

He looked torn.

I tried to look even more rejected.

“Angie…” he breathed.

I turned my Puppy Dog Eyes onto their full blast setting.

“Angie!”  He growled as he bent down.  And he kissed me.  I wrapped my arm around the back of his neck and held on when he tried to stand back up.  He groaned into my mouth.  After a moment, he grabbed me.  “Not here,” he breathed.  "It is important to note that I am in no way refusing- "  He lifted his head to look around.  His whole body went rigid.  I looked up then too, and saw the damn repair guy was watching us.  Watching us like what we were doing was the most scandalous thing he’d ever seen.  His mouth was hanging open and everything.  I glanced around.  Yep, lots of mis-matched alien couples.  But no Rakhii.  No Humans.  I wasn’t sure which one of us was making our pairing gross or wrong or whatever the fuck was bothering this guy even by alien standards - but it was obvious we weren’t going to get his vote for prom king & queen or anything.

“Fuck him.” I said to Arokh.

That got his attention back on my face.  Totally.  Appalled.

I burst out laughing.  “Not like that,” I assured.  “I just mean you should ignore him.  It doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

Instead, he looked around again – glared at the repair guy until he scurried away – then Arokh took my hand and we took off.

When I got so hungry I started to feel a little shaky and lightheaded, Arokh tugged me out of the main traffic and found someone selling a thick black…stew?  I gave up trying to match the food I knew with whatever this crap was.

But I ate it.  So did Arokh.  I wanted to cry when he finished his and still looked hungry.  He looked up before I could wipe the expression off of my face.

“Angie…” he murmured.  Then he reached out and ran a finger along the side of my face.  “I will be fine.”

I sniffed, and used the back of my hand to wipe at my eyes.  I hoped it wasn’t so dirty that it was leaving marks.  I fucking hated this place.  This whole situation.

“Angie!”

I looked at him.  “What?”

He pulled me onto his lap.  “What is the matter?”

“Everything.”  He looked alarmed so I tried not to wail as I narrowed it down.  “I don’t know!”

He made an exasperated sound but he began to pet my hair.  I sighed.  “Wow, that feels great.  I love it when you do that.”

“Mmm.” He agreed, before bringing his hand to the spot between my shoulders where he began to knead gently.  Then he worked down to my stiff hips, and then he got to my legs.  My poor legs.  I loved it when he did this.  I loved his strong hands.  His kind hands.  His warm lap.  Big, hard thighs.  His sexy smell.  This was heaven.

I melted against him, no more bones to hold me up, and tried not to moan.  Much.

Instead of moving to my ankles (which I'd found out I really liked - who knew ankles could ache so much and feel soooo good when massaged?) he abruptly hauled us up.

“What’s the matter?” I gasped.

“We need to find somewhere more private,” he growled.

“Oh.  Ohhhh.”

And I was surprised to find that I wasn’t feeling as sorry for myself as I had been.  Thanks to him.  I had Arokh; life was shit right now, but for however long we had together, I was thankful he was here to make living - well?  Worth living.

And I could admit to myself that I was more than just grateful to him for saving me.  Way more.

17

AROKH

Thrusting up into her body, my hands gripping her hips, bringing her down on me, feeling her grind against me.

I threw my head back until my horns slammed tips down.  I couldn’t come yet.  No matter how it felt as her insides squeezed me.  She was so hot.  And she was so wet that the sounds we made were as loud as they were exquisitely erotic.

But she wasn’t coming.

Her face was beautiful.  Skin flushed, shining.  She was biting her lip now, her face ridges furrowed in a sort of pained ecstasy as she chased her orgasm.

I knew what would help her.  What she needed.  What I wanted.  What I craved.  I pulled up on her hips.  Adjusted my grip until I could lift her up and off of me.

The sound she made was halfway between a whimper and a wail, “What-!  I was so close!”

My arms started to shake just as I lowered her over my face.  I smiled into her softness thinking I needed to add this to my daily workout.  Clearly, my muscles needed more training for this very important task.

Best.  Workout.  Ever.

“Arokh!”  Her legs dropped to brace herself on her toes, her thighs snugly warming either side of my face.

“Put your hands on the wall.”  I winced, and quickly turned the order into a request.  “Please, princess.”

She didn’t complain about me commanding her.  She didn’t complain about anything.  She slowly lowered herself until my tongue reached her – swiping along until it lapped right over her clit.

She gasped.  “Yesssss!”

But after that, I avoided it, licking around it in circles.  Fluttering just underneath of it, stiffening my tongue and adding hard pressure right there, to the spot that made her buck on my face, her pussy lips pressing over my mouth and chin.

And her nectarous flavor coating my tongue.

“Please!  Please-please-please-pleeeease,” She begged with every forward nudge of her hips over my face.

I closed my lips over the spot she needed me to.

My tongue shoved hard under it, cupping her clit, my top lip curled over my teeth so that it was squeezed between my lip and tongue.

And then I sucked.

My arm came up but her head was thrown back so I could only see a line up her mound, over her belly, to her beautiful breasts – but she knew what I was doing, knew what needed to be done.  She took my hand and guided it to her mouth, pressing her hot lips to my palm so that it muffled all of her whimpers and squeals.

And her scream.

Her body went still on top of my face for a moment, then the shaking started so fiercely that I had to act fast to catch her before she fell on me.  Her strength gone, I maneuvered her limp weight until she was back over my still aching cock.  It had softened a little without her attention, cold after being welcomed in her warm slickness only to be ripped out of her.  But tasting her on my tongue had kept it from calming completely.  And when I had her over my thighs again, it was quick enough to thicken to full attention.

I guided it inside of her, my cock swelling so fast that I knew this was it.  I managed to thrust once, twice – and my release was so strong I saw the galaxy burst behind my eyelids.  I groaned into her neck, and when I dragged my tongue over her shoulder, the saltiness of her sweat here mingled with the tangy taste of her that still clung to my tongue.  So good.  I growled and wanted to bite her – but I didn’t want to hurt her.  The instinct to keep her safe overrode my desire to mark her as mine.

And she was mine.

The strong surge of… gnawing possessiveness I felt over her suddenly made me afraid.  But I couldn’t let her go.  Wouldn’t even consider leaving her.  That wasn’t an option before, and it definitely wasn’t one now.  Listening, smelling the air – filtering out the scent of her addictive sex – I found no one had neared us.  Telling her to stay as I crossed the aisle of the stall, where I noticed a tap of trickling water.  I collected a bucket and wiped it out with my tail, the end fringe collecting… whatever was clinging to the sides.  I shook my tail out as the bucket filled.  Back at her side, kissing her crownfur and keeping my arms fitted around her while I dug in my pack for more of my blanket to cut up.  Cumbersome – but I craved to keep touching her, no matter how ridiculous I would have found the notion before.  Plus, the entire action made her laugh softly, and she turned into me to hug me back, nuzzling against my throat.

At this, I froze.

Waiting.

It was more than I had hoped for.  So much more.  I swallowed hard, and wondered what I would say when-

But she simply dropped back down to sit inside my embrace.

Disappointment was suddenly a bitter rock in my throat.  Which was ridiculous.  I never expected her to lovebite me before.  Why this despair now?

Because she was so close to doing it… and chose not to.

She didn’t choose me.

I treasured her.  She was mine.  But… was I hers?

It wouldn’t be natural for her to claim a Rakhii in this way.  I should be content that she nearly did it at all.

But I can’t stop myself.

I have to know.

“Do you have other males?”

She turned to stone right in my arms.

“Do I have other… males?  As in more than one?  No.”

Her tone indicated that she thought I'd lost my sense.

Or my intellegence.

I felt my jaw clench.  “Do you have a male?”

Unthinkable, that she would only have one.  Angie, who put all Gryfala to shame with her beauty and bravery?

She stared at me.  And there was this voice, this little, tiny voice, shouting at me – but I couldn’t make out the words, too focused on my jealousy.  I felt the emotion rumble in my throat as I demanded, “Angie, answer me.”

Slowly, so slowly that a sense of alarm immediately skittered up my spine - her arms crossed one over the other, defiant.  Furious.  “I don’t know.  He’s being kind of an ideee-Ott right now!”

I blinked down at her, tension still thrumming through me.  She huffed and shot me a disgusted look.  “You are my male,” she made an alarming gesture, raising the index and extra finger next to it – of both hands – and flashed them at me, crooked knuckles and fingertips flying up and down.  Twice.

“Arokh – you.  Mine.  Only.  You idee-Ott!”

My relief was so great, I trumpeted.

“What the fuhhhck?” she exclaimed, looking at me in alarm.  “Are we being attacked?”

I went on the alert, carefully assessing - but the room was secure.  We were alone.  “No.  We are as safe as possible.”

“Okaaaay then.  Stop with the scary noise!  It creeps me the fuhck out.”  She looked skyward when she said this, holding up her hands in a placating gesture.  To herself it seemed, she said, “The shit I’ve had to deal with…”

“Creeps?”

“Where I’m from, that’s a noise a very scary creature makes.”

Cocking my head, I try to puzzle her out.  “I am a very scary creature.”

She halted.  Then she smiled.  “That’s true.  You are a badasss.”

Certain that I liked that tone of admiration when she said her strange word, I nodded, deciding if she believed it a fitting title; I was honored.  “If my bugle startles you, I will endeavor not to call out during battle.”

“Bugle?”

“My trumpet-call.”

“That’s… okay.  So you do that when you are in battle, and when you are… happy?”

I nod.  “And singing.”

“Singing?  Like… you make music?  With your… trumpeting?”

I’d never had the urge to demonstrate this for a female before - yet my chest puffed up.

I bugled.

Her eyes flew open wide as she threw her hands over her tiny ears.

I tried to be humble about my gifts, but my bugling was something I was intensely proud of.  Loud, deep, and vibrating; it was beautiful.  At home, I had to be careful when I practiced – I would have felt terrible if a female had wandered from her bonded - attracted by my call - and I would be forced to defend myself.

I’d been fairly sure it was more powerful than average.

But my Angie?

She looked absolutely stunned.

I am lacing up her dress when she turns her head to regard me.  “Some things I believe I know, but since you brought it up, I want to make sure too… are you with someone back home?”

My fingers stilled.  “With someone?”

“Do you have… a female?”

I regarded her.  Baffled.  “Angie.  No!  I would never have left my female, had I been blessed with one before.”

“Oh.”

I grip her forearm.  “I won’t leave you.  Not willingly.  Even if you never bite me.”

She started to smile, but then she just looked perplexed as she tapped behind her ear.  I wondered if the translator was not working properly and I sighed, then tried to shake off the agitation by standing.  Then I tried pacing.

It helped that she was nearly cloaked in my scent.  It soothed the part of me that was ruled entirely by instinct.

But only slightly.

Because my instincts told me that she wasn’t safe, that this was a terrible place to start a litter, and on top of that, the rational half recognized that my scent was getting even darker and muskier.

Of course this increase in potency would serve as an even severer warning.

Few would risk an attempt to take her from me now.

But that didn’t mean that the implications weren’t trying to gnaw me alive.  I sighed heavily as I brought her towards me one last time for the contact I already desperately needed.  Wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug, I rested my chin atop her head.

And her touch, her soft, sweet-smelling hair, my smell all over her, the feel of her against me; I couldn’t muster regret.  It was done.

As we passed other males, I felt my spines leaking, the threat visible and ready.

She is mine.  And for now, mine alone.

For now.  For now.  For now.

The notion rings in my head, making me feel crazed.  I want to order her to keep me as her only male.  I clamp my jaws together so the words don’t leave my mouth.

But it is hard.

Feeling incredibly proprietorial over her, I hold her hand tightly and whenever we stop to barter for a match, I clasp our joined hands right over my hearts.

It comforts the worst of the cravings to cow an entire area of males.  Every cautious, frightened, horrified look is welcome.

But this does not go unnoticed by potential sponsors.  Though none dare to comment on it either.  We are on a backwater, primitive, nearly lawless planet.  Nothing would truly raise brows here.  Not on these men anyway.

It’s the ones that look less frightened, and more avaricious - as they steal glances at Angie - that keep me on edge.

We need to reach homeland.

We need a way to get out of this place.

So I am feeling desperation when Jalteer angles his head to a stone corridor that sits unnoticed in the shadows.  “You have an interested sponsor that wishes to speak to you privately.”

About rutting time we caught a break.  I stand, and Angie takes my hand without a moment’s hesitation, then watches me expectantly.  “This is good news?” she says.

“Let us hope.”  I led her through the crowd, weaving through tables.  When we reached the corridor I was hit with an overpowering cologne.  The scales along the bridge of my nose wrinkled, making Angie gape.  But then she covered her own nose with a hand.  “Phew, somebody tried to drown himself without water.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as he has money.  Here,” I instruct, pausing to place her hands on my belt.  “Hold close.”  It was wholly unnecessary since she had been doing just that for days, but I liked the excuse to touch her and I would take every chance I got.

“You think I’d go down this creepy tunnel otherwise?  No way, big guy.”

I smiled grimly.  “Smart instincts, my female.”  I shook my head.  “But we don’t have much choice.”  I hated clandestine deals in settings like this, but this wasn’t the first time I’d set a match in a strange place.  This was probably a tunnel for catacombs, and I especially disliked those.  We burned our dead or buried them.  We didn’t waste time and materials on creating strange and dark mazes with odd designs that either protected the dead’s goods or – supposedly - comforted the dead’s visitors and every time I had to venture down into one it made little sense to me.  As with so many customs; it wasn’t for me to understand.  I simply had to respect that it worked for others… I just preferred to respect them from far, far away. The only good thing was the fact that the musty smell of stone was barely detectable under the fancy stench of our –hopefully- future sponsor.

The corridor ended with a great metal door, cracked open just for us.  We stepped inside cautiously.  My eyes instantly went to the male waiting for us.

“Greetings.” He said mildly.  Yet his eyes darted.

Untrustworthy behavior.  I didn’t like it.  But considering where we were, what planet we were on, really, his manner shouldn’t have stood out at all.  Beggers can’t afford to be selective.  His suit looked rich enough for me to have hope.  Yet I felt every one of my quills raise and stand on end.

His eyes raked over me.  “You look like a fighter.”

I struggled to relax myself.  “I am.”  My voice echoed a little off the walls.

“Excellent.  I understand you are looking to pit against any comers?  Until pinned, or until death?”

As we nailed down details, I felt Angie relax at my back.  Then her hands dropped from my waist.  I felt instantly disconcerted at the loss of connection.  The male’s terms started coming faster, and his voice became terser as I tried not to be distracted by my Angie’s absence.

And failed.

Yet instead of looking annoyed at my distraction, he seemed… agitated.  Eyes narrowing, I began to step to the side – my instincts told me the sponsor was not someone to which I should turn my back – and I started to call out to Angie.  Instinct would naturally make me crazed to have her close.  Closer than close.  Maybe I was simply reacting because of that.  All I knew in that moment was that I really wanted to have her back in my arms.  I needed her touch, needed to know she was safe.  That’s when I saw what had snagged her attention.

A massive pile of sparkling gems sat just behind another wrought iron door on the other side of the cavern.  That side of the catacomb was covered in a length of strong bars.  The heavy door was open, inviting.  Tantalizing.

The shiny rocks and colorful gems winked even in this dark, damp place, completely incongruous to the surroundings.

Completely planted.

“Angie, NO!” I shouted and charged towards her.

But I was a click too late.  She whirled to me, but the door clanged shut between us.  Behind me, I heard the gate lock and I knew without turning that our “sponsor” was gone.  His job was done.

Behind Angie, two tremendous shapes took form in the shadows.

I let out a bone chilling growl.  The vibration of it was so fierce my throat felt like it was peeling.  I was caged.

She was trapped.

My nose burned when I scented her fear.  Lunging at the bars, I roared with bloodlust.

The attackers seemed baffled.  One held out a hand.  “Be not afraid female.  You should know we mean you no harm.”

I blew a stream of fire, but the flames stopped several feet short of either target.

Angie backed towards me, her terror smell so strong it made my spines prickle and leak droplets of toxin.  “Do not TOUCH her,” I bellowed.

“Calm, princess.” One soothed, bending a little as he took another stride forward.  This close, I could catch their scent and it locked my body into a momentary halt.  Hobs?  Why this covert setup?  Why not simply approach us?

They knew.  Somehow, they knew.  And they had come for her.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was a good thing.

But my body rebelled.  No one would take her from me.  Mine.

“I’m not your princess,” she sneered.

The closest one dropped his hood for her inspection.  Reached for her.  “Of course you are.  Come to me, please.”

“No,” she whimpered.  “Not again,” and she dug at her waist for the knife I had given her days ago.

Shocked, both hobs froze.  Then they shifted accusatory gazes to me before looking back to her.  “You will never be hurt again.  We will protect you.” One vowed, voice like hothbaark ice.  The other muttered, “I am sick to think a Rakhii let a Gryfala come to harm...”

The walls sounded as if they would shake loose from the force of my body hitting the barrier between me and my female.

“He saved me,” she said.  She was less afraid now, but I knew the threat had not lessened.  They had every intention of claiming her for their own.

Bash!

“Many times, actually.  I am really lucky he found me.”

Bash!

“Calm your …guard,” the taller one said in a tone that held exasperation.

My female was careful in her response.  “Sure seems he has reason to be angry.  You have him in a fuhreeking cage.”

My next lunge made the massive bars quake.  And one of the flat bars at the front creaked.  I concentrated on that spot, torqueing my neck to hit it with my horns.  The screech of metal bending loose from the welding weave was horrific to my sensitive ears.  I pinned them flat to my neck and kept ramming.

Apparently, the sound was horrific to the hobs too.  “Creator,” one ran a hand through his closely shorn mane.  “Princess, I beg you - calm him before he escapes.  We need to have words with you.”

“Words, huh?” she asked.  “Okay.  If I agree to hear you out, will you let us go?”

“Of course.”

“Is this like an elven magic-speak thing?  Like I have to be uber specific with my terms, leaving you no loophole to twist my words?”

I didn’t hear what they said because my next bone jarring brash against the bars burst another reinforcement.  This time the squeal of metal was satisfying.

One of them dropped to a knee before her.  “Hail female.  We would like to gain your permission to join your hob ranks.”

If sounds could kill, the one that left my throat then should have pulverized their innards.

Another cage bar broke and bent outward, causing the males to talk faster.

“Please female, we wish to be in your service.”

SLAM!

“You just want to join us?  Really?”

“We want to be your hobs,” the first one sounded relieved.  And idiotically hopeful, I thought a little uncharitably.  “It would be an honor.”

“Was this,” she gestured to the cage I was working free of piece-by-piece, “Really necessary?”

“Definitely.” The second one said, eyeing the five remaining pieces I needed to break in order to free myself.

“I’ll just ask my… male, and see if he objects to help.  One moment please.”  I think I detected sarcasm.  But I was too busy breaking down the barrier preventing me from my Gryfala to be very certain.

Brows drawn, one asked, “You defer to him?  Does he attempt to dominate his will over you?”

“Umm,” her eyes flicked to me, and her lips quirked a little.  I felt my hearts leap and incredibly, my anger rolled back for a brief moment.  “I guess we discuss?  He certainly knows more about this planet than I do so I’d say his opinion is pretty much the one that counts… what are you doing?”

He was shrugging off his cloak.

The bastard was going to display his wings for her.  I’d never imagined what the Rakhii guards must feel when their Gryfala was being courted by yet another hob.

Blinding, uncontrollable rage.

He opened them, and even in the dim light, they shone and sparkled.

“Holy-!  Whoa!  Um, what are you doing?”  She backed another step.

“I’m displaying for you.”

“That’s – that’s okay, really.  You can – you can put your poncho back on, there.  Now.”

Angie actually seemed alarmed, which should have soothed yet somehow did not comfort me at all.

I roared with renewed determination.  Three bars left.

I heard the jangle of keys.  “Here.  Unlock the door, but make him vow first that he will not act out retribution for us speaking to you.”

“Oookay.”  Softly, she called my name.  Lungs heaving like bellows, I met her at the door, gripping it hard enough for the metal to creak.

She watched for a blink, then smiled up at me.  “Hey there, big guy.  They want your word that you won’t kick their asses for this.”

I snarled.  Shaken loose, dirt and small stones now trickled from the ceiling.

She shot a glance over her shoulder, then eyed me.  “Look, I don’t know what is going on here, but you do.  Can we trust these guys?”

My chin jerked down but that was as charitable and honest as I could manage.

“Kind of weird, right?  What exactly is in it for them?” she whispered.

You, I wanted to say.

“But, I mean, if their motivations are good, would it be helpful to have two more big dudes to watch your back so you don’t have to do everything alone?”

Violent fury had turned my vision nearly tanzanite.  I wanted to be her lone caretaker.  Me alone to see to all her needs.  Share?  I could not.  It would break me.  Mine.  She was mine.

“Convince him faster,” whispered a Hob.

If I’d kept up at the break in the pen, I’d be out by now and they would both be dead.  I tensed to move back and continue but Angie stalled me.  “Hey.  If you want help, say yes.  If not, just say no.  After those… after I was auctioned, the thought of strange guys near me is not appealing in the slightest, but, I know you worry about who will protect me at your gladiator game and you don’t have anyone at your back.  Whatever you want to do, I trust you.”

My poor female.  She feared.

And rightly so.

My ribs strained as I sucked in lung fulls of air, trying to think.  I could not protect her alone.  I was not enough.  This situation was stark proof that I had failed.  With these words from her, my anger was extinguished.  She had reminded me that her safety was paramount.  My selfishness was nothing in the face of her being taken against her will again; if these had been more Krortuvian beasts rather than bachelor hobs, they could have done this very same trick and had her spread between them while I impotently sat caged.  I shamed her by not protecting her properly.  Shamed myself.

“My word,” I panted.  “Release me now.”

She fumbled slightly with the lock, and when one of the hobs moved up behind her to help, I hit the cage, which shook the key out and sent it tumbling to her feet.

She only gave me a look, but its impact on me was such that it caused me to duck my head.  Then she threw a glare over her shoulder that had the hob retreating.  My little Gryfala might be small, but she knew to be assertive even with hobs twice her size.  Good for her.

When the door swung open I clutched her to me in relief.  Course vestiges from the unspent adrenaline rush racked my frame as I stood bowed over her.  I snuffled her mane, her neck, her face.  She stroked the bridge of my nose.  When she innocently brushed the base of my horns, I stopped her hands.  My control - it would not do to work me up in this state; my body was primed to possess her now that I had her safely in my arms.  It was instinctual.

When one of the hobs shifted, my body tightened.  A male’s vow may be sacred but I feared that only her hold on me kept my promise from being broken.  Such violence I felt towards these interlopers.

One of them began scooping up the precious metals and stones on the floor and filling a brightly colored satin pouch.  I noted Angie’s stillness, and realized she was watching, captivated.

“Typical female,” I tried to tease.  I wasn’t very successful; my voice was still rough from the adrenaline and the slowly dissipating rage.  But my female didn’t allow the opportunity to falter.

“Come on.  You seriously wouldn’t have been curious why a pile – a whole pile, Arokh – of jewels,” her voice had gone high pitched and oddly strained, as if the  sight of the trinkets waiting for the taking pained her, “was sitting in an abandoned cave?  Come on!  It’s like Aladdin’s cave, or a pirate’s dream.  A pile of treasure!  Just sitting there!  Crazy!”

Though her words were strange, I understood her meaning.  “It is the oldest trick there is.”

“I guess it worked.”  She pursed her lips.  “Where I’m from, it'd be one heck of a find.  I take it stones like that aren’t rare here?”

Shaking my head, I answered.  “They are rare.  What they baited you with is worth a fortune.”

She whistled.  “Quite a risk.  What if I’d managed to pocket some of it?”

“They’d be overjoyed.” I grumbled.

“Ha.”

The hobs were listening intently, and the taller of the two stepped closer.  “We would be honored if you’d accept them, princess.”

The other one hefted the bag but didn’t cinch the pouch; the firelight caught the gleaming, shining, glittery mass and I could see why females never failed to be attracted.  My arms tightened around Angie.

“Huh?”  Angie pulled one of her arms free from under mine and wiggled a tiny finger into her ear.  Then she flicked her fingers against the translator’s base.  “I must have misheard.”

I folded my fingers over hers so that she could do no more damage to her ear.  She threw me a lopsided, soft, smile.

And the hobs smiled at her indulgently.  Then they thrust the bag towards her.  I felt myself relax slightly when Angie moved to clasp her hands behind her back in the miniscule space I'd allowed between our bodies.

"Wow.  Beautiful.  But… no thank you. I couldn’t accept them.”

The males were crestfallen.

But not deterred.  This was probably because they’d been prepared for such a gentle refusal in one of their courtship scenario drills, or whatever they did in the academy.  I curled my lip.

“We will continue to woo you then, princess.”  They bowed.

Angie made an alarming sound almost like her throat was having fits.  “Woo… what?”

One of them pulled out a gem that was almost as large as his palm.  “Do you have a preference for colors?”  He raised a brow.  And grinned.  “Or sizes?”

I stiffened.  How dare he-

“Ummm…” Angie threw me a very anxious, very confused look.  “What’s with the hard sell on sparklies?”

My lips twisted.  “These tyros have been using all their spare coin to buy themselves mating baubles.  The males to amass the best hordes - with the largest stones,” I sneered thinking of the many pebble sized ones that filled out their pouch, “are most likely to win the favor of a female.”

The other one quietly sputtered to his companion, “Tyros?  Tyros!”

“Oh that’s… that’s… very flattering…” she finished weakly.  “Can we get out of this cave now?”

“Whatever you desire.”  The male patiently put his gem back in the bag.

“Rakhii.”  The grimmer looking one gave me a cool, measured look.  “Just what were you planning to do to protect her while you fought in a gladiator battle?”

My teeth ground together so hard they squeaked.

His expression was sardonic as his gaze scanned my slightly scruffy-looking Angie.  It burned that I hadn’t been able to offer her the level of care she deserved.  “Can’t tell you how glad we are to see that the Gryfala you have been ‘guarding’ fared a little better than your GMS unit.”

When my venom sacs swelled, Angie's small hand landed on my forearm, stalling me just enough for the other hob to decide he should play the role of peacekeeper.  With a nod he said lightly, “We learned that you've been offering to challenge in exchange for reliable passage on a ship.”

“Yes,” I hissed.

“We are willing to extend safe passage to you as a reward for keeping this Gryfala …safe… here until we arrived.”

I lunged.  I was on top of the hob before he could react, my weight pinning him into the soft dirt and I’m not sure what I would have done to him if I hadn’t seen the second hob’s movement out of the corner of my vision.  Instead of helping his fellow, he recruited my whole attention simply by advancing on Angie.  Brilliant play.  This adversary was not stupid.

My plan to attack forgotten - as he’d known it would be - I leapt up, but instead of tackling this other hob, I had to open my arms to catch Angie, who was launching herself at me in order to avoid him.  I felt her tremble against me.  I stroked her hair and whispered soothingly.

The interlopers were frozen, staring.  It was obvious that they were stunned by the inconceivable fact that a Gryfala had just turned away two hobs to fling herself into the arms of a lowly Rakhii.

“Tzads,” one cursed.

The other said reasonably, “Careful, Rakhii.  You are displaying so many warning signs of possession and aggression that it would seem you are in imminent danger of being broken.”

“I’d guess that’s what that smell is too,” the other added.

“Don’t you think I know that?” I snarled.  Angie tried to fit herself to me even tighter.  Her face was pressed into my chest, so her words came out muffled.

“Broken?  Is that like a euphemism for taking you out back and fuhking you up?”

She peeked out to see we were all blinking at her.

“Yeah, okay.  All of you gaping at me isn’t uncomfortable at all.”  She made a move to hide her head against my shoulder.

“When a Rakhii develops an unhealthy attachment—“ the more insufferable hob began.

“Can we discuss this on your rutting ship?” I cut in.  “We’re ready to never see this planet’s surface again.”

“You said it,” Angie breathed into my neck.  My scales changed colors rapidly everywhere her breath fanned.  I was only furious that the hobs saw this too.

I lifted her and she gave what I felt was only a token protest.  “Hellooo, I can walk.”

Not ‘I’d rather walk’, or ‘Put me down, you presumptuous Rakhii’.  No command meant I could interpret the situation for myself.  So I nuzzled her head and spoke only for her ears.  “Let me carry you, sweetling,” I murmured to her.  While I am still allowed to, I added silently.

As we headed out of the catacombs, I begrudgingly admitted – though only to myself – that I appreciated the protective presence at my back and our front.  Finally, my Gryfala was being properly guarded and soon she would be standing on homeland, and she would be safe.

I glanced over my shoulder and met the flinty cold stare of the gruff one.

Yes.  She would be reaching her planet safely.

But the odds of me being at her side?  Nominal.

I’d be lucky if they didn’t literally kick me out of their ship’s cargo bay.  While crossing deep space.

18

ANGIE

Arokh carried me the whole way to the guys’ ship.  As his boots thudded up the ramp, my heart began to beat faster, and my stomach began to twist.  Everything happened quickly after we arrived.  They shut the big door, did whatever they had to do to get the ship ready to go airborne, offered us refreshments (which I gobbled down with much delight – their snacks were the best thing I’d had since I’d been on earth) and we didn’t hit a snag until they wanted Arokh to leave me in a seat.

Not that I was protesting about being safely belted in.  Not at all.  It was more like how they were treating my alien that was getting my back up.

“You may place her there.  You will find the cargo bay has a strap for you to hold onto during takeoff.”

“And if I pull on this strap, is it attached to a lever that conveniently sucks me out of airlock?”  He snorted.  “No.  I will not be leaving my princess.”

“Rakhii–“

Enough of this.  I held up a hand then pointed at nothing in particular.  “Not.  Happening.”

The strangers froze, and it unnerved me how fast they both went from hostile whenever they addressed my alien to almost simpering whenever they faced me.

Almost ingratiating.

Adoring.

Weeeird…

I gave them both a hard look.  “He stays.”  Sheesh, look at me.  Who was I to start toting out the orders?  The guys’ spines had all snapped straight.  I sighed and tried again.  “Look, I’m with him.  If you want him in the cargo bay, then we’re both going to this cargo bay.”

"Unthinkable,” one countered.  “Angie, it is understandable that you would develop an attachment to the adequate source of protection you found on the auction planet, but –“

I spoke right over Arokh’s growl.  “Adequate?” My head went back and I narrowed my gaze at the grumpier looking one.  Dohrein, he’d informed me as he tried to feed me (right before Arokh snatched it from him so that he could be the one to feed me) was his name and he’d be deeply honored if I called him that.

“You have no idea.”

He bowed his head briefly.  “I overstep – “

“Yes you do!” I cut in.  “NO IDEA.  Look.  I don’t know you.  And from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re very nice.”

Note to self.  Pointing this out to the grumpier one did not make him look any less grumpy.  And note to self, these two guys were getting us a ride out of here.  Watch your tongue, self.  You’re an idiot.

I sighed.  “Thank you for the ride.  REALLY thank you.  Big time.  And if Arokh says we can trust you for a ride, then great.  Kindly get us off this planet.”  Oh!  Manners, much?  “Please!”  I added.  I pressed my palms together and tapped my thumbs to my breastbone.  “Then we’ll go our separate ways.”

The nicer one looked like he wanted to argue, so I turned my – again, narrowed – eyes to him and mentally sent a message to my eye lasers telling them to go from irritated to pulverizing.

For once, my eye lasers might have actually been a thing because he shrank back and both guys acquiesced and began to move on with their ship prep.  Begrudgingly, Arokh was offered one of the seats next to me.

Bad situation averted for now, I took his hand, and turned my attention to our surroundings.  The seats themselves were interesting.  Mine was smaller than the rest, and actually, it was pretty close to perfect for my size.  It was sort of in the center of the other seats, which seemed odd.  Maybe this ship was equipped with a child’s chair, front-and-center?  Strange place for a kid’s seat, but then again - aliens, so.

The floor rumbled beneath our feet, and as the ship rocketed higher and higher, my ears popped with the pressure.  My skin instantly felt tight all over.  My head felt weird, like it was being squeezed in a vice.  I was reminded of how I’d gotten airsick the time that I’d crossed the country by plane.  It had sucked.  With connecting flights going and returning, it had been a miserable set of experiences I’d promised myself never to repeat and plane passengers everywhere would be relieved if they never had to sit near a woman that rabidly grabs for their vomit bag after she fills her own.

Oh, how I’d like to rule out space travel too.  The ship lurched a little.  My stomach rolled and I began panting in an attempt to stave off the vomit that was working its way up my throat.  I didn’t know if it really helped; I’d been told as a child to do it when I’d been about to get vaccinated.  Probably to keep my mind focused elsewhere.  It hadn’t worked then, it hadn’t worked on plane rides, and it wasn’t working on a spaceship either.

“Angie?” Arokh said.  “Are you overheating?”

My mouth was watering.  I gave up with panting and dropped his hand so that I could press mine to my mouth as I valiantly tried to swallow.

Claws curled around my shoulders carefully.  “What is upsetting you, sweet one?”

“I don’t—“ I swallowed hard, twice.  Three times.  “Fly well.  Get sick.” I gulped and shuddered.  Waves of chills suddenly began radiating inside my body.

You get sick when you fly?”  Dohrein sounded appalled.  He had toggled the controls a little when he turned to examine me, and the resulting wiggle of our spacecraft was enough to blow my attempt at keeping my stomach contents where they belonged.  Literally.

“Tevek!” Arokh gathered my hair at my nape, and rubbed my back.  He was trying to be soothing, but his claws’ light drag was causing little shivers and no doubt this only added to my wretched appearance as I dry heaved.  I straightened and gave myself a little breathing room.  The worst of the pressure had eased and the ship had leveled out.  “Can I stand now?”

“Yes.  And here,” said the other one, Crispin, his tone sounding worried as he started to hand me a cloth.  Arokh snatched it from him so that he could give it to me himself, earning him a warning brow from the guy.  “Your excessive level of possessiveness is once again noted, Rakhii.”

“Tevek you.”

“Boys,” I said shakily as I tried to stand.  “Let’s play nice.”

Crisin bowed his head gallantly.  “Of course.”  He dropped another cloth on the floor, and started to clean it up.

“No, no – I’ll do that!  You don’t have to do that!” I said.  How embarrassing.  Having someone else clean up after me?

He held up a hand when I moved to take the nasty task from him.  “It is done, princess.”  He gave me the smallest, sweetest smile.

Riiiight, princess.  Me.  Ha.  And wiping up princess-vomit.  Way to take one for the team.  “Uh, thank you.  That was very, very kind of you.”

He beamed at me.  “I am pleased you think so.”

“You’re… very, very agreeable,” I croaked, then pressed my cloth to my mouth.

“For you, I’d agree to anything you asked.”  When I looked at him, his face held the most earnest… longing?  Whoa.  He sanitized his hands.  When he reached out to brush hair from my temple, I jerked back, and Arokh, I realized, hadn’t interfered.  I glanced back to find him just standing stiffly, his body almost ...vibrating - but just watching.

Me shutting Crispin’s gesture down seemed to reanimate him once more though.  Arokh snapped forward and grabbed me by the hips, tugging me to his body.

“You can rinse your mouth out here,” Crispin said dejectedly as he nudged open a narrow door and a light came on, showing a tiny sink, what I assumed was the spaceship equivalent of a urinal, and what looked to be a toilet made for beings with tails in mind; no tank in back and set away from the wall a bit.  It was a small room, made even smaller when Arokh inserted himself inside with me, and Crispin squeezed into the doorway.  I did my best to ignore the challenging stare contest they were holding above my bent head, but it was hard with the big mirror reflecting it all.  I washed out the cloth, then worked it over my clammy face.  When I caught the sound of a low, threatening growl, I snapped.  “That’s it!  Out!”

“You heard her.” Arokh sneered.

“Both of you.”

Crispin’s smirk was so full of nose-rubbed-in-it smugness that even I felt stung.  And then there was the wrecked look on Arokh’s face.  Damn.  It didn’t feel good to have my alien’s pride taking a beating, even if he was making me feel like a toy caught between two fighting dogs.  No, that wasn’t right.  He was my alien.  He had defended me and protected me time and again, and now he didn’t want these two to touch me.  I was all for that plan.

Time to save his pride.

I took his hand and brushed it against my cheek.  “I am looking forward to private time with a toilet that is not a bush and I want to kiss you before you go, but we both know what just came out of my mouth so…”  I gave a weak smile and Arokh instantly relaxed.

He took control of his hand then, rubbing his thumb over my skin, then bent over to drop a kiss to the top of my head.  He squeezed past me and glared down Crispin who slowly stepped back from the door.  I don’t think they ever broke eye contact but I couldn’t do much about their dominance war.

I took advantage of the wonders of indoor plumbing, revisited the wonders of water that came out both temperature controlled and from a tap – heaven, utter heaven I tell you - to wash my hands, and then I cupped some to sip.

And that’s when I remembered something about earth spaceships filtering their wastewater into drinking water.  Was that real?  Did aliens do this too?  Was I drinking filtered alien piss?  I sniffed my hands (which smelled perfectly clean) and made an “Ewww,” noise.

Instantly, knuckles rapped on the door, and Arokh’s voice was right outside.

“Angie, are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine, big guy.  Just wondered if the water was safe to drink from the faucet in here.”

A pause.  “Yes.”

I shrugged and took another couple of handfuls.  When I looked – really looked – into the mirror I’d been avoiding, I took in my raggedy, filthy appearance.

I was a mess.  Sigh.

And then I noticed something behind me.  I turned, and yes!  It looked pretty much like a showerhead.  I almost danced on the spot.  Fuck it!  I did dance.  The spout was just tucked into the corner, unobtrusive and utilitarian.  No curtains or anything, just a drain in the floor.  Guess aliens liked walk-in showers.  Really, who cared?  I was one step away from bathing in the damn sink I felt so dirty.

“Arokh!”

The knob jostled and the door flexed inward with a hard bang.  But it held.  Barely.  “No!  No - I don’t need you to come in – I just really want a shower and I wanted you to know so you didn’t feel you had to hang around, you know, right at the freaking door handle.”

“Shau-wer?”

“Bathe, babe.  I need to wash all over.  I just wish I had a clean set of clothes to change into…”

“Worry not, princess!”  A cheery voice shouted, but he didn’t actually have to shout because he sounded like was waaaay too close to my bathroom door for normal - you know – if a human stuck in a spaceship bathroom being crowded by aliens could be considered normal.  He literally had to be just a step or two behind Arokh.

And that chipper voice had to belong to Crispin.  That guy.  Seriously happy to have a female on the ship, even a filthy one, wow.  “We have outfits for you!”

I jerked my face away from the door when I heard what I was pretty sure was a palm slap territorially against it.  Yes.  Territorially totally had a sound.  I didn’t know it until just now either, but there you go.

“That’s um, totally awesome.  Thanks.  Now, any chance I could get a bucket of soap, a towel, a washcloth, and some privacy?”  I looked down at my skin, which suspiciously looked like I’d had a tan.  A dark, speckled tan.  I rubbed a wet thumb over my arm and nope – that was all dirt.  Fabulous.  “Make that a stack of washcloths.”

This time, I thought the door really would bounce loose when Arokh failed to grasp the meaning of a privacy lock.  “Angie, please open this door-“

He sounded really freaked out, which was starting to freak me out a little.  Were the natives being mean to him again?  Probably.  “Okay, okay, easy there, big guy.  I’m unlocking the door now, don’t slam it into my face when you burst in here, got it?”

I stepped back just in case, and it was a good thing too because although the door missed me, Arokh’s eyes were a little bit wild and that extra half step he had to take to get to me surely gave him a miniscule bit of a chance to calm down and in all likelihood is probably what saved me from getting a cracked rib.  Barely.  “Squeezing!” I gasped.

“Grorry,” is what it sounded like as he growled into my hair.  His hold eased though, and I patted him weakly.  I noticed that his wrist spikes were at half mast, which only happened when he’d grown agitated at a threat.

“Hey - I’m alright.  What exactly did you think would happen to me in here?”  I tugged on one of his horns.

Arokh’s eyes went full dark at that.  He pulled back, then dropped his gaze, shoulders stiffening.  “I cannot be separated from you.  It …pains me.”

I stroked his back, avoiding spines.  “Aren’t you sweet?  I guess after spending literally every second together, it does feel weird.  It’s cool though.  I wasn’t going to tell you this, but since you’re all freaked out already - I was a little horrified to find that I missed looking at your back when I went pee.  Now isn’t that just a lovely overshare?”  I shot him a sheepish smile.

But Arokh didn’t laugh like I expected.

Instead, he burrowed his face into my shoulder and …he was trembling.

“Arokh!  Whoa, it’s okay.  Overreact much?”  I wrapped my arms as tight as I could as far as I could reach – which, admittedly, wasn’t far, he was one big beast - and hugged him as reassuringly as I could.

Thankfully, this actually did calm him.  And that was good, because Dohrein was suddenly beside us and shoving something fuzzy between our faces, making Arokh rear back violently.  I’m pretty sure if Dohrein had shown up a second sooner, he’d have been alien hamburger on the floor right now because something was seriously bothering my guy.

To – hopefully – avert major harm and dismemberment, I exclaimed brightly, “Shower supplies!”  And Dohrein broke the eye lock he had been dueling out with Arokh, and instead almost gave me a smile.  I think.  The deep grooves on either side of his mouth rearranged anyway.  “Clothing too.”  He held up his other hand – and I cocked my head.

“That’s some...seriously crazy colors.  And sparkles, woo.  I could compete in a figure skating contest wearing… that.  So many sparkles!  Um, thank you.”  I don’t know where they got them, how they happened to be close enough to my size to fit, or why they were bitchalicious, but I’d be crazy not to take clean clothes – especially when they were so kindly offered.  I accepted my bundles as Crispin showed up with a large container and a stack of furry squares.

“What do you have there?” I asked.

Crispin gave me a triumphant smile.  “I collected all the soap I could fit into this bucket for you, just as you decreed.  And here are your washcloths.”

Boy, did I feel like an ass.  That looked like a whole lot of soap.  And he collected it how?  From what?  He must have ransacked all over the ship.  I did have a lot of grime to attack but yet another note to self: be careful what I said to these very kind, very generous, very overeager guys.

“Thank you, you did great, Crispin.”  When I saw his smile grow and Dohrein’s face shutter, I hurried to add, “You both did.  Let me get this set up so I can wash.”

“We will help!”  Crispin smacked right into Arokh’s arm – the arm Arokh had just thrown out to block him from the door.

“I will take her things inside.”  His voice was low and dangerous.

I actually felt the testosterone ratchet up.  Or whatever the alien equivalent was.  I swear, it was so strong I could smell it.  Huh.  More nice & spicy.  Time to intervene #34.  “Why don’t we move things along, shall we?  I want to get clean sometime this century.”

Arokh ripped the items from Crispin’s hands and used a chin jerk to direct me backward.  I allowed this, but only because I wanted to wash up so badly and not because I found his bossiness hot.  Really.

When we approached the shower corner, he tilted his head and used a horn tip to hit a square panel.

“Ha!” I clapped as racks slid out of the wall.  Arokh, looking a little amused now, carefully set up my things and there was even a half shielded spot, where he set down my clothes.  When everything was ready, I rubbed my hands together and examined the showerhead.  “How do I turn on the water?”

Arokh gave me a strange look, and reached out a palm, pressing it against the wall.  The spot looked totally random to me, no identifying features that I could see – but water shot out and I whooped.  “Yay!  Alright, that’s your cue to go, boys.” I said with pursed lips.  Then I grinned.  Because water.  Dohrein’s nostrils flared, but he spun on his heel and stomped out.  Crispin gave me puppy eyes but at my gentle shooing motion, he too excited.

Arokh turned a pleading look on me.  “Can I turn my back to you while you wash, like we have done before?”

Was shower sex against etiquette if it wasn’t your shower?  Would the guys hear us?  “I was thinking you could just join me,” I cupped his jaw and popped my lips - a move that, I hoped, didn’t look ridiculous.  I’d seen my reflection.  I wasn’t exactly at my best for seduction.

“He cannot!”  the voice was Dohrein’s.

“Oookay.”  I felt my forehead crinkle up.  Guess this was an alien thing.  “Is it okay with you if he waits outside the door while I wash up, or is that asking too much?”

“I beg you,” Arokh did something that shocked me – disturbed me – he dropped to one knee and lowered that great big rack of horns.  “Please do not separate me from you.”

Well this was kind of extreme…

“Arokh,” I hissed in horror, “Get up!”

From the angle of the mirror at the sink, I could see Dohrein and Crispin were just outside, arms crossed on the former, hands behind his back for the latter.  It was right then that I saw this look... they exchanged this serious, weighted look that had the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

That’s what settled it for me.  That, and the still bowing form of my seven foot tall prism-kissed-behorned alien.  “You know I want you to stay with me.  Arokh, I don’t want you to leave my sight for too long either.”

Dohrein was suddenly in the bathroom, Crispin so close at his side they could pass for Siamese twins.  “If the Rakhii stays, we stay.”

“No, you fly the ship, I shower, he showers, and Arokh will make sure I’m safe, so no worries, right?”

“That was a question.”  His jaw jutted.

“I guess…” My lip did that thing where it pulls up in a ‘what the fuck’ expression.

Dohrein swallowed and said forcefully, “The ship will alert us if it needs.”  Then he leveled me with a look.  “We will have what he has.”

“Excuse me?”

His chin raised.  “You will allow him this privilege?  We shall exact it also.”

His gaze bored into mine, and I could see there was no budge in him, even though Crispin looked a little shaken.  “Brazen of you,” I thought I heard him mutter.

Arokh was growling softly.

I was tired.  No, make that exhausted.  And I had the promise of a hot shower a couple inches and one little agreement away.

So that’s how I ended up taking a shower with three hulking males facing the wall - with Arokh’s big body between us, but keeping eyes on them, making sure they didn’t turn, I guess.  Appreciated.  I would have felt too weird having Arokh get in the shower with me while they were here anyway.  My last edict for them was a weary, “Fine, fine, but stand where there is not a mirror, please.”

At first I was nervous - getting naked, with strangers only steps away, turned away or not, didn’t matter.  But then I popped my hand on the wall, felt that glorious water and I did not care.  They could have been ogling me full out for all it mattered once that water hit my skin and I got to scrubbing.  Nothing was stopping me after the gloriousness that was water plus soap.

The soap was frothy, pleasantly fragrant, and – surprise, surprise – sparkly.  I covered every inch and rinsed; then did it again.  Three times.  I stared at the first four washcloths in dismay.  I was pretty sure they’d need to be destroyed they were so caked with dirt.  At least the runoff water from my body was no longer brown.

When I was finished, I dressed in the strange clothes, then asked Arokh if he was ready to get clean.

He turned to face me, and the indecision was clear on his face.  “Yes, but you will stay?”

I answered purely in reaction to his stricken expression.  “Of course.”

Instead of passing me though, he snatched me to him and began to lick me, and rub his nose into my neck and drag his temples across mine; his long ears trailing over my face like silk.  Then he snuffled my damp forehead.  With the friction of his scales against my skin, bursts of a spicy, pleasant musk wafted up.

I shrugged.  Aliens.

It was a good smell.  I loved it, actually.  Alien perfume.

Unnerving though was the way the other two aliens’ shoulders stiffened when they turned their heads to inhale deeply.  I wandered over to the sink, thinking it was time to tackle my poor hair.

That’s when things went strange… er.  The one closest to me flashed me a triumphant grin, while the other shot him a look that was just short of murderous.

“Good grief,” I muttered as I maneuvered one to my side and tugged the other over so that I was between them, therefore no longer giving the impression that I was choosing one over the other.  Then I did my best to ignore them.

My fingers encountered tangles as I combed them through my hair.  I was pulling myself free of a snag when a hand suddenly whispered over my head and down my neck… and then began working at the ends, plucking them gently apart.  Both of them moved to get behind me, and in the mirror I watched them smashing each other’s shoulders in an effort to share the task.

“Guys?  As nice a gesture as this is, I have got to tell you.  It’s making me uncomfortable.”

The stroking stopped.  Heads appeared on each side of my peripheral.  “Are we hurting you?”

Dohrein’s sounded slightly offended when he added, “I am certain this is the proper technique.  We spent nearly a week on manes.”

“…Uh, manes?  A week on …manes?”

“In our studies.  One of the curriculum topics is mane care.”

I blinked.  A lot.  “Right.  Sure.”

“Allow me to try a technique I was given high marks for.”  Dohrein said and he began a light scalp massage.  I felt Crispin move in to try this also, and I swore I could almost feel the air zing with a competitive crackle.  But when one of them moved to my shoulders and worked at a tension knot, I went from feeling a little weirded-out to being absolutely boneless.  I had to lock my knees so that I didn’t faceplant.  I don’t think I was very successful at stifling my moan.

That really lit a fire under them, and they both began to massage my neck and shoulders as if they were claiming real estate.  As my mind was trying to come to terms with the fact that two dudes were fighting over hair-brushing-privileges, a dripping wet and seething Arok was suddenly looming over us, and he took the expedient route to making me suitor-free.

He hauled me right off the floor and bounced me up into his arms.

“Arokh!” I squawked as my brand new, clean tunic and skirt got soaked.

The guys’ shocked expressions did not change when I tried to assure them, “It’s cool.  He does this all the time.”  If possible, they looked even more taken aback.  Kind of… horrified, actually.

And then they exchanged a look.  That look.

I frowned.  “Heeeyyy…”

Arokh froze.  “Angie, what is the matter?  Did this bother your stomach?  Are you feeling well?”  He maneuvered me so that I was face to face with him, my hips riding his abs, my booty inches from… something I was not thinking about, not here.

“Ha, yeah, big guy.  Stomach’s all better.”  I patted his arm and tried not to feel him up as I did it.  Promise.  “But I’ll warn you: I’ll probably repeat the yakking again when you touch down this, ah, spacecraft.  How long until we reach your planet?”

“Our planet,” Dohrein corrected with a frown as Arokh proceeded to carry me past them and to his pile of now soaking in a puddle clothes.  They followed us like we had them tethered on strings.  When Arokh set me down and began to dress in his dirty suit and I stepped away to give him room - the guys turned with my movement and I realized it was more like I had them tethered on strings.  Not strange at all, unh uh.

That’s when Crispin toed over a folded bundle: a clean suit.  For Arokh.

He just earned himself major points.  I beamed at him.

He saw my look, and tripped.

Dohrein continued to eye me while he rubbed the back of his neck, then rolled his shoulders.  “You are made sick every time you go up in a ship?”  He carefully, slowly, stretched his beautiful wings, and I was mesmerized.  The colors were incredible.  Upon refolding them though, one almost brushed my arm - and quick as a snake, Arokh’s hand was suddenly blocking between us.  Solidarity and protection was fine and all, but this time I had to shoot him a ‘Chill much?’  Which he totally missed, because he wasn’t looking at me.

He was glaring at Dohrein.

...And so was Crispin.

I shook my head, trying to concentrate on the question.  “Uh, I get sick every time I go up in a plane, but this is the first time I remember being on a ship.”

Arokh broke away to look at me sharply.  “You were not aware during travel before?”

Cue a trio of appalled stares.

“They kept you in stasis an entire flightspan?”

“All of the females?”

“Maybe that was a blessing.” said Arokh.

I was getting nervous now.  “I guess so, to number one and two.  Why?  What happens?”

“Stasis locks your body in a torpor state—“ Crispin began.

“That sounds painful,” I murmured.  Tried not to sound worried.  Failed.

“It’s a deep sleep.” Arokh soothed.  “They would have attached a feeding tube to you and you’d have slumbered still and quiet.”

“Okay, why is that bad?  Do the feeding tubes hurt?” I brushed my hand over my stomach, my mind instantly conjuring images of ragged healing bumps, (nevermind that I’d just scrubbed every inch of myself; there were no gaping holes anywhere) and imagining that I had been stabbed with a ghoulish vacuum hose that shoved liquid foods into my system.

“It’s concerning because the crew would have had no resistance from their Gryfala cargo during the journey.”

“Oh.”  My empty stomach cramped at that knowledge.  I spun around, trying to escape my thoughts, and tried desperately not to imagine… anything.  Not to me.  Not to the others.  Not to imagine what was happening to the others right now.  I heard three distinct puffs of breath that reminded me of the sound Arokh made after scenting the air.  When Arokh pulled me to him and began untangling the last areas of my snarled hair gently with his claws, I soaked up the comfort.

A drum-like rattle started.  Low and thrumming, almost like music.  I swung my head, and found that Dohrein and Crispin were both giving me concerned, empathetic looks.  And they were the source of the sounds.  Purring.  It was sort of like purring.  Hypnotic purring.  I relaxed against Arokh, and my lids were drooping and I didn’t even put up a fuss when he picked me up again and carried me, following Crispin to a room with a huge bed.

And as a side note; if it bothered him at all that my clothing was damp thanks to him - he didn’t complain.

Smart man.

As always, he was just happy to be with me.

Sweet man.

Arokh laid me down gently, then spooned in behind me.  I felt the bed dip behind us just as I dreamily watched Crispin put a knee on the mattress in front of me.

“Oh, Tevek No.”  Arokh said with icy menace.

The purring stopped.  I blinked, and the room came into full focus.  “She is our Gryfala.  We will concede that you can lie on the bed—“

“Thanks.”

“—instead of the floor, but this is an important step in the process of gentling her—”

“You will not gentle her.  She is mine.”

“Are you really going to refuse her hobs bed privileges?”  A harsh scoffing sound.  Dohrein.  “Rakhii, do her a favor by letting her accept us; it will make things easier for her when you have to be broken.”

A dangerous rumble at my back had me surfacing from the happy feels I’d been surfing under.  A loud crash had me bolting up to see Dohrein was no longer on the bed, his body having left twin impressions in the wall where his back had impacted.  He unfurled his wings and shook them angrily, making the frill along the bottom shake.  Pretty as they were, that served as one freaky threat display.  I gripped Arokh’s arm, my nails scrabbling against his smooth scales.  I turned back to see that Crispin had never made to move fully on the bed, but he wasn’t taking his knee off either.  “Rakhii,” he said cautiously.

“Arokh.  His name is Arokh.” I corrected.

Crispin spared me a glance, and gave me an amenable half bow, half nod.  “Arokh.  You can’t mean to fight us at every turn.  This isn’t about you.  Like ‘Rein says, make this easier for her later by making this easy now.”

Dohrein shrugged, the folds of his wings rising above his shoulders giving him a puffed, aggressive look. “If you don’t think you can manage to control yourself, this ship is equipped with Rakhii-grade locks on the bedroom door.  I’m sure you’re aware that it’s recommended for Rakhii to be barred when their princesses aren’t needing them-“  He gave a pointed look at Arokh, “- but try not to beat against it too hard, it’s not rated for a bonded Rakhii.”

If possible, Arokh’s whole body wound even tighter.

“There are other beds on the ship, right?” I asked.

Crispin said, “Rakhii bunks, darling, but that’s not the issue.”

Darling?

“I’m not your darling.”

His eyes were suddenly a little hotter, and his face transformed from sort of aww-shucks-ma’am to pure wolfish.  “Not yet.”  He gave me a wicked smile.  With fangs.

Yeah.  I scooted the fuck back.

Muscles bunching impressively, Arokh reared up over me, caging me in with his arms.  His tail lashed, brushing against my leg briefly but not painfully.  His focus wasn’t on me so I got a great view of the strong cords of his neck pronounced with tension as he growled, “Get out.  Right now.  Or we will fight.  And I will win.”

“You don’t give orders here.”  The tone managed to be as scathing as it was dismissive.

“But she does.  And she doesn’t want you.”

Before they could fire back a retort, I backed my alien up with, “I wouldn’t sleep a wink with you guys in the bed.”  My eyes were on Crispin again, who I could no longer see as the 'safe' boy-next-door I had pegged him for.  He shared a look with Dohrein over our heads, then - still attempting to ignore Arokh as thoroughly as possible, as if his very existence were beneath them – Crispin met my gaze.  Softer now.  Patient.  I narrowed my eyes.

“As you wish.”  Then he pushed off of the bed and sank to the floor.  I waited a moment, peering from around the muscle – really, really nice meaty muscle – of Arokh’s arm.  When Crispin didn’t resurface, I wriggled out and peered over the edge to see that he was stretching out on the floor.  On the other side, I noted that Dohrein had done the same.

I threw Arokh a questioning – and by questioning, I mean it was an “Ummm What the FUCK?” – glance.

He was resting on his knees now, his face like stone.  Resigned.  “They will not forfeit their gentling rights.  They’ve chosen to relax their intensity instead.”

I didn't even try to whisper.  “By sleeping on the floor?”

“A minor discomfort worth suffering for in order to be with you,” he growled so low that it raised gooseflesh on my arms.

“Well, obviously,” I croaked.  I was aiming for a wry, teasing tone.  I missed.

I covered it by reaching to toss a pillow to each guy on the floor, before I moved into the comfort of Arokh’s overheated body.  All that rage had jacked his temperature up so high it felt like he was singeing me.  I didn’t complain when he wrapped an arm around me and tucked me into him and took us down on our sides.  He stroked my back, down my arm, my thigh, in a way that made me think he was doing it as much to reassure himself as he was me.  I let my eyes shut, and willed myself to be calm.

I wasn’t quite unconscious yet when one of the… hobs, as they referred to themselves, softly asked, “Is she asleep?”

I thought about pretending, but Arokh surely knew I wasn’t.  I opened my eyes and stared into his.  After a measured look, he answered them.  “Speak on.”

“In light of the fact that she was kept in stasis, she will need a full physical done.”

“Yes,” Arokh agreed, the scales around his eyes going tight.

Errrm…  I really, really couldn’t afford to imagine what had happened to me when I was forced into a virtual coma and fed by a ghastly tube insert.  I tried to recall how I’d felt physically when I’d woken up in the auction ring with the others.  Had I been sore?  There had been so much to take in, I wasn’t sure if pain would have registered just then.  I wondered if aliens had STDs.  Oh this would be fodder for so many nightmares to come, I thought on a revulsive shudder.

A crooked forefinger popped up my chin a little.  I looked into Arokh’s face when he brought his nose to mine and nuzzled.  You know?  It wasn’t really that strange anymore.  All things considered, anyway.  I closed my eyes, and nuzzled him right back.  It must have surprised him, because he stalled a beat before kissing me hard.  His soothing strokes began to turn into sensual caresses.  I welcomed the solacement that came with his touch.  I locked my dark thoughts in a sound-proofed corner of my mind, and shifted so that I could bring one of my thighs over Arokh’s.

“Her needing smell is…”

“Absolutely divine.”

Arokh’s body went rigid.  I yanked my leg off of him and rolled my lips over my teeth.  We may have only been kissing, but it felt like getting caught having full out sex.  When others could smell some of your more extreme emotions?  No secrets.  And.  Mortifying.  Arokh threaded his fingers carefully through my hair, then applied pressure to the back of my head until my burning face met his chest.

I sighed and rubbed my nose over his smooth scales.  There were definitely worse places to be.

19

AROKH

Angie’s small form was nestled against my front, and as always, I felt immediate peace with her in my arms.

However, this didn’t change the fact that I needed to piss.

I shifted carefully, refusing to wake her even though I needed to hit the head.  I shouldn’t have drank that third rehydrating packet.  Now I wondered if the bastards had plied us with them in the hopes that I’d have to leave her alone more often.

...No.  They honestly hadn’t expected to have me around this long.  A Gryfala elevating a Rakhii over hobs when it came to her care?  It never would have occurred to them.

It wasn’t that I was worried they’d hurt her.  To the contrary; these barely pubescent hoblings were ready to lavish affection on her.  Gentle her.  Even willing to protect her with their lives - from me.

I sent a hard look at Crispin, a look completely missed because he was watching Angie’s back with a soft expression of yearning.  I tried not to be ill about that and instead, focused on his face.  My spines straightened when I realized that without the filter of a killing rage and the fear that they were taking her from me, I was noticing some features.  Was that fur on the edges of his jaws, and his chin?  And were those wrinkles by his eyes?

Come to think of it, I’d noticed Dohrein had slight signs of a more mature age than I’d credited him for too.

I decided it didn’t matter.  So what if they weren’t quite the sniveling, snot-nosed pups straight out of academy like I’d initially thought?  Then yes, they probably had picked up a couple years of advanced fighting and protection training, if they were anything like most hobs.  And maybe, being older than I’d thought, they had a few years’ worth of meat and muscle filling them out, all the better to protect a female with.  I didn’t care.

No matter how wrong I knew the compulsion was, I was intensely glad Angie was ignorant of the proper ways things should be between her station, and mine.  I was enjoying what the two of us had together too much.  Enjoying?  Reveling.  Basking.  Soaking in her sweet concern over me and her attraction to my body.  I’d never been needed before, not like this.  Not until her.

Angie grunted and I started when I realized I’d gripped her to me and had been squeezing.  I loosened my hold and let out an agonized groan.

The hobs were right.  They were going to have to break me from her.

How damaging would it be to my Angie?  I stroked her hair softly.  I had never heard of a Gryfala that didn’t have hobs to console her.  What if we arrived planetside and she rejected them?  She would be devastated and adrift without emotional tethers to anyone.  These two hobs were as good as any.  Without me… without them…  She would be all alone.

My hearts clenched.

Why hadn’t I considered this before?  I was such a machaai.  All of my overreactions to the hobs’ overtures – overtures that were perfectly respectable methods that had been honed over centuries of hob-and-Gryfala courting – had actually done damage.  Angie didn’t trust them now, was even slightly afraid of them.  I needed to fix this.

I gritted my teeth and found that in my agitation, my fangs had started to descend.  I worked at calm until I could trust my voice.  “I need to relieve myself.”

That dick Dohrein was beside me almost before the words finished leaving my mouth.  Eagerness shown in his eyes and I had to quell my urge to beat his face in.  Crispin was scrambling off the floor almost as quickly.  Carefully, I edged my arm out from under Angie’s head.  Crispin’s hand slipped under, cupping her neck and taking over my job from the opposite side.  I levered myself off the bed and with considerable effort, forced my body to walk away as Dohrein moved to Angie’s side and took my place.

Only feet from her, and my body rebelled at the distance between us.  I turned, and stalked out.

I was attempting to ignore my violent shaking as I dried off my hands when Angie’s scream echoed through the hull.  My stomach, already roiling ill at my Gryfala’s absence, heaved - but, instincts in absolute turmoil - I not only managed to stay upright but my body became an Angie-seeking missile.

The flimsy door to the head snapped right off the hinges when I hit it.  I ran full out, my tri toes spreading to keep my body from slipping on the riveted sleek metal flooring.

I snatched Dohrein in a chokehold and was debating on the legalities of snapping a hob’s neck if a Gryfala had technically accepted him.  I could claim it was in defense, but it would be difficult to make anyone believe a hob was harming a Gryfala.  Tevek – even I knew gut-deep that whatever happened, it was done in ignorance.

“Arokh?”

Angie’s call was all that was needed to make me drop the big bastard and move to gather her into my arms.

The reassurance of her touch simultaneously felt amazing and also lashed me with guilt.  I should not have been the one to comfort her.  I growled.  This wasn’t going to be easy.  One scream and all my noble intentions had fled.  Not that screaming was a normal reaction of a Gryfala left with her hobs - not in fear, anyway.  My voice came out harsher than I intended when I barked, “What the tevek did you do to her?”

Dohrein rubbed his throat and glared at me.  I was beginning to believe that he didn’t have much variety in his repertoire of expressions.  And glaring appeared to be his default setting, at least when dealing with me.

Crispin said softly, “We were trying to give her a massage.  Gryfalas are supposed to love them.”

“Clearly, you failed.  Congratulations, you terrified her instead.”  I was snarling.

Instantly, Crispin looked crushed.  Completely crestfallen…

And I… I took a deep breath and yanked on the tip of my ear.

Venting my frustration on him was as sporting as kicking an egg-toothed nestling.  I turned to a much better adversary; Dohrein.  And I don’t know why, but I was surprised that he looked much the same as the other hob.  Creator, they were so earnest.  If I had any baubles to bet with, I’d have wagered they were following some fancy guide that they’d studied and been tested on in their exclusive little school.  Yet here they were, with what I just knew was their first real live Gryfala, (not counting their dams) and courting was not going anything like they’d read about.  I tried to tell myself they were acting with the best of intentions in their desire to care for my Angie – they simply lacked experience.  But tevek!  They could cut their fangs on another.  Not my Angie.

“I am sorry I frightened you, princess.  I didn’t mean to.” Dohrein said solemnly.  He looked as if someone had taken all of his hopes and dreams and formed them into a real live female - and then forced her off of a cliff edge right before his eyes.

I wanted to curl my lip, but a part of me empathized.  And I hated that even more.  Angie was mine.

Crispin murmured, “Try to go back to sleep, veetling.”

Angie, composed now, flicked back her forelock and spoke in a voice that sounded a bit strained. “Imagine that!  I’m all recharged.  I think I closed my eyes for a good three minutes; where I’m from, that’s almost a cat nap.”

Lifting her face ridges, she looked to me and widened her eyes.  “So what’s on the agenda?”

The silence that followed was loaded and uncomfortable to the extreme.

Cautiously, Dohrein asked, “Do you feel well enough to have a medscan?”

She grimaced.  “Do I have to have any shots?”

Crispin’s brows knotted in confusion.

Her lips twisted.  “Inoculations?”

“Ah.  You might if the scans show you haven’t been protected.  Do you know what you were given by your captors?”

“You determined I was in deep turpor-stasis, whatever, remember?  How would I know?”

“I meant your captivity before you were brought to the auction planet.”

“I wasn’t a captive – I was free.”  She seemed to be weighing something.  She inhaled, then slowly, ever so carefully, she enunciated, “On Earth.”

“Unless there is a settlement of Gryfalas somewhere in a far off galaxy that we don’t know about, you were stolen and raised by aliens, Angie.”  Dohrein paused.  “Of course the fact that you were with a great number of other Gryfala matching your description – pinioned, defanged, and unable to speak our language – does raise that very possibility,” he mused.

“Without a doubt, I know for certain that—“ Angie broke off, seeming to swallow her words.  “Whatever.  Let’s go do this scan thing, and then you can get it over with and stick me because we all know that’s what has to happen here, right?”

Not entirely following all her words, we are still able to process her meaning and I feel fire lick up my throat.  The other two males wear keen expressions of hope.

“You would be willing?”  Dohrein asked dubiously.

No! I wanted to snarl.  But I couldn't.  Her choice.  It was hers.  Still, I was powerless to stop my body from tensing, preparing–

“To…” she trails off, catching something in their expressions.  “Hold.  Up.  Let me guess, that’s an alien idiom!  I meant ‘stick me’ with a needle, you know – the inoculations – nothing,” she swallows and her cheeks go red, “nothing sexual.”

Dohrein’s countenance goes dark but Crispin smiles sheepishly at her and says, “Ah.  Follow us then.”  They lead the way to a tidy little medbay.  I glance at the floor and see that each of Angie’s bare footprints leave a mark for a beat before the trace heat dissipates from the surface and they disappear.

Such perfect, cute little feet, I think.

Nothing like mine.

She’s nothing like me at all, really.  But I bet the hobs’ would be the perfect masculine counterpart; a match, just like their other features to her tiny feminine ones.  I’ve never paid attention.

Angie peers at the instruments and machinery with a heavy dose of suspicion.  I place a palm along her spine and press her towards the gray flat screen.  “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes narrow at the equipment now mere clicks from her nose.  I smile at her wariness.  She is pretty fetching when she gets nervous.  “It’ll be fine.  This won’t hurt.”

“Better not,” she mumbles.  But despite her grudging tone, she trusts me enough to close her eyes.  The screen flashes a brief hololight beam into her lids and the data panel begins to fill, all the while slowly moving the scanbeam down her body.

With an air of deep, deep regret, Crispin nearly cringes when he whispers, “Actually, it would be best to take a blood sample now.”

Her eyes snap open.  “I knew it!”

Dohrein smirks.  “Gryfalas are all the same.  Terrified of tiny metal instruments.”

“Has anyone told you that you are kind of a jerk?” Angie says.

“A what?”

“Your heel, please?”  Crispin asks as he bends low, and before she can even process his question, he has her pinched in his palm and her squeak signals his success.

“Did you just stab my foot?”  She is fairly quivering with outrage.  I rub one of her wingless shoulders.  She glowers at the collection tool he is now moving to a small machine.  “Did you know he was going to do that?” She hisses at me.

“No.” I lie solemnly.

When I catch Dohrein’s smug expression I want to punch him, but I settle for baring my fangs.

When his visage only grows more superior, I close my mouth and glare at him.

He mouths ‘Inoculation time’ and points to the main screen.

I gape.

Angie… Angie hasn’t been protected against anything.

Thankfully, as I take a closer look I see the med bay appears fully stocked, with carefully labeled vials and bottles, probably prepped in the hopes they’d rescue an auction Gryfala - and in fact, they did.

Crispin grabs the talon of one of his wings and shifts on his feet.  It appears to be an unconscious gesture that I’d be willing to bet is a nervous habit.  Dohrein stands stoically though, and stares.  At me.

I feel Angie’s gaze on me now too.  “What is it?” she asks warily.

Years of sizing up opponents has me able to see that Crispin doesn’t have what it takes to win this fight.  Dohrein?  Perhaps.

But even I don’t want to take on Angie.

Unfortunately, there is no way she is going to stand in passive acquiescence and allow either of these males close enough to administer what she needs.

I hold out my hand to the hobs.  A brief flash of relief passes over Crispin’s face before he whirls to select the necessary vials, then searches until he finds a packet containing the large syringes.

I drop Angie’s hand so that I can accept the gloves Dohrein so helpfully offers, then I take the items from Crispin.  He firms his chin, his eyes large and his expression open and grateful - no doubt relieved beyond words to be spared from doing this part himself.

I assemble the first syringe, affixing the needle with deft twists.

“Oh my-- that’s… that’s your shot?  That’s for horses!  Or - more like elephants, is it glowing?  Why is it glowing?  Oh no, no, no - is there something moving in it?”  Her eyes squint as she peers at it.  “Spiky… creepy… is that a caterpillar?”  She howls, an abrupt, angry sound that causes the hobs, and even me, to shift uncomfortably, and I shake out my ears as I advance and she continues to back away from me.  “Be calm, female.  It’s just a vector.”

“No way.  No!  You’ve got to be kidding me!  You have perfected fuhreeking space travel but you haven’t figured out how to turn simple vaccinations into a nasal spray or something?  Without a bug in it?  Seriously?”

I tug a mobile tray towards me so that I can carefully set down the filled syringe.

She relaxes.

Slowly, I sweep her hair over her shoulder, and she tries to lunge forward – but I capture her nape and pinch the skin there.  Without any practice at this, I have managed to grasp enough with a firm enough hold that she doesn’t thrash much.  My first try!  I do not give myself more than a blink to pat myself on the horns though.  Quickly, I grab up the syringe.

“Wait!  What are you--”

Her scream of protest makes my hearts hurt.

Wings are suddenly in my face and I jerk back to avoid touching them.  Not because it will affect me, but because I am averse to having any trace of their dust on my skin at all.  Already beyond agitated, I snarl a warning and glare.

“Not the neck, Rakhii!  She’s a Gryfala.”

An aggravated whirring rage-bugle builds in my sinus cavity.  “Where then?”

“Her… rump.” Crispin says, tone already remorseful for the act we’ve yet to commit as he delivers the bad news.  At Angie’s enraged shrieking and renewed (although entirely pointless) struggling, I can tell it didn’t calm her reservations.  I bat their wings out of my way and when I can see Angie again, her expression wounds me.

I harden my resolve, grit my teeth with a click, and make a whirling motion with my finger.

"I can't do this - this isn't a good idea, see-"

"It's fine.  Long tested."

"That's the thing!" she begins.

"If you'll turn..."

She whimpers into her hands - then rips them away from her face as if she can't trust me not to grab her while she's not looking.

She squeals when she sees that I'd almost had her.

She bounces away fearfully.  “Where I’m from, we get shots in the arm - can’t I do that?” she pleads.

The arm?  My hands close into fists, my insides twisting, and I hate how her anxiety creates a mirror in my own emotions.  And unfortunately, my cluelessness is only exacerbating her panic over what should be a simple procedure.  I look to the hobs in exasperation.

“You two need to do this.  Not me.”  I don’t know what I am doing when it comes to her care, and this fact rubs on me terribly.

Neither one makes a move.

I shove the tray away.  I look into Angie’s eyes when I address them, my voice ragged, “Can we do it later?”

She collapses against me in relief.  “Yes.  Yes, please, far, far, far later is good.  Really good.”  She is shaking, and the smell of her fear stokes dangerous instincts in my body.  I hold her tighter.

I try to tease her back into her normally good humor.  “You act like a frightened fledgling.”

She doesn’t remove her face from my shoulder so her voice comes out muffled when she replies, “I’m not mature enough to feel even the tiniest bit guilty.  The shot was HUGE, Arokh.  Just no!”

The words go on a loop in my brain.  I’m not mature enough, I’m not mature enough…

When my gaze locks on the hobs, I find they look almost as relieved for a reprieve as Angie.  Perhaps they didn’t hear her words.  Or maybe they aren’t surprised to hear them.  Either way, I can’t make myself ask them how old she is.  I already know that Angie can’t tell me - she has no concept of our time.

All signs point to her being close to maturity.

But close is not always close enough.

Have I… corrupted an innocent?

I feel ill.

“It must be done before we reach planetside,” Crispin cautions.

I just nod, and run my palms over Angie’s mane and back.  She is crying a little and I am dying inside and she is babbling thank yous, and she ends it with, “h’Rinok!”

We blink.  That’s a word from an old language.  From a planet on the far side of our home galaxy, and it burnt up moons ago.  I break the silence saying, “That has been happening sometimes.  I think something is wrong with her translator.  It gets mixed up with other languages and drops words - and some of the phrases she uses have syntax that makes no sense.”

Angie goes very still in my embrace.

“We can add complete files for our language onto her translator chip.  Like an upgrade.  That will fill and correct any gaps.  While we are at it, we can make sure to plug in any languages that are missing.”

“How do we do this?” I ask.

Crispin refolds his wings, looking anxious.

Already, I know that this will not be ideal.

“We temporarily remove her translator, perform the uploads, and reinstall it.”

“You want to take it out of my head?  And then put it back in?  It hurt bad enough the first time, now I have to do it twice more?”  Angie is wailing by the end of her speech.

You’d think we were beating her instead of performing helpful, essential procedures.

“We have something for the pain,” Dohrein intones, his face almost a perfect mask of stoicism.  But his wing talons are wringing together behind his head.

“Not another shot…” Angie whines, as if she actually received a first one at all.

And I have to grudgingly give him credit because he takes the unenviable task of becoming the one she fears; he is already moving, gloving up then deftly filling a syringe.  “This one has a mild paralytic and a numbing agent to numb your ear for translator removal,” he says almost dispassionately.  But even I can tell this is costing him.

“What?  No more shots!  No paralyzing SHOTS!”

“Sweethearts, you won’t want to feel its removal.”  I murmur.

I look to the other two for backup and click my teeth when her plaintive eyes and begging words cause their expressions to finally crumble.  I growl.  “How do hobs manage to perform any medical treatments when they melt at her every piteous look?”

Dohrein’s wings snap straight, and Crispin gives her his hand, and Angie…

Angie leaves me to cling to it.

I think one of my hearts stops beating.

Crispin just earned himself the most adorable leech in the galaxy.  He is instantly thrilled with this result but my desire to rip his wings off was perhaps only surpassed by Dohrein’s clearly visible feelings of betrayal.  Because Angie is looking at him as if he is a monster.

I am perversely glad not to be the only one.

He sighs, covering his eyes with one hand.  He holds out the syringe to me with the other.

I swallow down venom.  But I take it.  “You are already aware that this will help fix the breach between our languages.”

Her mouth opens, then shuts.  Then she shouts, “I don’t care!  I’ll keep it the way it is.  You will NOT come near me with any more sharp things!”

Her beseeching gaze is causing me to falter in my resolve.  I lock my eyes on the syringe and prepare to lose her favor.  “No.”

“No?!”

“No.”

Both hobs looked aghast.  I am ignoring a direct command.  I know the hob way is to continue to wheedle and explain, and reason.  But they don’t know Angie like I do.  She is stubborn.  To them though, it seems I am overstepping my bounds.

“But it’s my body!  I am not giving you permission to-“

“I am not asking.”

I say it firmly, even while my hearts shrivel.  Her expression; crushed.  Panicked.  Betrayed.  “Angie,” I say with a sigh and I see a flicker on her face where, for one moment, she thought I was relenting again.  Until I grab her mane in my fist.

“Hey!” she cries and the bay erupts with shouting.

“UNHAND HER!” this from besotted Crispin, still clutching her to his side where she’d latched herself.

“Cease!  Rakhii-!”

I sense Dohrein moving behind me, but the fact that neither actually attempt to stop me is telling.  They agree this is a necessary procedure.  They are merely reacting in a protective manner to her distress.

Her entire body flinches when I swab a sterilizer the moment just before I slip the needletip under her skin and press the plunger.  Hobs might grow up learning of all the ways to serve and please their Gryfala, but Rakhii in the gladiator class learn to manage medical procedures on fellow fighters and themselves.  We are taught to be quick and decisive, and we learn early that while many tasks in life are unpleasant, they are imperative.

I’ve sewn up my own scales more times than I can count and this?  This should be easy.

If I could only avoid withering under the look she is now leveling at me.

I turn away and act as if I am assembling the instruments I’ll need, but they are all in place.  I am merely giving the area a chance to numb.  And in truth, I am giving myself time to recover from her expressive emotions, which are tearing my hearts ragged.

“There, there.” Crispin rubs a thumb over her brow and coos reassuringly.  Teveking coos!  Dohrein, clearly jealous of their closeness, stiffly pats her shoulder.

Then his expression turns curious as he feels the area her wings should be.

I try to ignore them as I shove forward and angle the light beam for better illumination behind her ear.  “You’ll need to be held very still.”

Both hobs look reluctant to restrain her, and perhaps even a little sick at the thought.  Tentatively, Crispin ventures, “Wouldn’t it be better to…” he strokes a lock of her mane and tugs it over her other shoulder, out of the way.

I want to rip off his fingers.  And feed them to him.

Slowly.

“You have an alternative?  I am ready to hear it.”

Instead of speaking, he begins to purr.

And then both hobs are catching her when she goes limp.

The realization is like a punch to my innards.

I am clearly underutilizing their training.  As much as it galls to admit it, they have had years of schooling in how best to handle this beautiful, captivating, slightly high-strung female of their species.

My bullish, brutish ways highlight my rough, unsuitable upbringing; Gryfala-free, useless and ignorant where her needs are concerned.  I am nothing like her.  And as Angie sprawls in their arms – safe, languid, no fear of anything now - I can see her similarities to them even more than before.  I see their expressions as they stare down at her.  Ready to fulfil her every need, and possessing the tender enough touch to complete her every whim to satisfaction.

Unlike me.

She is a Gryfala.  I am Rakhii.  My place is at the floor by her bed, serving when she calls, protecting her when I’m not fighting for rank in the ring.  Never to rise above the superior hobs.

I shake off my regrets, and move in to peel the translator out of her skin.  I feel the reverberation of the hobs’ purring in my instruments as I work, as if they were tuning forks instead of scalpel and picks.  My rooting causes her to whimper even through the analgesic and hob-hypnosis.  This blasted chip is set in deeper than I even knew, and I silently curse when I am required to dig a bit in order to free its prongs from her flesh.  “Sorry,” I murmur.

But Angie doesn’t respond to me at all.

Dohrein shifts the data to a main screen in the bay so we can all see.  Crispin readjusts Angie’s arms so that they are no longer dangling in the air as they cradle her between them, Crispin still running his purr.

I want to snatch her from them.

Only, I can’t give her this.  When I purr, she isn’t rendered into a stupor.  Normally, I’d say that’s a good thing but for now, she needs them.

Not me.

Dohrein taps screens one handed, shrinking and expanding and dragging boxes of information as he surveys the findings.  “A few of these are the common languages the slavers tend to speak, although there are some strange files on here.  Must be collected from assorted auction “rarities”.  Obviously, our language is on here but – ah, the reason why we’re seeing the limitations and the program plunking in borrowed words from other tongues, is this version is designed specifically with a large command dictionary for… pets?  Creator, with this, she can recognize thirty-four versions of the word 'heel'.”

Both hobs swivel their heads to stare at me.

I feel my horn bases heat.  “I didn’t exactly have an alternative at my disposal.  You have to admit, it’s performed well thus far.”

They don’t complain though.  Instead, Dohrein mumbles to himself as he begins typing, muttering something about their system downloading from the auction chip in order to update their own language data file – because one of the languages is the one she was raised speaking.  This action will have far reaching results; all hobs will receive an update to their chips, and that will make rescue of the other auctioned Gryfala a little smoother.

And credit will go to this hob for being the first to complete it.

Having access to what he needs, he hands back the chip, and Crispin and I prepare for the replacement of it into Angie’s head.  When Dohrein taps to open a file, I glance over to see characters that make no sense to me suddenly filling the screen.

I didn’t notice until then that the purring had stopped.

Angie goes wild.

When we don’t understand her anymore, she speaks louder, gestures more.

“Activate remotely?” Crispin asks, expression strained as he sees her distress.

Dohrein nods, mesmerized eyes not leaving the pleasantly bouncing body in front of him.

I snap my teeth.  They both leap to attention, and the reinsertion of the translator is only a little less traumatic.  Once in though, it is a relief to be able to understand even Angie’s curses.  Rubbing her ear, she quickly turns her attention to the screen again.

“Hey! That’s French!  That might be… German? Wait, there’s mine!  English.”  Angie puts a hand to her mouth in wonder.

Dohrein looks at her clinically.  “You are recognizing different dialects from where you were contained?”

“Yes!”  She bites her lip in a way I’ve come to recognize is a sign she is reluctant about something.  “Well, languages.”

The grim contours of his face manage to reposition enough to convey confusion.  “They don’t all speak the same one?”

“It’s a big place.  Lots of different cultures spread out across a big blue planet.”

Crispin cuts in, looking down adoringly at the female still in his arms.  “It is concerning then that they managed to have several large file speech samples from the planet you were on.”

“Why?  And who controls that?”

He inhales slowly, never breaking eye contact.  He looks like he can’t believe his good fortune right now, to hold the entirety of a Gryfala’s attention.  “Whoever manufacturers the translation software uploads, I’d venture.  Slavers, most likely.  But this must mean they have taken several beings from this colony prior to your abduction.”

I am stalking over to rip Angie from Crispin’s hold when Dohrein leans back and declares, “I’ve never seen this before.”

The results from her bloodwork are complete and on the main screen now.

And when all of us are staring at it, trying to piece together what is in front of us, Angie backs out of Crispin’s arms and nearly climbs my body.

And I don’t care anymore what the computer says.  Because Angie chose me, Angie is holding onto me, and her head is tucked into my shoulder.

It feels like absolution.

I bask in this until Crispin utters a horrified, “She’s not a Gryfala.”

20

AROKH

“Angie, you say you are called human.”

Dohrein is thumbing great swipes across the screen, rapidly searching for this race and apparently not having any success.

Her lips twist upward.  “Yeah.  I’m what my… ah, people… call a human.  The other women I was with are just like me.”

Crispin’s eyes are glazed over.  “And there is an entire planet of females.  An entire planet.  Fascinating.”

Angie opens her mouth, then closes it.

Dohrein is running his free hand up the back of his head, still taking it in.  “I’ve submitted her information in order to catalog human as a newly identified species.  I’ll Comm the findings to the search parties so they are aware.”

Angie’s fingers are flexing against the muscle of my forearm, nails scraping intermittently along my scales, and I like it.  She addresses Dohrein.  “Search parties?”

“Bands of bachelors disembarked when word reached us that Gryfalas were being auctioned.”

“Will they stop looking when they find out we aren’t Gryfala?”  she asks worriedly.  “They still need to be rescued!” She looks at them pleadingly and I feel my face form into a scowl.  I do not like to see my female begging other males for favors, but if she must do it, then they had better do what she is asking.

I needn’t have bothered to worry.

Hobs are notorious for spoiling their Gryfala, and apparently, a female… human – the word is so alien, and so bland, and does not fit my Angie at all - is no different.

Understandably, Crispin has gone to mush for Angie’s begging.  But it is seeing curmudgeonly Dohrein reduced to a poleaxed stupor that has me suddenly roaring with laughter.

His expression darkens.  “What is it, Rakhii?” he bites out.

“You should see your face-“  Abruptly realizing that I don’t want to cause him to refuse Angie, I cut off my teasing immediately.  “It’s alright, she has that effect on all of us it seems.”

Angie pushes air out from behind her teeth with enough force to make a pffft sound.  I think I can guess her meaning so I say, “I can deny you nothing, sweet one.”

Dohrein sneers.

I want to ask him if the others will attempt to rescue the humans, but I know Angie will have more success with him than I, so I wait.  Angie cannot.  “Well?  Will they abandon the search now if they find out we aren’t your Gryfalas?  Do you know what is happening to them right now?”  Her eyes shimmer then spill over and suddenly she has three males immured by the power of her tears.

Purring erupts from Crispin until my fist connects with his shoulder.  “Quit it.”  I don’t want them to lull her horizontal every time she gets upset.  His wings snap up, but he doesn’t retaliate.

“I can promise you,” Dohrein says slowly, “They will not turn your kind away if they find them.”

Angie looks hopeful.  “Really?”

“They won’t be able to,” he mutters.

Crispin gazes down at her longingly.  “Your resemblance to Gryfala is uncanny.  They’ll act before they can determine there is a difference in our species.  Once they are made aware, they still won’t be able to stop themselves from rescuing them.  Also; do not fret about your future on the flight side.  Your loss of wings evokes an extreme protective response in males.”

She climbs off of me and brushes herself off while saying, as if it is of no consequence, “I never had wings.”

That elicits a collective “Aww.”

“No – I mean I don’t have them because I’m not supposed to.  Humans don’t have wings.”

Dohrein looks contemplative.  “How do males mark and ready their females for sex if they have no wings?”

She blinks.  “You… with your wings?”

Dohrein unfurls his and quicker than my eyes can track - he enfolds Angie, making her disappear from view as he clutches her in a winglock.

21

ANGIE

Crispin, for all that he looks like a laid back surfer dude (with freakin’ wings) can pull off a stunningly effective glower.

Nothing that could rival Arokh’s reaction though.  Now he roars again, and I think the first one is why Dohrein let me go, but this time he looks unaffected.  No, that’s not true; he looks smug – the bastard – but he acts unaffected by Arokh’s threatening anyway.

Crispin’s wings flare, the very sharp looking talons at the tops flexing menacingly and I think Dohrein should be more worried about him.  Apparently, inking me was a no-no.  And that is just what happened.  I am covered in this glimmery coating, the colors and patterns a perfect match for his wings.  I start to rub a finger over one of the marks on my arm but Dohrein utters a pained plea; “Please, do not,” and grabs my hand.

Arokh charges forward - but it’s Crispin that knocks Dohrein away from me.  Then he looks hard at my skin.  I look down again too.  “Pretty,”  I remark dreamily.  It looks like I am coated in mica powder.

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“I must mark her.”  Crispin says.  His voice is all wrong.  It comes out grating, angry.  He is no gentle, relaxed boy anymore.

Arokh’s growl is like the crack of a lashed whip; stunning and frightening.

“Come to me.”  Crispin says.  “Please.” His tone is so commanding that I actually find myself taking a step to him.  Arokh’s growl gets louder but my step was apparently all the permission Crispin needed; he too wraps me up in his wings and once again my world goes dark as I am smooshed into a very well muscled, very muscly, very… did I mention these guys were ripped?  I think I must be having a hotflash.  Heavens these are really good looking men.  Males.  Hobs.  Whatever!

Hands stroke down my back, softly and just once.  I hear and feel Crispin inhale deeply, his nose pressed to the top of my head.

Then I am peeled backward and meeting yet another amazing chest.  “Wow,” I slur.  And then I giggle.  “I feel drunk.”

Arokh is breathing hard and clutching me harder.  “You are not happy, big guy,” I inform him helpfully.  Then I laugh.  “I’m sorry,” I say.  “I don’t know what is so funny!”

“It’s the markings.”  Arokh sounds more displeased than… I can’t think of what.  He is the most displeased male right now that I have ever met, I think.  But I don’t say this out loud.  Or maybe I don’t say it loudly.

“Shhh,”  Arokh soothes.  “The giddiness will pass.”

“We should move her to the bed,”  Dohrein says.

I am bent backward when Arokh lunges for him – still holding me to his chest.  “You.  Will.  Not.  Touch. Her.”  Touch comes out more of a snarl than a word and I tell Arokh that too.  But he ignores me.  His fist is still gripping Dohrein’s suit.  “You don’t know how your marking will affect her – she isn’t a Gryfala, remember?”

“She is reacting like one,” Dohrein’s voice is stubborn.  And I like it.  He raises a brow at my giggle, then holds out his hand in a “see that?” gesture.  “Do you really want to sate her on this floor a few minutes from now?  The bed is going to be the most comfortable for her.”

Stumbling a little on the tips of my toes, I trace my fingers along Arokh’s neck, feeling his scales contract and ripple even as his body goes still.  His shoulder is so meaty with muscle and fuck if I care about the fact that he has scales instead of skin.  I give him a quick nip before laving the sting away.  “Mmm.”

I’m almost taken to the floor when Arokh’s knees start to buckle.  He locks them and his hands grip me harder to keep me upright.  “Whew!” I shout.  “That was close.”  I lick him again.

“Tevek,” he bites out before he shoves Dohrein backward.  My whole world is thrown on its side when he bends and loops and arm behind my knees.

“Overboard!  Mermaid off the port bow!” I’m the happy drunk, in case you were wondering.

After a beat, Arokh shakes his head.  “Hang on, sweethearts.”  His voice is a little rough, but he says it into my ear and he doesn’t sound angry.  Not at me anyway.  “Which is good.  I don’t want you angry at me.”

He slows.  “I am not angry with you, princess.”

“Good!”  I smack a kiss on him, aiming for his lips but I end up hitting his chin.  It’s okay.  I will keep trying.

“I am going to kill Dohrein though,” he says almost conversationally.

We reach the door to the bed area of the ship and I yelp when Arokh jostles me too roughly as he tries to open it.  “Don’t drop me!”

“Here,” says Crispin and he budges in to push the door open for him.  “Will you consider letting me-“

“Haven’t you done enough?”  Arokh is back to being furious.  I sigh.  Huh.  I can see his pulse and it pumps even faster when I breathe on his skin.  I do it again.

“Get out!”  Arokh yells it.

“So rude,” I say and I throw my arm around the back of his neck and slide my hands up until I touch his horns.  He dumps me on the bed and I screech, “Hey!”

He backs away from the bed like it is on fire.  I start to pout playfully but all of a sudden I’m not feeling so good.  I put my hands low on my abdomen and press.  I suck in a breath at the stab of pain.

“You are hurting, princess?”

“Yeah.  Cramps, I guess.”  Normally I’d be embarrassed to talk to a guy about anything to do with down south problems, but it isn’t uncomfortable talking to Arokh.  We’ve been through too much together, been too intimate for this to even hit the radar of awkward.  I’m still turned on, but now my insides are starting to ache.  I try to stretch out on my side to get more comfortable, but it doesn’t help.  “Something is wrong.  I feel really funny.  But bad-funny, not good.”

Arokh approaches carefully, climbing onto the bed and resting by my feet.  “I know, sweetling.”  He puts a hand on my thigh.

A pulse goes through me, making me writhe on the bed in agony.  “Agghhh!”

“Tevek,” he breathes.  “Move to your back.”

I do as he commands.  When his hand begins rubbing, I squirm.  He moves upward, stroking - which both feels wonderful and, confusingly, also causes the pangs on my insides to increase.  When Arokh starts pushing my skirt further up my thighs I gasp, “No!”  Now he is interested?  “No.  It hurts.”

Quickly, he says, “I know, little one.”

Then he looks like he's ready to bite off his own tongue.

“What?”  I whimper.

His voice is impossibly deep.  “I know how to make it better.”

“You’re wrong.”  I shove at his hands.  With one, he nabs both of mine, and with the other, he grips my mons, his huge palm covering it, applying pressure in just the right spot.  I go still, the pain in my abdomen instantly heating to… pleasure.  Something freaky is going on.  I don’t–

“Trust me.”  He squeezes a little and forces his palm downward making me moan and shift restlessly.  But not in pain.  If I don’t hurt as long as he’s touching me, then I am all on board.

The ridges ringing the base of his horns rasp my inner thighs as he suddenly delves his face into my pussy.  I shriek, something like “Unnh!”  My legs try to clamp to his head but his horns jut out wider than his face so he is in no danger of being crushed-by-thigh.  Built in face saver for pussy diving?  Awesome.  I just have to block the tips from taking out my eyes; no biggie here.

“Don’t stop!” I order him on a wail.  Dimly, some part of my brain is trying to be embarrassed that there are two guys just on the other side of this door, no doubt able to hear my every gasp and moan and scream but I am too far gone to care.  I hold onto his horns, keeping the tips well away from my face and I’ll care later (maybe) after Arokh helps me come – come harder than I’ve ever experienced before if the building waves of pleasure are anything to go by.

His super special, incredible, award-worthy tongue flutters over my clit a moment before his lips close over it.  And he sucks.

I scream.

He makes me come once, twice, three times and I think I maybe even lose count.  They roll, one over the other as I writhe, and moan, and beg unintelligibly.  My body is racked with shudders so hard that I see stars like I’ve only ever heard about.  I think I even black out.  When my eyes open again I am still twitching all over, a jolt striking through my body and orgasm-heavy limbs with every languid lick of Arokh’s tongue.

Through heavy lidded eyes I look at the giant shoulders and massive horns and handsome face between my legs, one of my thighs now limply thrown over his shoulder.  And I quiver.  Arokh’s eyes are molten and full of the promise of more amazing sex.  “Please…” I beg, panting.  “It doesn’t hurt anymore, and if you’d just ignore the fact that I’m as weak as a newborn right now…” I’m rambling, so the expression that races across his face doesn’t register.

He releases my thighs so suddenly that they fall open - rudely, I might add.  But I don’t think I could close them if I wanted to.  My pussy is still quaking and now there is a fierce, empty ache building in my core.

But I know he can fix that.  As he rears back to sit on his haunches, the bulge behind his armored fly is visible.

So I am shocked speechless when he strokes my thigh…

And leaves the room.

22

AROKH

“She needs us?”

I bristle at Crispin’s hopeful face, and even more hopeful question.

“I sated her,” I snarl, my eyes narrowed to slits.

A snort makes me swing my gaze to Dohrein.  His brows rise in challenge and he slowly drawls, “That was ...swift.”

I want to lunge for his throat, but my body is locked, barring their way to the door.  I can’t make myself go any farther from her side.  Besides.  Even if it were possible for me to move, these two would take the advantage then and go in to Angie.

Would she accept them?

Of course she would.  Her body would make her, even if her head has her still wary of the pair.

“I didn’t breed with her,” I clarify.

“Why not?”  Crispin looks astonished.  Then he inhales, as if he was afraid to smell her on me before, and suddenly isn’t now.  Now that he is hoping he has a chance with her in her desperate state.  My Angie.

“I didn’t know before - she acted like…”  I turn my head so that I can slam my horns into the wall.  When I regain my ability to speak, I deliberately say the words that make me desperate for another shower.  Make me desperate for her to have another shower.  The things I did to her… “She said she isn’t… mature.”  Disgust over my actions pools in my guts.

Dohrein’s jaw drops and his eyes bug.  Then understanding dawns.  “She meant that she wasn’t emotionally mature enough – to handle the stress of the inoculation without crying like a fledgling - you machaai.”

I stare at him stupidly.

As much as I am loathe to admit it, these two were raised by a Gryfala, have grown up around a Gryfala, have studied Gryfala.  My Angie is so like their kind; they thought she was a Gryfala.

Dohrein’s lip is still tugged up slightly when he finally speaks.  “Let me guess.  This is the first Gryfala you’ve met.”

“She’s human,” I correct snidely.

“Then humans are very much like Gryfala,” he marvels.  “And if she were Gryfala, our Angie is prime for breeding.”  His voice had gone husky with that last word.

Our??  I growl a warning in response.

“We could smell you on her already, Rakhii; what is one more mounting before you are broken?  Unless you are afraid she won't accept you now.  And in that case, step aside.”

Crispin had leaned so that he could see around me, and was staring at the door hungrily, tranced, when he said, “Why don’t you ask her?  Unless you are afraid she won’t accept you now.”

“And I say again - in that case, step aside,” Dohrein repeats eagerly.

My lips are peeling back from my fangs when Crispin tilts his head, his eyes still locked on the door like a female hot for her males is on the other side of it.  “Do you smell that?”

I hiss, “What do you mean smell, I can still taste-“

“No – he’s right.”  Dohrein’s mouth opens as he inhales, trapping the scent of emotions in his upper palette.

And I do too.

And my hearts clench.

“You are a fool,” Dohrein accuses.  He looks at me like I am the scum that collects on to the sides of a waste vac tube.

Apparently, I am a fool.  I should have just asked her.  I knock them back with my tail when I whirl around, praying I can fix the harm I have caused.

23

ANGIE

I don’t look up right away when the door opens.  I feel so sorry for myself.

And disconcerted.  And rejected.  Basically, all the verbs.  The way he played my body and then just left me…  It had pity-fuck vibes all over it - without the full fucking experience - like he couldn’t even bring himself to finish the pity fuck because he felt so much pity for me.

Ouch.

Is it because the other two hugged me?  Now he’s grossed out?

Fucking aliens.  Or, I guess, anti-fucking aliens.

I turn my head away so that I can discreetly swipe under my eyes.

“Angie.”

I blink until I think I’ve got it together, then I hold my eyes open really, really wide so that I can look at him without feeling like I need windshield wipers for my face.

And when I look at him, I see regret in his expression.

I feel my chin quiver.  And windshield wipers for my face would be really handy right now.

His voice comes out rough and breaks when he breathes “Sweetling…”

My breath chokes in my throat, making that weird gag-sob noise that telegraphs that your heart is totally shattering and your man is a douche.  And he’s not even mine.  Even though I stupidly wanted him to be.  He’s an alien – or I’m an alien, but either way, we are just too different to make this work because I have no idea what is going on.

When I see his hand nearing my cheek, I pull back.  “I d-don’t want your-rr-r-“ snort-gag-sob “-stupid pity!  You-“ Ugh, why does your voice wobble when you’re trying to get important words out at crucial times like this?  “-don’t want me, you made that plenty cleeear,”  I swallow, and my throat is shaking so I give up talking and my eyes are hot and I can feel them swelling and I am one to ugly cry with copious amounts of tears and snot so I cover my face and rise up enough to turn my whole body away from the door he’s still standing in front of, still bent towards me like he wants to comfort me – me, his ugly alien urchin, who has latched on and grown ridiculous, misplaced romantic feelings for him even though we’re not even close to being the same kind of beings.  And I didn’t even care.  But maybe he does.

I hear what I assume is the big, heavy door lock drop into place with a hollow thud.

“I don’t want you.”

“F-f-fuck!”  I whip my head to stare at him over my shoulder.  “I didn’t think you were such a-“ wet hiccup “-d-d-dick!”

“I don’t want you.” He repeats, just staring back at me.  He doesn’t look sorry anymore – actually, he doesn’t look like anything.  It’s like his whole expression has been washed.

Fine.  Screw him.  I try to sniff like I don’t care, but it comes out like a brokenhearted sniffle instead.  Fucking crying fucking sucks!  I slam my hands on my knees and glare at the side of the room his stupid ass isn’t standing in and try to reign it in.  Yeah, it doesn’t work.

“I DON’T WANT YOU?” Arokh suddenly roars.  I startle, and fall to my side and I twist so fast that I bounce once.  I hear what sounds like a heated argument explode right outside the door, and I kind of hope they break in because Arokh actually looks angry – at me.  I’ve never seen it before and frankly; I don’t care for it.  My hand slides to a pillow, which I clutch like a weapon.  Without thinking it through, I launch it as his head.

He arches his neck so that it thuds against his horns, before it lands harmlessly on the floor.

I try to growl in outrage, but I have the choking hiccups now so it doesn’t sound very menacing and, weirdly, a maniacal laugh bubbles over my spasming diaphragm as I launch the next pillow, making me sound like a hyena that is in sore need of the Heimlich.

This time he angles so that one horn spears the pillow, but I’m ready so I launch a third right as I throw the fourth and it is this last one that catches him in the face.  “Jerk!” I shriek.

I scream when Arokh’s huge, huge body is suddenly on top of me.

That Rakhii-grade lock the guys went on about before?  It holds as Crispin and Dohrein pound against the door.  Arokh’s breath is hot and his face is menacing when he breathes, “I have given up everything for you – and you don’t think that I want you.”

Uncomfortable, dark, thick, suffocating fear settles on my insides.  I am actually afraid.  Afraid of Arokh.  I haven’t been this scared of him since that first night when he took me to his room after rescuing me.  He sucks in a breath, and I see him flick his tongue like he does when he scents my mood.

“No,” he whispers, and I flinch when his hand is suddenly right there - but he only cradles my face.  He shifts his knees, which are on either side of my hips, further caging me in.  “Angie, no – I would never hurt you,” he vows, and he spears his fingers through my hair, wrapping his big palm around the back of my head and shoving my face into his neck.

I’m suddenly shaking, my body starting to relax under his even as my mind is still reeling, thinking, ‘I don’t really know this alien at all’.

“Shhh,” he soothes, and levers off of me, pulling me up with him to rock me in his lap, and it’s then that I realize I’m crying again, but silent tears this time.  The kind that don’t hurt, they just leak out when you’ve been scared.

I try to shove against him but he is so, so strong – he just puts a hand between my shoulder blades and squishes me to his big, stupid chest.  It's basically as if I offered no resistance to him at all.  I grit my teeth and try to peel my upper body off of him, giving it all I’ve got this time.  His voice is firm and serious when he says, “Stop.  It.”

A voice raises above the pounding at the door.  “He just gave her an order!  To cease struggling!”

“You will die for this, Rakhii!” I think that is Dohrein.  It doesn’t seem like something Crispin would threaten.  But what do I know?  Apparently, absolutely nothing about aliens.  This one holding me is back to being sweet, a thumb rubbing circles on my skin, his body still rocking mine, soothing me.

Trying to.

Still squishing me to him.

A muffled, “Why isn’t this ship equipped with a key to this door?”

“Because it’s unthinkable that we wouldn’t also be on the other side?”

“Tevek!”

Arokh ignores them, and just keeps stroking me.  He is still keeping me forcefully pressed to him though.

My mind is turning over the reactions of the other two whenever Arokh has given me an order.  It makes me try something.  “Arokh.  Let me up.  Right now.”

And I am stunned when slowly, haltingly…

...almost as if the action is against his will…

He does.

“Good.  Now get out.  Leave me alone.”

He suddenly looks alarmed.  Which kind of freaks me out.  “I cannot.”

“Can’t?  Or won’t?”  My voice is hard.  Steadier now.

“I can’t.  I cannot be separated from you.  It will kill me.”

“Wow, how very dramatic for a guy that walked out on me after I threw myself at him.”  I only sound a little bitter.

“I never meant to hurt you, Angie.” His voice is ragged.  “And now you are feeling an extreme level of irrationality because of the reaction to wing marks without having been loved properly,” he says it like he’s reading a fact from a science book as he groans it into his palms.

I scoff.

He drops his hands, spreading them out wide.  “I was trying not to hurt you.  I thought…”  He shakes his head, and his eyes meet mine then.  Earnest.  “You have shown me you are ready for breeding.”

“Ready for…?  Are you kidding me right now?”  I want to roll my eyes, but he’s looking at me so… oddly.  I can’t place his expression.

Then my words seem to confuse him.  “Khiddhing?”  He shakes his head, the sheer span of his horns making the gesture even bigger, graver.  “I hurt you.  I am sorry.”

I feel shame bubbling in my stomach.  “I wish you’d never touched me at all if you didn’t mean it.  It’s like you just did it to …manage me.”  Humiliated and hurt didn’t begin to cover it.  I shook my head to clear it.

A muscle in his cheek jumped, and his fists kept balling and releasing, making me a bit uneasy about his mental state.

“You could not be more wrong.”

“Oh, really?”  I threw my hand up and gestured to the bed.

“You said you weren’t mature!” he grated.

I sputtered.  “What?”

“I thought you were too young – not too young to have these feelings,” he added quickly, “But earlier I thought you-“  He closes his eyes and starts again.  “I was suddenly afraid that I had taken advantage of a young Gryfala’s natural urges.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I guess that… made sense.  And I was a bit stunned because, for my part, I had just assumed that he was mature - I’d never given a thought to the possibility that he was underage and maybe I shouldn’t be together with him.  He would have made his own assumptions based on whatever he knew, and this all was like a big neon blinking sign; we were completely, literally alien to each other.  Relationships just got a whole lot more complicated.

He seemed be waiting for me to acknowledge the wisdom of his sudden abstinence.

“Oh.”

He nodded.  “You didn’t feel young.  You didn’t act young.  You didn’t smell young…”  His pupils dilated so suddenly that I jerked back in reaction.  He looked like he was on the verge-

“I wanted you.”  He gave me a positively ravenous look.  His mouth was firm and his jaw was hard.  “I wanted you so fiercely – but I couldn’t betray you like that once I thought you were younger than I’d come to even believe.”

I abruptly felt like apologizing.  If the situation was reversed, I’d have done the same.  If I’d thought he was just a teenager – like I half suspected Crispin was – it wouldn’t matter how cute I thought he was, I wouldn’t cross that line.  And if I’d found out after the fact?  Yep, I’d back the fuck up, fast.

Arokh’s voice held a world of …something when he said meaningfully, “Not if you were too young.”

“Fine.  It was admirable once you thought I was just a… fledgling.  But.  I wasn’t – I’m not.”  I corrected.

“You still choose me.”  He said it like he was ticking off a box of some sort.

But I was so done with this conversation for now.  “Look.  I think you’re onto something when you said I’m feeling really irrational – I really am.  I need time to think it over so I can get over it because I’m still feeling mad at you.”

“But you want me.”

I huffed.  Let him make what he would about my silence but I was trying to give a really good comeback, and was mentally running through them when I registered the change in his expression.

He looked downright predatory.

Distantly I heard, “-System Override is taking too teveking long!”

And the panicked reply: “You think I’m not giving this my best attempt?  You know I dropped that Advanced Ship Operations course when my dam advised me the syllabus looked too taxing!”

I couldn’t focus on them though.  Because I was frozen, locked in place by the intense look Arokh was giving me.

Until he stepped towards me.

Instinctively, I hopped backward.

My pulse skyrocketed when he took another step in my direction.  Slowly.  Purposefully.

And my heart skittered when I registered that Arokh was stalking me.

I was being hunted.  By a giant, fire-breathing, behorned predator.

My poor body was all confused.  My brain was pounding on the big red “PANIC - RUN STUPID!” signal, but my body… a thrilled flutter worked up my chest as a tingling rush zinged up my spine when he took another step forward.

And crouched.

Was I panting?

Hindbrain took over then; I pivoted and planned to dart around him and escape through the door.  I think.  I think that is exactly what I would have done.

Except that Arokh traced my movements with precision, and when I darted - he lunged.

I couldn’t help it; I shrieked.  He grabbed me to him as I gave one of those ‘dying rabbit’ squeals that make the hair on the back of your neck lift and makes all the carnivores in the area slaver.  I was just so worked up.

And then Arokh bit me!

Okay, it was a nip –his teeth closed over my neck and pressed down just enough to make my brain recircuit.  I gasped and gripped his shoulders.  Then he licked his bite, and heat flooded low in my belly.

He dropped to the edge of the bed, his hands moving, roughly dragging along the fabric of my dress.  Then he reached the edge of my skirt.  He yanked it up to my waist and my ass slammed against his thighs as he repositioned me so that I was straddling him.

Voice low, he rasped, “I haven’t just been protecting a Gryfala purely out of a sense of duty.”  Slowly now, his hand came up and gently cradled the back of my head.  “From the very first, I was – and I am – captivated by you.”  His mouth came down on mine and he spent time licking and sucking my bottom lip until I opened for him.  I was out of breath when he pulled away, but he had plenty of air to continue speaking, his expression solemn - his voice a low rasp.  “I was yours the moment you fawned over my ceremonial blanket.  I’ve made mistakes because I am ignorant about your kind, but I won’t give up trying, and there is nothing I want more than I want you.  Do you still want me?”

What a big idiot.

“Yes!  Yes, Arokh.  I want you too,” I breathed and I reached up and wrapped a palm around his horn, yanking his head down so that I could reach his mouth.

He groaned, and then he moved his lips, kissing a trail over my cheek, down my neck, and he was sucking and licking at my collarbone now and I cried out when he bucked his hips up against me, right where I needed him, and I was tumbling to the bed and he was fumbling between our bodies at his fly--

The door burst open.

Dohrein took one look at my startled face staring at him from underneath 300lbs of horny male and he didn’t hesitate; he shot a blaster bolt into Arokh’s back.

“NO!” I screamed and clutched at Arokh’s shoulders.  He writhed in agony on top of me.  His weight was crushing one moment, then ripped off of me the next.  Dohrein was there, gathering me into his arms.  Crispin was beside himself.  “Princess, I’m sorry!  So sorry!  We knew he was excited – we didn’t realize he’d actually attack you!”

“I wanted him to-“ I started to explain.

“I know you did, mshula.” Dohrein - yes, Dohrein! tenderly stroked my hair.  “Do not let this experience frighten you.  This is why Gryfala keep many hobs, and love times with a Rakhii guard are watched so that hobs can restrain him if one becomes too lust blind.  They are beasts.”

Arokh moaned, the sound odd and vibrating, and sad, and reminding me of whale-watching and listening to songs through a hydrophone.  “Put me down!”  I demanded.

And he did.

Arokh’s body was still twitching as he lay on the floor.  Liquid was collecting on the tiles where his spines were releasing it in angry pulses.  Apparently as defense mechanisms went, they were well aware of how to deal with them because Crispin was deftly applying cuffs and a collar, avoiding Arokh’s danger areas.

“What are you doing!” I rushed forward and I think it was the panic in my voice that caused Arokh to thrash.  His tail – deadly blades full out - almost connected with my cheek – and would have, if Dohrein hadn’t snatched me backward.

“Thanks,” I said shakily.  “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“He is completely out of control.” He agreed, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Hey, it wasn’t like he was trying to hurt me,”  I said, furious.

His eyes narrowed and he gripped my chin.  “Do not make excuses for him.  The scent of your fear was burning our skin before we got the door open.”

And we were moving.  My brain was still back in the room, trying to handle the switch from being rudely thrown from sexy times to scary time so I was slow to process what was happening.

“What-“

“You are safe here,” he assured brusquely.  “I vow it.”

“Dohrein!  W-!”  Go go Gadget Employ the magic word: “No-!!“

But it was too late.  I was locked in some kind of reinforced pod.  I beat against the door, trying to feel for a handle or an invisible palm pad like the one Arokh knew how to locate in the shower – something, anything.

There were none.

And I stood alone, trapped.

Even when my voice finally fell hoarse, even over the sounds of my sobs, I could still hear Arokh’s enraged roars of pain.

◆◆◆

“She’s distressed.”

“Of course she’s distressed – that monster tried to- to-,”

“Look at these levels; she’s a mess.  Her body has experienced everything from hunger to fatigue to multiple attacks in just a few days.  Her system has been battered.  These readings are frightening.”

“Well, perhaps they are innacurate.  It isn’t as if you truly have a normal human baseline.”

“Do you question the accuracy?”

A weighted pause.  Then: “No.  And this looks just like shock.  Remember that simulation we-”

I blinked until my vision wasn’t fuzzy, and I brought a hand up to brush the tear crusts from my eyes.

“She’s awake!”

Fingers carefully teased the hair tendrils from my face.  “Princess?”

“Where is Arokh?”

Crispin’s mouth hardened into an angry line, an odd look for his mellow face.  “He’s locked in cargo.”

“I’d have shoved him through the teveking airlock if it wasn’t for the example the Council will make of him when we arrive planetside,” muttered Dohrein.

“They’ll mete out punishment,”  Crispin assured.

Dohrein scoffed.  “Better than he deserves.”

“You have to let him go!”  I tried to sit up, and a whirring sound buzzed as my back was forcefully raised up for me.  I glanced over to see Crispin working the controls of the chair I was in.  I was at the helm of the ship, in that small chair.

“We didn’t want you to wake back in that bed,” he explained.

I grabbed his arm and he froze.  “You have to let Arokh go!”

Dohrein scowled.  “Do you know what it took to get him there?  Trust us, there is no better place for him on this ship.”

“Nothing that will hold him,”  Crispin said with a wince.

“Oh my land, you have to let him out!  Right now!  You don’t understand-“

A blaring sound cut me off.

“Is he breaking out?” I asked hopefully.

Dohrein and Crispin dove for the viewing panel that was lighting up like slot machines at a casino.

“Tevek,” they breathed.

“What?”  I saw a small blip, and a really, really big blip, blinking as space shrunk rapidly between them.  “Are we about to crash into a planet?”

“That isn’t a planet.  It’s another ship,”  Dohrein bit out.  He grabbed a joystick (probably not what it was really called, but I was an Atari-era kid) and began what I assumed, by the sudden jerk of my body against my seatbelt, was a defensive maneuver.

But then the ship just shuddered still.

“No, no, nooo…”  Crispin whispered as he slammed keys – but never took his eyes off of the planet-sized-ship approaching us as we sat like ducks in the water.  “We have to get her to the pod!”

“It’s too late,” Dohrein said and his voice wasn’t the rude, prickly tone I was used to.

It was gutted.

A hologram burst up, depicting one hell of an ugly motherfucking alien.  Crispin typed faster.  The hologram began to speak.  “Block our visibility sensor all you want.  You’re only confirming what we know: this is a hob ship.  And you have precious cargo that you’re protecting.”

“Tevek, Tevek, Tevek…” Crispin cursed under his breath but he kept typing.

There was a ping.

“Oho!  Congrats, you got a panic signal out.”  His smile was cruel.  “But we both know there are no other hob ships in the vicinity.”

The ship quaked.

“They’ve docked us,”  Crispin whispered.

“You don’t think I know that?”  Dohrein hissed.

“I was saying it for her benefit.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

“No consequence.”

“Guys?”  The both turned to me.  I’m sure I must have looked as terrified as I felt.  And I’m sure of this because even Dohrein’s tense expression softened.  That is, right before it filled with the most terrifying look of regret.

“What are we gonna do?”

“WEAPON’S VAULT REMOTELY LOCKED,” the computer updated us so loudly – and almost cheerfully, that I jumped a little.

Crispin swallowed and Dohrein’s jaw worked as he moved his gaze to glare at the floor.

“It’s too late to send off the pod.”

“A Rakhii-”

“Cannot take on an entire shipful of pirates.”

“But he’s a gladiator.”

Dohrein’s head lifted and he looked at Crispin for a long moment.

When he said nothing, Crispin continued to plead his theory/plan.  “Your dam designed that blaster gun to specifically subdue a Rakhii in lust, but it barely slowed this one down in rage-mode.”

He began holding up fingers to emphasize his points.  “He snapped your mom’s prototype in half.  The pirates aren’t going to have access to a weapon anything that advanced.  There’s a chance he can do this!”

“But he doesn’t touch her,” he replied vehemently.

“Agreed.”

Not agreed – but I wasn’t going to waste time arguing with them.

Dohrein grimaced as he stood and that was when I noticed the bruises and bandages covering them both, making my stomach sink further.

Crispin held his arms out to me and instead of arguing about it, I just latched on to the adorably hot man-boy and we booked it towards the cargo bay.

The smell of burnt flesh was strong as we moved through.  Starting at the bedroom cabin, and all the way to the cargo bay was a wreck.  Metal tiling peeled up in places, wiring hung out from ripped up panels.  There were black charred, still-smoking holes and acid pools here and there.  Shiny black flakes were scattered around.  I swallowed.  Burnt scales?  Clearly, this was one hell of a fight.

I had wondered if they’d rendered him unconscious since I hadn’t heard him in awhile.  But when the cargo door lifted, I saw that not only was he chained in place, locked behind a set of bars, and bolted to the wall from a cable that extended from a collar – he was also fitted with a Hannibal Lector mask.  But now that we were this close, I could hear him fine.

“Angie!” he bellowed.  A few beeps and the bars opened.  I shimmied.  Crispin was so startled by my body writhing against his that he’d have dropped me - if I hadn’t been ready to hit the ground running.

“Princess, no!”

But I was already in Arokh’s arms.

His Lector muzzle-mask dug into the top of my head as he squeezed me to his chest.

An outraged noise escaped me when I cataloged the blaster burns.  He was covered in them.  I heard clicks as the guys disengaged the locks on the various attachments.  It only took a moment, and I bit my lip ruefully, betting that they were internally stewing over the damage they’d taken to wrangle him here - all of it pointless now that they had to release him.

“Angie?”

“Yeah, handsome?”

The endearment didn’t even get me a smile.  And his eyes weren’t right either; the pupils flicked from blown to slitted and back, rapid fire.

“Arokh?” I heard the worry in my voice.

“Sweethearts,” he gasped.  His eyes were still a little unfocused.  “Go stand by the door.”

“What?”

“Now,” he ordered.  His voice was steadier with every word.  “Door.  Stay back.”

As soon as I got there and turned back to look at him in exasperation, Arokh grabbed a resigned Dohrein in a chokehold and proceeded to beat the piss out of him.  Dohrein let him get one really, really good hit in – and then he apparently had some angst and frustration to vent right back.  I wondered if Arokh missed the mask.  The wire basket might have helped bounce some knuckle.

When Arokh landed a punch that left Dohrein reeling, he then turned on Crispin.  During all this, I shouted things like; “Arokh, stop!  You have to stop - the ship is being attacked!”  When that didn’t seem to register with him at all, I finally tried, “I’m in danger!”

Now that got his attention.

His body froze, and his gaze moved to me.  And then Crispin’s fist planted into Arokh’s eye socket.

Slowly, almost robotically, Arokh’s head moved to look down on the unfortunate male - who had realized a second too late that the fight was over.  He gave Arokh a weak smile.

Fuck, he was going to kill that kid.

“Pirates,” Dohrein panted.  And with that word, Arokh dropped Crispin without any permanent damage rendered.  Probably.

A soft electronic voice came over the speaker.  “Computer Override.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I muttered faintly.  I tried not to panic.  Three males reached out to comfort me, which would have been nice if there wasn’t the promise of painful death being ocularly exchanged over my head.  Arokh won, and I was scooped into his embrace.  The guys talked strategy and prepared with the weapons they had available (not enough to do any helpful amount of damage) in the time we had available (the clock was ticking down fast, we could hear them assembling just outside the airlock).  Apparently, a ship this size didn’t come equipped with the firepower necessary to injure the pirate’s vessel, and they’d used an illegal device to lock the outer defenses when they’d reeled our ship to theirs.  Or so I gathered as the guys talked rapidly to fill Arokh in.

If we had a crazy good hacker in our group that could rival whatever black hat the pirates employed, then we’d stand a chance at getting our ship back under our command in time, but… none of the guys knew enough to get us out of this.  They did have enough training to take the weapons we did have and go full throttle at the oncomers with lasers blazing but that was guaranteed kamikaze mission and left me vulnerable, which was a scenario none were willing to play.  Morbidly, Dohrein discussed what sounded like the space form of the cyanide capsule for me but before the other two’s vehement protests were fully out of their mouths, he shook his head – even he couldn’t stomach putting me down, even if it was for my own… safety.

Basically?  We were screwed.

As soon as I had that thought, I shuddered.  I did not want that to be literal, I did not want that to be literal…

Arokh grazed my cheek with the back of a claw tip.  I gave him a wan smile.

Before the doors were forced open, he allowed Crispin to pat my knee.  Dohrein placed his wing talon in my palm, which would have been strange, but with everything in my life the way it had been, this was so mild it rated virtually no bizarre-points.  So, I squeezed onto his talon and actually got a smile.  The saddest, most worried smile I’d ever seen, but I was counting it.

And then we were surrounded by pirates.

◆◆◆

They marched us onto their ship.  Their jeers and hoots were reminiscent of rowdy chimpanzees as we were herded into a large, oblong space, where the aliens were working to roughly shove crates towards the wall to clear the floor.  That done, they turned.  And all eyes were on us.  Lots, and lots, and lots of eyes.  Like, literally, some of them had upwards of eight pairs of eyes on their… heads?

I flinched.  Gross.

I could sense Arokh’s indecision as his arms wavered.  He was thinking he should put me down, but he was afraid to let me go.  I would have told him to set me on the floor, but oh no – I did not want to let go of the biggest, baddest guy on the good side.  I gripped onto him harder.

A being stepped out onto the floor as if this were an arena and his voice was loud enough to be heard just fine when he said, “What a pretty toy!”

And with that, I wanted to be behind the biggest, baddest guy on the good side.  I wondered if I could just crawl over his shoulder and hang off of his back--

24

AROKH

Angie’s little nails were leaving crescent impressions in my scales.  They’d never pierce through.  They were too blunt.  She didn’t have a mouth full of sharp teeth for biting, or fangs to envenomate an enemy, or wings to fly her away from harm.  She was completely, utterly helpless.

And so were we.  Woefully outnumbered did not begin to describe the direness of our situation.

Her body tensed and I felt her knees squeeze my hips as her body surged upward in her attempt to clamber higher up my torso.  I moved a hand to the back of her neck and scruffed her there to still her.  It calmed some wild animals when they were panicked and fruitlessly climbing a being to gain higher ground away from a predator.

This worked exactly the same on my terrified little human.

My hearts squeezed.

A wing suddenly shot in front of us like a protective curtain.  It was Crispin, his face set in hard lines as he glared at the Frutag that seemed to be the leader of these mercenary bandits.

The leader spoke again.  “Some of us have never seen a Rakhii fight.  But if I’m not mistaken, you’re a Prime class fighter, aren’t you?  You are!  Look at those scored horns!”

He looked at me over the top of Crispin’s wing with a curiosity that would have seemed benign until you considered that we were being held hostage in a pirate ship and the scent of lust was horrifically strong – and growing stronger the longer we stood here.

I said nothing.

He smiled, showing that he did have a mouth full of sharp teeth for biting.  And I knew for a fact that Frutags may not have fangs for envenomation, but they did have a stinger on their tail.

Angie.  Had.  Nothing.

Nothing save for the three of us.

Now I was glad that I hadn’t taken off with her by myself.  I was glad these two hobs had forced me to capitulate and let them join her.

I just wished the three of us were enough to save her.

“How do we make him fight?”  someone hollered.

The Frutag was still smiling when he relaxed his weight to his furthermost hind feet and considered us.  “Easy.  Take his Gryfala.”

Crispin snarled.

And they descend like takkals; small, fast, mean.  My pulse rocketed when Crispin was yanked right into the crowd.  Others leaped on Dohrein and rode him down to the floor.

Without the other two acting as a barrier, shining eyes trained fully on us - on me holding Angie like a target.

I needed my hands free and her instinct had merit.  I peeled Angie from where she clung to my suit and shoved her to hang off my back.  Come just a click closer you little bastards, I mentally coaxed to the aliens before us.  I snaked a hand out and snatched the closest one to me.

There was a satisfying gurgle before I felt the bones of spine and skull separate.  I flung its body away.  I wished I could brawl in.  I could make a difference.

On a normal day.

If my ribs weren’t protesting and half my scales weren’t still regenerating.

But I had Angie now and even if I was physically able to fight, I would never be able to leave her vulnerable while I did it.  If we – when we – made it out of this alive, I would end my campaign as a gladiator.  I would serve Angie for the rest of our lives.  I just needed us to survive.  We had to get out of here.  That’s what I tried to tell myself.

Of course, there was no way the council was going to let me live.  I didn’t look forward to what I’d face there, but even the worst that would be done to punish me would be preferable to having my Angie harmed here.

Angie’s hold tightened on my spines.  I always wondered how Gryfala’s avoided getting stabbed with them, but my body instinctively protected her; the spines she held remained pliable - and those at her level were also not leaking.  When we made it out of this, I imagined myself spending the time running the necessary tests to determine if my human would be adversely affected by my venom.

And the thought of her reaction if I told her that I’d need to draw her blood again?

That almost made me smile.

A hand darted for her.

I broke the wrist; then bent the arm back to snap it at the elbow.

Two came at me from my other side, and Angie screamed as they grabbed ahold of her.  I whipped around, placed a palm against her face to protect her, and felt my throat heat as I aimed flames, burning their skin from their bones.

Dohrein appeared - one wing streaming blood, his face a bruised mess - but he wordlessly closed in at my side.  That meant Angie was cornered between us, her back pressed right to the wall.  As safe as we could make her.

“How are you holding up?”  His voice was oddly muffled, so I could assume his nose was broken.

“Oh, I’m glad you asked.  I’m at a bit of a disadvantage due to the beating I’ve already taken this rotation.”

“Yeah.”  He gripped his ribs, the ones I’d bruised if not broken.  “Bad timing on that one.”

I gritted my mouthful of sharp, sharp teeth.  “You think?”

We were extremely limited in defensive maneuvers, since we couldn’t so much as step forward to engage the pirates.  Whenever Crispin wasn’t being dragged past us, I blew fire – but the members of the mob that weren’t close enough to be affected simply moved out of my range entirely.  Crispin was gamely pounding more piss out of them than I’d have expected, but he’d make his way back to us only to get hauled in again.  We tried to grab for him, but could never quite reach in time.  We would have taken even more damage, if the Frutag hadn’t shouted, “Save the best for last!  Save the best for last!”  He gestured in our direction, gaining an enthusiastic response from the crowd.  “This Gryfala won’t be getting away so how about we start with a little teaser instead?"

My muscles tensed even harder, but the crowd didn’t move toward Angie.

No. The entire mob fell on Crispin.

Dohrein tried, I'd give him that.  He waded in, pulling beings off, stabbing with his wing talons to gouge out eyes, spitting venom; but it quickly became clear that he could either go down with his brother-hob, or he could let Crispin be sacrificed in order to stand guard for Angie a little longer.

And the struggle he felt over these hopeless options even had me feeling sorry for him.

"’Rein," Crispin shouted.

Dohrein looked stricken. He knew what his friend was going to say.

"Keep her safe!"

Without the anchor of the other hob, Crispin was ripped completely away and Dohrein pounded skulls into the hull wall as he climbed over others to reach Angie’s side once more.

They do terrible things to Crispin.

I have seen much in the arenas I have battled in. But here, there is no honor. No mercy. And the things they did to the young, cheerful hob turned my stomach.

I never expected his fortitude either. He fought until he couldn't.  It wasn't until they peeled the first wing off that he finally began to scream.  And the unlucky bastard was still conscious when the popped his other wing from the socket and twisted and twisted it until the skin and tendons and muscles shredded loose and they wrenched that one off too.

The smell of chemicals eating away flesh as they poured cauterizing agent on the gaping wing holes reached us even at this distance.  They didn’t perform this as some kindness to prevent infection; no, they applied the agent to ensure that the hob’s wings wouldn't grow back.

A hob without wings was emasculated.  Unable to court or love properly.  Which was just another unnecessary cruelty because it wasn’t likely that he’d get the chance to do either in the future; we needed a miracle in order to leave this ship alive and I was beginning to wish I had the fortitude and resolution to snap Angie’s neck.  It would be a kindness.  I had a preview of what would happen to her if the pirates managed to snag her.

So did she.

But I couldn’t do it.  I literally was unable to perform the action.  I knew the hobs wouldn’t be able to either.  It was biological impossibility for them to cause intentional harm to their females.

One of the hoard held up a severed wing and flexed the bones so that the wing flared open and closed, open and closed.  Like a macabre toy for the insane, little sparkles lighting up the air as the colorful dust was knocked loose.  They laughed uproariously as they made plans to cook and consume the wings, jesting about them being an aphrodisiac delicacy.  Crispin hung his head.

Angie was going to sob herself into dehydration and I wanted to comfort her but there was no time.  The distraction Crispin was providing was such that the barrier of bodies initially keeping us stuck in this part of the ship was dwindling.

The first teveking opportunity we’d had open to us since this started.

Although I could see it was destroying Dohrein to even think of abandoning the other hob, I’d seen his head angle in the direction of what was likely the connector to the bridge.  If we could make it to the captain’s chair…

I let out another burst of flames to clear a swath in the right direction, and grabbed Dohrein’s arm.  His expression was haunted, but resigned.

Just then, Crispin surged up with extreme effort and headbutted one of the aliens holding him, spitting in the eyes of one, then another, and another, providing quite a show.  Then he let loose a howl that had all the attention of the room focusing on him.

All the attention.

We didn't let his attempt at diversion wither.  We ran with the chance he gave us.  Dragging Angie out from behind me, I swing her into my arms and we move.  Crispin’s defiant curses begin to devolve into tortured screams again.

And then silence.

We hear the Frutag say, “Passed out?  Dump that one in cargo then.  If he lives, maybe we can ransom him.”

They don't care about their toy now that they've broken him. Not while they have three left.  We run faster.

“Find that other Gryfala bitch.  And if these two survive being passed around, we’ll make a teveking fortune ransoming them!”

Dohrein almost stumbles.  I catch a fistfull of his wing until he regains his feet.  We don’t waste a glance at the other as we run full out.  But we’re both thinking the same thing.  There is another female on this ship?

We manage to round the corner before we hear the shouts of alarm and the thunder of many feet and hooves.

And that’s when all infernofire breaks loose.

25

ANGIE

I bit my tongue when the lights went out.

And that hurts.

You often hear the expression “bit my tongue so hard it bled” - supposedly to stifle a noise, right?  But let me tell you; I’d be squealing from biting my tongue as much as whatever was going on around me.

And right now, crazy shit is going on around me.

Blasts illuminate the inky dark from behind, with laser beams streaking in streams, making colorful bursts behind my eyelids every time I blink.  I’m not sure how the guys are avoiding them – and, as the smell of charred flesh becomes stronger, I wonder if they aren’t able to avoid them at all.

I worry just how much damage they’ve taken.

And then from in front of us, a deep voice commands, “Honored hob, stop!”

Dohrein’s back is suddenly smooshed into my face, which means he stopped running before Arokh did which means I just got sandwiched.  In the face.  Fucking ouch!

And the aliens chasing us are getting closer to our heels.  Now we’ve got these assholes blocking us.  Motherfucker.

Arokh turns his head to breathe fire behind us, making our pursuers fall back a bit as the flames lick the air of the corridor.

For that brief moment, I can see who we are standing in front of, and it looks like a …swat team?

From the dark I hear, “Human: are these males harming you?”

Human?  Human!  They know what I am!  “N-no!  They are rescuing me.  They’re with me.  How do you know…Are you… here to help?”

A headlamp flicks on.

The alien grins.  “Come with me if you want to live.”

Holy shit.

He just did an Ahnold impression.

The movie quote is like a burst in my brain – a flash of past life normalcy after what just happened – what is happening, what will happen to Crispin back there, where we just… left him.

Another alien intonates, “We are here to save your ahhhss.”

At first, for a second I can only shake my head – a scream from behind us snaps me out of it though and I shout, “Guys, they know a human!  Let’s go for it.”

“They’re Na’riths,” says Dohrein.

“What does that mean?”

“They are pirates.”

“More?”  I look around us.  “Good pirates?  Better pirates?”

“Not like we have much choice,” Dohrein grates as he stares down the rescue team.  “Our female is not to be shared.”  Then he throws a guilty look my way.  “Unless she wills it.”

I don’t even have to verbalize the Hell No.  Arokh’s growl rips from his chest, rattling the very air.  As in actually.  As in literally.  As in legit DO NOT FUCK WITH THIS ALIEN.

Conflict settled.

“No worries.  We have our own.”  And the speaker for the team grins even wider.  “Don’t worry, human.  We’re ‘good’ pirates.  Though our human prefers the title of ‘Resale Technicians.’”

“Sure.  Right.  Noted.”

Arokh is breathing more flames, and I see the defacto leader of the rescue group jerk his chin to urge us forward before it is lights-out again.  I can hear them moving into formation, forming a barrier as they hustle us forward.  I can hear the leader’s boots clomping on the floor as he keeps pace with Arokh, and he flicks on his lamp again as he starts speaking to me - which I especially appreciate when I consider that nobody else is using lights; only I can’t see in the dark.  From the cursing and stumbling that happened when the lights first went out, not every alien chasing us has the ability either.

“We have a human female as our own.  We received your hobs’ distress ping signal and were hoping that in exchange for assisting your ahhhss off this ship, you’d help our female.”

My mind is spinning wildly.  “Uh, alright.  Sounds fair.  What’s wrong with her?”  Anything, whatever, let’s move.

“She says she is giving biirth.”

Freak.  Out.  “Are you serious!  She’s in labor?  Like right now?!”

“Birth?” Dohrein pants.  “Like the Rakhii’s whelp litters?  Not eggs?”

“You will help her successfully giving biirth?”

“You save us all in exchange for help?”

“Yes.”

“We need to rescue our other hob!” I get it out just as Dohrein and even Arokh shout out versions of the same demand.

The leader makes an uncertain face.  “He was left behind?  With the mob of pirates?”  His voice says there isn’t much point in trying to find what’s left of him, and I think of Crispin’s wings.  My voice comes out tight and on the verge of tears when I add the frosting to my plea.  “There might be another human-Gryfala on this ship too.”

That gets him.  “Where?”

Arokh’s voice is rough when he grinds out, “Don’t know.  Hiding, apparently.  Pace away from my female.”

The leader shoots him a quick look, which sends his headlight right into my eyes, momentarily blinding me, but he immediately widens the gap between us, staying close enough to converse yet far enough away to ensure that overprotective aliens don’t get too bent out of shape.

A crackling sound comes from the shoulder of his suit and he speaks one word back before he relays to the group; “Brace.”

Everyone stops and reaches for the wall, where – how handy – there are little spaces perfect for bracing a palm.  Arokh transferred me so that I hung mostly from his neck as he clamped me with one arm, the other keeping us in place.

And the whole ship rocked.

The leader spoke into the shoulder of his suit some more, and guys wheeled off and headed back the way we’d just come.

Dohrein was hunched over just ahead of us as we waited.  I pushed against Arokh’s hold to silently communicate that I could get down now, but he only squeezed me tighter.

That’s when we heard something odd, an echoed snarling coming up on us in the corridor but just out of view.  “Time to move.”  The leader began trotting again but he didn’t seem worried about this new development.  And finally, we rounded a corner and came to our rescuer’s docked ship.

“We made it!” I whooped, and I looked up to see Arokh’s very dirty, very anxious, haggard face go a little softer at my words.

“And we have control of the pirate’s ship,” the leader commented as he stopped and turned expectantly, so that he was facing the docking entrance we’d just stepped through.

The noise was growing louder and closer.  I held up a finger.  “Is uh, anyone else getting nervous about that?”

Arokh grabbed my finger, folding my hand into his.  But he was looking at Dohrein.  Dohrein had his head cocked, surprise on his face.

And that’s when the team came through, carrying Crispin on their version of a stretcher board.  He was growling and snarling.

“Crisp-“ I started, but that’s when I saw that on top of him was… there was a woman on top of him!  He held her tightly, and she was gripping onto the board and also covering as much of him as she could, and it was hard to tell if she was protecting him or he was protecting her.

“Do not touch her!”

“I remember when I said that,” Arokh muttered, his eyes equal parts amused, relieved, worried.

We followed them and when they set the stretcher on a platform in their medical room, she let go of the board and threw her arms around Crispin’s neck.  He buried his hands in her hair, murmuring to her.

We stared.

Well, well.  Way to go Crispin!

Everyone looked at me.  I realized my hands were in the air, so I dropped them.  “Did I say that outloud?  Sorry.  But seriously!  Yay, Crispin!”  The boy apparently worked fast.

And my teenage puppy-love alien relaxed and grinned at me.  Big.  Yeah.  Way to go, Crispin.  I smiled back.

“Is she injured?” Dohrein approached his friend quietly.

“Get back,” Crispin warned low.  Menacing.

Dohrein jerked as if he’d been physically socked in the heart.

Aww.  Poor guy.  Guess… there’d be no sharing of this girl for them.

“Human female?”

I turned to the alien that called for me.  The girl on the stretcher hadn’t responded at all.  I worried about her level of emotional trauma, I mean, she’d been with the pirates longer than we had, apparently.  Alien captivity and alien raids weren’t all they were cracked up to be.  “Uh, yes?”

“Will you come tend to our female?”

I saw the concern on the leader’s face, and was really, really glad for this woman who had herself nice guys.  Who very much cared about her, cared about her delivery.  I mean, what if she’d instead ended up with a ship full of pirates like the ones we’d just escaped from…

“Lead the way,” I said.

Arokh was right behind me.  And, after a moment, Dohrein turned away from Crispin, and jerkily moved to follow us.

◆◆◆

“Then, they… they asked me… if I, if I… needed a pool to release my offspring in!”

The last part was said on a scream.

Another one.

Helping a girl give birth was deafening work.  And whenever she managed to grab my hand during a contraction, she damn near squeezed all my fingers broken.  Really quick I decided to treat her guys like chess pieces and moved their stunned bodies strategically to her sides so that she grabbed ahold of them instead of me.  And when shit got real, without being told that we sometimes did it on earth, the leader asked her if he could get up behind her and hold her.  She’d said yes please.

Awwwww, how cavity-inducing was that?

“Oh, come on, Beth.  That’s not even a ridiculous question.  I mean, they probably know aliens that spawn in water or something and you’ve heard of water birthing right?  They do do that back home.”

“Only… freeeaks!” she screamed again.

“What are freaks like?”  Dohrein asked.

I tilted my head, and Arokh, ever at the ready, wiped my face so that my hands could stay sterilized and clasped together in front of me like I’d seen in television shows.

Yes.  Beth’s main source of health care was brought to her by a trained-by-television-binging ‘armchair doctor’ professional.

“Freaks is an insult.  Not a species.  She means that any woman who gives birth to her baby underwater is not exactly mainstream.”

Ha, punny.

Her guys had an “ah” moment, a couple of them nodding a little, and another looking thoughtful.

“How does everything look?” she panted.

“Not much different than a goat,” I assured.

It was a little different than a goat.

Namely, goats didn’t scream nearly this much.

I thought for a moment.  And mentally amended: unless they were Nubian.  Nubians could seriously get their scream on.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” she wailed.  “I’m going to deliver with the help of a goat midwife!”

Yep.  I was playing catcher.  And I’d only done this with goats before.  She was a little hung up on that.  “Hey, I could tap out and a freaking alien could be doing this instead.”

“You are insulting us?” one of her guys looked troubled as he petted her hand.  Not angry.  Hurt.

“No!  No – sorry.  ‘Freaking’ can also be a… it can emphasize…  Just trust me.  It has a lot of uses and meanings.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“It’s even used in place of the word ‘sex’.”

Now he looked like he really didn’t believe me.  Beth gave a weak laugh.  “It’s true.  Wow, I never thought how flexible that word actually is.  We do use it for everything.”

Her guys relaxed then, and I felt relieved.  I didn’t want them to think I’d been insulting them.  They were clearly devoted to her.  And they were so worried about her – how amazing was that?

Beth screamed again.  And the guys at my shoulders and behind me gasped.

“What?  What’s wrong?” she panted weakly.

“Nothing,” I glared around me and everyone fell silent.  “I think this is the first time they’ve seen a baby crown before.”

“Oh!”  She sounded like she’d laugh, but the sound turned wrong as she sort of grunt-screamed again.  A few more good pushes like that, and I caught my first – and I kind of hoped ever (as in, this was the only one I’d ever catch) human kid.  There were something like four or five pairs of hands flying under mine in case I missed – and it wasn’t like there was much room to fuck up with them all crowded around me.  “Back off, I got it, I got it!”

“It?”  Beth’s voice was really weak.  I ignored her though.  Her baby wasn’t crying.  I worked quickly, pinching off cord, using towels to wipe the goo away from its face and concentrated on its nose and mouth.  I moved to the table.  “Snot sucker!” I called.  It was slapped into my hand before I could even finish asking.

The device I’d described for them, told them was absolutely necessary to have (in goat birthing definitely and although I didn’t know much about human birthing, I did know hospitals used them too) got them using some sort of pre-fabbing machine to make me a mini turkey baster, not quite as soft as what earthlings used to pull mucus out of a baby, but it would have to do.

Everyone had scrubbed up, and donned medical gowns.  I fought hysterical laughter when I envisioned what the gowns would have looked like if she’d fallen in with six armed aliens or four legged aliens instead.  Those of us who had been involved in the fight had taken the world’s fastest showers too, so I no longer had alien blood in my hair and Arokh’s burns looked to be nearly gone once the charring was washed away.  Crispin and his girl were in another med bay.  I think he’d have wanted to see a human being born, but he was in pretty rough shape and really only held consciousness long enough to ascertain that these guys weren’t going to hurt his girl.  She had wandered over once, tentatively, but she’d stayed on the periphery and had raced back when Crispin woke up shouting, terrified she’d been taken.

That boy had fallen hard.  And fast.  I hoped things worked out.

I toweled off the baby and when everything looked as good as I could make it, I took her over and placed her on her momma’s chest.

Beth cried happy, relieved tears and the guys converged to coo and fawn over them as I prepared to help with the second part.

“What are you doing?” one of them asked me, looking alarmed.  “Is there another?”

“Um, I hope not.”  Hell.  I hadn’t thought of that.  “Beth?  You’d have told me if you were preggers with twins, right?”

“Thank fuck I’m not,” she fell back the whole quarter of an inch she had between her and her crowd of guys.  One was still behind her, cradling her cradling the baby.  Okay, that was damn cute.

“Then why…”

I looked at the guy who was so genuinely puzzled.  “Afterbirth, man.  All the stuff that held the baby for nine months has to come out now.”

Now the worry was back in their faces.  “It isn’t over?” this from the guy she was now gripping onto, and his voice squeaked a little.

“Nope.  And yep.  It hurts her too.”

One placed his big hand on the baby’s back to gently keep her in place as her mom began to push again.

“My kind goes through this too after whelping each pup in the litter.  Unless they share a life-sack,” Arokh rumbled quietly at my ear.

“Mmm,” I replied.  Because what the hell do you say to that?

“Don’t push on my stomach,” Beth begged, and she sounded tired.  Man, did I ever feel for her.

“Don’t push on her stomach!” one of her guys relayed, like I wasn’t between Beth’s legs and this close to her mouth hearing every one of her words for the last, oh, six hours.

“I got it,” I assured.  “I wasn’t going to.”  Was I supposed to?  I was trying to minimize worry, but I decided to voice my ignorance anyway.  “Do we do that?”

“Ha, guess you don’t with goats, eh?”

A cloth was carefully passed over her head, and the tears wiped again from her face.  Wow, her guys were great.  If putting people under pressure showed you their mettle, these were gems.  Nothing but caring and concerned and tender.  Oh, and they were badass rescuers too.

“No.  You stroke her back if she is having trouble, but you let her do it when her body is ready…” …unless there is a problem, I finished mentally.  Then I mentally smacked myself.  I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of problems.  Shit like that didn’t even need to enter into the ethos right now.

“In class, some of the women had…” she breathed deep, “Done this before.  Some said the nurses would push on their stomach to expel the placenta and they said it hurt worse than giving birth!  I was so freaked.”

“There’s that word again,” one murmured, and that made her smile.  Me too.

“Look how big that baby is!  You popped it out fine - I think you’ve got this, Mom.”

“Don’t you mean… maaaaahhhm?” she teased, making the sound of a goat call.

“Hey now.  Don’t knock it.  I could have been totally clueless down here instead of being relieved that I didn’t have to worry about horns.”

“My kind only has hornbuds at birth so that the mother is not injured,” mused Arokh, sounding worried.  Worried for goats?  He was cute too.

“No, I was kidding.”

“Ha!” gasped Beth.

I grinned, and Arokh mopped the sweat from my forehead and tightened my ponytail for me.  “I was just teasing her – goats don’t have horns either when they are born.  The buds erupt about three days later.”

Beth gave one last heave and out came the afterbirth.  And if I never smelled or saw or touched one again, I’d be just fine.

“You’re a mess,” she teased me, her voice weak.

I looked down at myself, blood and fluid and more on me – even a tiny partial baby handprint in goo.  Aww?  “Yeah, but you should see the other girl.”

Beth grinned.

A tendril of sticky hair was carefully picked out of her face and gently brushed behind her ear before lips came down on the side of her head.  Gah!  Wow, I hoped she liked these guys back because her heartthrobs were crazy about her.  He murmured something to her, and the guy behind her rubbed her back.

“What do you do next?” Dohrein asked me.

I made a popping noise with my lips.  Tasted what I was afraid was some Beth-gunk.  Man, I needed another shower.  “Clean up and let Mom sleep.  Oh!  Need to get the baby to nurse first.”

Beth covered her face.  “So help me.  If you call them udders-“

“I would never!”

She dropped her hands and gave me a skeptical look.

“Teats.  We farmgirls also call them teats.”

She started to laugh then grabbed her stomach.  “Oh shit!  That hurts.  Don’t make me laugh, don’t make me laugh!”

“Sorry.  And hey – I just remembered; a baby nursing helps release chemicals that can help with afterbirth delivery.”

She stared at me.

I shrugged.  “Whoops!”

Her jaw jutted a little.

I held up my hands.  “I’ve been off the farm a few years, I forgot the order a little.  If that kid had come out with four hooves I promise the first thing I’d have done was set her under you and help her latch on.”

“I said – no making me – laugh!” She grabbed her stomach and reached for her crotch.

I winced.  “Sorry.”  I motioned at her chest.  “Want help?  I’ve never done it with a woman before but I’m pretty sure we can figure it out.”

“Why does that sound so dirty?”

I smiled, but I could feel it was a tired one, and I knew she was even more exhausted than I was.  Evidently, she’d been at it for a long time before they picked us up.

We got the baby fed, the area cleaned up, and when I picked up the bucket that held the placenta goop and wondered aloud what I should do with it, Arokh shared that his people buried theirs.  It was a rite that the father performed in thanks to the Creator for each little pup.

“That’s actually cool,” I said thoughtfully.  “Unfortunately, we happen to be fresh out of soil, but maybe-“

“We have soil.  There is a greenhouse on deck four.  We grow fresh fruits and vegetables there.  I would like to claim the honor of performing thanks for Beth’s little one.”

Mmm, carrots fertilized by Beth’s truly.  Tasty.”

She shook her head.  “That sounds fine, Tiernan.  Thank you,” she said as he took the bucket from me oh so seriously.  Actually, smartassing aside, I was impressed that he treated it that way.  I peeled off my outer layer of gloves as I approached her.  “So, is there a Daddy back home that is missing this?” I asked softly.

I’d said it quiet, but all her guys froze.  I think Dohrein and Arokh did too, either because they were imagining themselves in her guys’ positions, or they were sensing the serious mood change in the room.  Why had I blurted that out?  Stupid!

Beth sagged in relief.  “No.  I know it sounds crazy, but Angie?  For that reason alone, I’m glad that I’ll never have to see earth again.  And I’d be freaking the fuck out if it wasn’t for my guys here.”

Whew.  I smiled.  “So you like them?”

She returned my smile again, but tiredly.  “Like them?  I think I might be in love with them.”

I grinned.  “I’m glad for you.”

Then I looked at them.  All of them that were present and not attending a placenta burial anyway.

She had five big, strapping, hulking dudes.  Five.

“So… six weeks before you can get frisky.”

Her eyes lit up.  She began to whisper, and I leaned down to hear her.  “You want to know a secret?  Where they come from, they don’t have blowjobs.”

I pulled back from her.

“I blew their minds,” she said with a grin.

I looked around again, noticed the grins of the guys that could definitely all hear us whispering just fine.  All of them.  All of hers.  All of them.  Five?  “And you’ll be doing that a lot for the next six weeks.  You’ll be so ready for some action of your own-”

She groaned.  “No way.  I can’t even think of having sex right now.  Ouch…”

“…Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of her poor vag.  I’d gotten way more up close and personal than I’d ever wanted to be with another woman’s bush.  And I can attest that she looked a wee bit swollen and sore down there.  Oh, and the fact that she’d just pushed what had to be a seven pounder out of it so it was probably a bit tired.

One of her men slid in behind her again, rubbing her shoulders until she laid back on him and closed her eyes.  He adjusted so that he held her and baby girl in his arms.  Not for the first time tonight, my eyes teared up a little.

“And hey?”  Beth said tiredly.

“Yeah?”

“Have you tried giving yours a hickey yet?”

I felt my eyebrows hop up.  “Noooo…”

Beth just gave me a wicked - if a little wan - smile.

“Ready?” Arokh whispered in my ear.

My voice was a little watery when I replied, “Yeah.”  And I took his hand, and Dohrein’s, and we left the med bay.

We stopped in to check on Crispin.  He half covered the sleeping woman as he gripped her protectively underneath him.  His eyes glittered with contentment and he looked like a dragon.  A wingless dragon.

I tried not to look at the gauze packing his shoulders, and instead concentrated on the fact that he might have a woman of his own.

I wanted to leave him with that hope, so I quietly remarked, “If she bonds to you as hard as you’ve obviously bonded to her, then you two are going to help each other heal.”

But instead of reassuring him, my words shook him.

Horrified him.

“What?  What did I say?”

Arokh put his hand, the one that I wasn’t squeezing, on my shoulder.  His voice was grave when he answered me.  “Hobs don’t bond.”

I waved at the pair.  “Oh really?  Well I do know human women and what happens when we fall in love and I’m telling you they’ll meld together if they stay like that much longer.”

“Are you teasing?” Crispin asked quickly.

“Yes,” I rushed to assure him.  “Sort of.  I mean, you won’t be stuck together literally but on Earth when a man and a woman hold each other like that, that close, for so long - it means they really, really like each other.  Trust each other.  That’s not exactly a ‘hey, thanks for giving my car a jump or I’d still be stranded because of that damn battery’ hug.”

He nodded, looking both relieved and hopeful.  And completely confused.

“Bonded.” I emphasized.

He went back to looking freaked out.

“Okay, what in the H.E.-Double Hockey Sticks is wrong with that word?” I exploded – my voice vehement but hushed, in deference to the sleeping, traumatized woman in Crispin’s totally protective embrace.

I caught that Dohrein was giving Arokh a look.  I tipped back to see Arokh returning it over my head.  I moved into him, away from Dohrein.  “Spill it.” I snapped.

His brows went together.  “Tell me now,” I clarified.

“Hobs don’t bond. They can’t bond.  They must share their Gryfala with many hobs,” out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Crispin hugging his girl to his chest even harder, a savagely dark look on his face, “while a Rakhii male bonds only to his mate.  Where I come from, this is good, because a Rakhii’s mate bonds only to him.  But when a Rakhii is in a Gryfala’s guard, he cannot bond to her, because she can’t only be his.  A bonded Rakhii is dangerous, because he feels all the instincts he would have for a natural mate.  He joins to her on a chemical level; Rakhii die if separated.  What would otherwise be his one-and-only mate - just like he would be to her.  With a Gryfala, bonding to one means he will become… possessive.”

His grip on my hand tightened involuntarily.  “He will be unable to share her, and will attack even her own hobs in order to keep her for himself.  Bonding is a serious offense.”

He looked so… ashamed.

“Arokh?” I brought my hand up and up to reach his jaw.  He closed his eyes a moment, then he pulled back – but not before he grabbed that hand too and tugged me so that I was looking at him full on.  Serious.  I was getting a real bad feeling.

“A Gryfala by herself is not safe.  A Gryfala with a single guard is not safe.”

“Why are these Gryfala worth so much, anyway?”

He opened his mouth a moment, closed it.

It was Dohrein who summarized.  “Incredibly beautiful.  Unparalleled intelligence.  Wealthy.  Extremely Rare, and rarely taken off planet, which drives up interest, mythos, and black market worth.  They are the most cherished in the galaxy, they have no equal…”  He eyed me thoughtfully.  “Though you humans might just be a close second.”

“Thanks?”

Arokh tugged on my hands again to get my attention back on him.  “When a Rakhii bonds to a princess, he leaves her vulnerable because she only has a single male to protect her.  A male that can’t join her when she soars the skies, a male that cannot roost beside her in the rafters of the rookery-“ I thought I heard a pained sound from Cripsin, and I just bet he was wallowing in misery at that reminder, “and that male’s possessive, territorial urges will turn him insane every time she so much as steps away from his side.  And every time she nears another hob.”

“Have these males killed Gryfala?”

“No!”  He looked destroyed, and… resigned.  “But they have killed many good hobs.  Well trained, honorable, much-needed males.  Even ones that became their friends, hobs they’d stood beside for years.  That is why it is such a trespass.”

“What… happens?  To the Rakhii?”

He swallowed.  “If a Rakhii begins to bond… he is brought before the council.”

“What do they do?”

“Strip him of his titles.  Levy a censure fine on his family, and pronounce his family’s entire line as unfit for future service.  It is the worst crime a Rakhii can commit and it has repercussions for generations.”

“And it damages the Gryfala too.”  Dohrein added, as if he were driving a point home.  But not for me.  His words made Arokh grimace in pain and look away.  Oh yeah.  A bad, bad feeling.

When Arokh stayed silent, Dohrein continued.  “Understand that Gryfalas develop deep emotional ties to her males."  I could hear his eyes on Arokh as he said, “Especially to a demanding, overbearing male gaining ferocity in his feelings and acts of possession.  She spends time soothing him and placating him, even turning away her hobs in an effort to calm his rages.  Conversely, this only rewards his behavior, and he will grow worse.  When he eventually must be stopped, there is only one way to subdue a male.  He is beyond reason when she isn’t with him, when she spends time with hobs, and when she is on the ground with him eventually he won’t allow other males to even approach her.  And it tears her apart.  To see her males fighting each other, to see her males in pain.  It is excruciating for her, the heartsache.”  Dohrein sounded angry and worried now.  “Gryfalas have died.  That threat alone, plus the public humiliation and damage to their family is grave enough to make most Rakhii step back before they ever reach that level of territoriality.  But when it does happen.  When the male becomes unmanageable.  The council takes the only recourse it can.”

“They kill him.”  I say it.

Arokh closes his eyes.

Oh fuck.

His hands stop gripping mine – but he doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t let go.

And I know.  He has… bonded to me.

26

AROKH

Angie is upset.

I don’t know what to do.

After learning about bonding, I believe she realizes what I could not tell her.  I tried, but I couldn’t say the words.  Shame burns through me.

But it is so.  I can’t let her go now.  Not.  Ever.

“What do we do?”

I didn’t know she was still awake.  I roll up on an arm so that I can look down at her.  “About what, sweetling?”

She smiles at me.  “What do we do now?  If we go to the Gryfala planet…”

My hearts sink.

“They will kill you, won’t they?”

I watch her eyes shine too brightly when I nod.  “Don’t cry,” I beg.  There will be too many tears later.  I have ruined her.  I am afraid she won’t recover when she sees them put me down.  “Don’t watch.  When it happens.  Don’t watch.”

Her voice is watery and broken when she exclaims, “What are you even saying!”

I gently snag her chin.  When I tip it up, tears collect at the corners of her eyes, and spill over her cheeks.  I whisper, “Gryfalas are made to stay during the proceedings.  All the people are brought out to witness the trial.”

“That’s terrible!”

“It’s an example.  A lesson.  It reminds other Gryfala not to show favor, it reminds hobs that they need to keep tight control of her Rakhii guards.  And it is a lesson for other Rakhii.  To see a proud male put down, to know that his family is shamed and punished and to know that they never, ever want that to happen to them.  Nor to the Gryfala they themselves serve.”

I gather her against me, my hand on the back of her head keeping her tucked at my throat.  “And the Gryfala.  That is one of the greatest tragedies of all.”

Angie’s hands fist against my chest.

“A bonded Rakhii’s strongest instinct is to protect his Gryfala.  Yet by bonding to her, he ultimately creates inconceivable damage.  To everyone.  But especially to her.  If she has strong ties to her hobs - if she has any hobs left alive, she might recover.  But some do not.  Angie…”

My voice cracks.

“...They die.”

My arms flex around her, and she lets out a sob.  Then her arms come around my neck as she cries.  I sit up, and keep her hugged to me, just stroking her back.

The patch of floor illuminated by the corridor’s light is suddenly distorted in the shadowy shape of a talon and the edge of a folded wing.  Dohrein's out there, checking on Angie.

I didn’t even have to think about it.  I took my hand from her skin long enough to press the button that would seal the door closed.  That's when it hit me.  What I’d just done.

Again.

“What is it?” her voice was muffled likely because her nose was clogged and not just because she was pressed tenderly against my scales.

“Dohrein waits for you.  In the hallway.  I shut the door on him but… I… Angie, you need to make ties with him.  So that after-“

She grabbed one of my horns and shook it, making my head toss side to side.

“There is no after!”  She dropped my horn, breathing heavily.  I could only stare at her, stunned.  “I’m not Gryfala.  I’m a human.  I’m not one of them, I don’t belong on their planet, their laws and beliefs aren’t mine.  They aren’t yours either.  You’re bonded to me, aren’t you?”

I swallowed.  “Yes.”

“I’m bonded to you too!”

My hearts soared.

For a moment, we just stared into each other’s eyes.  And then she pressed both of her hands to my chest, and moved her legs on either side of my lap so that she had the leverage she needed to press me backwards.  My horns dug into the mattress as she crawled over my body, and planted a kiss to my lips.

I kissed her back.

My female.

My human.  With fervor.

27

ANGIE

I woke up starving.

I also woke up under that colorful blanket that could turn into a dress.  It was big enough to cover us both, and he’d been so careful when he was putting it over us.  It had been fascinating to watch – like the act was a ceremony in itself.  Maybe it was.

I put my hand - the one that had been clasped in Arokh’s - on his shoulder. He didn't stir.

I grinned to myself.  I’d exhausted a giant alien.  Me.

During the best sex I’d ever had.

I closed my eyes and relived some of it.  Wow.  I gave a deep inhale, and noted that sexy scent of his was even stronger.  And I smelled just like him.

Free perfume.  Or cologne - whatevs.  It was delicious.

Like nothing I recognized from earth, but it was masculine and dark and I wanted to stay in bed all day rolling in it.  Which was probably by some alien pheromone design, but - HUNGRY.  I had to do the hard thing and scrounge up food.

I bent so that I could press my lips to his scales before peeling his other hand from where it curled possessively around my arm.

Even in his sleep, he wanted to keep me with him.

All the soft feels.

I took a quick shower once I slapped the right spot on the wall.  Then I stumbled around the ghostly-quiet ship til I found … the mess hall?  What do they call the kitchen on a spaceship?

I was rummaging around in said kitchen, holding up containers with labels I couldn’t read, with pictures I didn’t recognize, when a male approached me.

“Need help?”

I looked up, and gave him a polite smile.  “Hi… Keke?”

He gave me a tired grin.  “Eeeeakan.”  There was a swallow in there.  Maybe a throat thrum.  Alien names.  Sigh.  If a name wasn’t programmed into my translator, then I was on my own with pronunciation.

Seeing my distress, he repeated it.  For my benefit, he exaggerated the pronunciation.

I think.

“E it is!” I proclaimed.

His lip quirked.  “Close enough.”

“How’s Beth?”

He nodded.  “She had been sleeping, but she woke and said she could eat.  I was just going to pick her favorites.  None of these were familiar to her and she has had a difficult time adjusting, especially at first – is it the same for you?”  He looked concerned.

“Yeah, you could say that.” I held up what looked like eyeballs.  A whole jar of them.  “Is this as gross as it looks?”

He chuckled like I was being absurd.  “I will help select the foods for you that I know she eats, if you will follow me and look in on her?”

“Of course I will.  Grab us sustenance and lead the way,” I said magnanimously, and added a wave for good measure.

He snorted.  “Princesses.”  He grabbed three different items, handed me plates, and said the next in such a flirty voice that I’d have been wary if I hadn’t seen how devoted he was to his Beth; “This way to the bedroom-“

Arokh flattened him.

“Arokh!  No!  That wasn’t what it sounded like, I swear!”

I wanted to wade in and help E, but I was not going to get in the middle of that.  It would be like getting between two rhinoceros; instant I’m-dead.  Nope, not for me to step between.  And either E realized how bad the words had sounded and was not fighting back, or he was no match for Arokh at all and his attempts at saving himself just looked like him getting his ass thrashed.

“Somebody Help!  Misunderstanding!  Bigtime!” I hollered.

Dohrein appeared.  “Bless you,” I said when he hauled E out from the danger zone and wing-slapped Arokh into focusing on something other than killing.

“Thanks for the subdue-effort,” I stage whispered to Dohrein.

He grabbed my elbow to steer me.  “I will bring you both provisions from now on.”

“It’s okay, we’ve got it covered-“

Dohrein shook his head meaningfully.  “That’s just it – you are not covered.  You bathed.”

My brows scrunched.  “Yeah.  So?”

He sighed and looked more disgruntled than usual.  “We need to purchase Rakhii soap.”  He looked me up and down.  “It will clean you without washing away his bonding scent.  It makes his kind more tolerable, less territorial.  Mostly.”

“There’s a… bonding… “

“He’s been leaving a secretion ...with you,” he said delicately.

“Eww!  Secretion?  And wait - mostly?”

His wings lifted in a gesture that looked suspiciously like a ‘whatta gonna do’ shrug.

“Great.  Thanks for telling me.”

He dipped his head before dodging aside so that Arokh wouldn’t flatten him when he moved to scoop me up.

“Big guy, wait!  I need to go check on Beth.”  Replaying what he just did to Beth’s man, I give him an unimpressed (yet irrepressibly affectionate) stare.  “Think you can take me there?  And not go insane on any of her guys?”

Arokh doesn’t answer me though.  He kisses me – hard – and takes off with me to our room.

“Hey!” I squawked indignantly when he let me go over the bed, making me bounce.

Then he dropped on top of me.

“Arokh!  I need to peek in on Beth, see that she’s alright-“

“After,” he might have grunted.

“Excuse me?” I narrowed my eyes at him.  It’s all I can do, really, because he has my wrists pinned on either side of my head, and his body is pinning mine.

“Wow, someone’s becoming bossy – and a caveman and-“

And that’s when he starts rubbing me.

No, not in that sexy way.  Well, not in the sexy way earthlings would be familiar with.  No, he drags his cheek across mine, licks down my neck, snuffles my chest, finds all the ticklish spots on my sides and belly, making the skin over my abdomen flutter and I can’t help the girlish shrieks that start to erupt.  “Ah!  Not this again!  That tickles!  Oh!  Enough, enough, Uncle!”

That stops him.

“What?” He growls.

“It’s um, a human saying.  It’s what you say when you want someone to stop tickling you.”

Another grunt that could be “Why?”  His hands still have my wrists pinned.  I’ve never been held down quite like this before, where I simultaneously feel so powerless and yet… I can feel him hard against my thigh.  I can see the devotion on his face.  The way he pins me but isn’t hurting me, not even bruising me?

I’m ready to fan myself.

But I can’t.

Because I’m being held down by a huge, hot, territorial male.

“I don’t know why.  Now you have me questioning if there is some disturbing, incestuous connotation to it though.  We’ll never know now!  Anyway.  Feel better now that you’ve smeared me in… secretion?”

I guess he lost even the ability for one-grunt answers because he simply starts kissing me again, and only lets go of my hands long enough to yank up my skirt.  I feel the back of his hand brushing against me as he desperately works to free himself from his suit.

Snarling a little, yanking at the fly.  The way his muscles bunch in his arm, oooh.

Slowly, carefully, I reach up and grab a horn in each hand and when he stills, and his eyes roll to look into mine, I say firmly, “I'm not going anywhere.”

He looks adorably confused, his brow scales bunching.

I grin.

“It's an expression.  What I’m saying is; I'm with you.  You are mine.  I am yours.  Forsaking all others: you are the only alien I want, the only alien I will ever want - heck I've never felt so... so cared for before you, even with my own ‘kind’,” I finger quote on that last word, and his eyes dart from my eyes, to my left hand, to my right hand, examining my motion, puzzling it out like he does - or trying to.

“Mine,” he finally growls, his voice so low I feel the thrum of the word between my legs.

“Yes!” I gasp.

If I thought he was desperate before?  Now Arokh is in a frenzy.

And doesn’t that just make a girl’s toes curl?  Having a guy go insane because he loves you so much he just has to rock your world.  Again.  Oh-so-good for the ego.

We lay there, still catching our breath, when he lifts himself up enough to retrieve that blanket, and pull it over us.  He then proceeds to tuck me in with it.  Like it means the world to him.  So carefully, that it makes my eyes sting.  I sigh, completely content.  “I love this blanket,” I mumble as I pet over the bright, pretty colors.

He goes still, and closes his eyes.

“Arokh?”

He looks at me – and suddenly, he has the biggest, happiest smile.  “What is it, babe?”

He covers my hand, and now we are both looking at the blanket’s bright, pretty colors.  His finger traces along one of the patterns.  “These blankets cannot be bought, can’t be copied, and are priceless.”

“How is it that they can’t be copied?  With the technology to travel through space, are you saying they haven’t figured out a way to pump out mass produced fabrics?”

He shook his head.  “Of course fabrics are made in mass quantity.  But it is impossible to make these.”

He tapped on one of the sort of oblongish shapes, one of the shiny ones that was sewn in pairs into each square pattern.

“What are they?”

“Scales.”

“Scales?”  I looked at him blankly.  Fabric plus dragon do not compute in my mind.  What is he saying?

“My parents each selected scales, ones with the greatest luster, and perfect edges.  They then gave their scales to my sister.  This one is my Sire’s,” he points to a beautiful purple-black shape.  “And this one,” he moves his finger tenderly over the blue shape next to it.  “This is my Dam’s.”

“Wow,” I breathe.

He nods.

I look at them all.  So many.  I reach for a beautiful red scale, and run my thumb over its smoothness.  “All these colors… this is a family tree blanket!  Amazing.”

“Mmhmm.  And this is writing,” he points to squiggly and bold flowing lines I had thought were just more decoration, “that identifies who the scales belonged to, so that a mate will know the parentage of her courter, and be proud to choose him.”

At this, he looks at me quickly.  “I do not care if you are unfamiliar with my family.”  Then he quickly adds, “But we are-”

I pull him to me by a horn.  “Hey.  If each one of these was half as amazing as you, then your family must be the biggest,” I punctuate the word with a kiss, “strongest,” another kiss, “bravest warriors ever,” I hold my lips to his this time.

“Our offspring won’t have a scale from you, but I will sew the words on myself, I will sew words of your beauty, and your resilience, and-”

For the record, when your man wants to list all your many, amazing attributes?

You let him.

When he finishes, he looks resolute.  “That way, our sons will have your legacy for their intendeds to see.”  He draws me closer to him, holding me tight before he whispers, “You don’t have to worry; our sons will find great happiness just as I have.”

Oh.  Aww!  Wow.  “Arokh…” and my voice sounds a little watery.

“Hush, sweetness.  Do not fret about this.”  And he kisses me.  And I love it that he doesn’t fret about this, and he is trying to make sure that I don’t.  And I have to set aside the fact that we could be making a litter right now (!) since I am not sure my birth control works against alien warrior, or for how long my birth control will be effective depending on how long it took for me to go from abducted-to-auctioned.

(!!)

I’ll have to ask Beth how far along she was before she woke up alien-side.  That will give us the timeframe…

I have to shake allll that away.  Because I am happy.  I am happy that Arokh is happy.  There isn’t a way to go home, and I have gone all my adult life hoping for what I have right here in his arms (the love between us, not the horns and fire, I can tell you I did not know to look for that or I’d have saved myself a whole lot of crap relationships), afraid I’d never find it because there are a shit-ton of jerks and I think I dated every one of them.

So I know.

I know Arokh is something special.

If he were a human guy?

I’d chain him in my basement and never let him go.

Hmm.  That was supposed to sound romantic, but even in my head that leans a few rolls of duct tape too close to the creeper side.  I squeeze Arokh back, and squirm underneath of him until he gives us both what we need.

28

AROKH

I massage the back of her neck.  I felt such a tender ache for her, something that couldn’t be sated by the act of mating.  It was more.  I kissed her.  And kissed her.  And then I drew back, still holding her so that she looked into my eyes.

“My brothers will be so…”

I shot up in bed.

“My brothers!”

I looked at her, instinct warring inside me.  This was exactly why mated pairs disappeared for weeks after the mating feast – I didn’t want us to leave this bed.  The instinct drove me to keep her nested with me, to breed with her until we were both sated, and just the smell of other males nearby makes me feverish to lay claim to her.

Again.

But I must reassure my family of my safety.  Call off their search for me.  I finally had the means to do it.

“I have to send a Comm.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of it right away - we must to go to the bridge.  Quickly.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, things were a little crazy there with a baby being born and all.  It’s okay, babe.  I’m with you.”

Creator, I loved her.

She rose and dressed – but this time, she pulled on the mating blanket to wear.  I felt my hearts expand and I helped her belt it around her neck and waist.

Then she pushed her forelock out of the way and thrust her front out.  “About to be near other males, right?  So I know how this goes.  I’m ready: lick me!”

I loved this female.

29

ANGIE

“Arokh!  Thank the Creator!  We’ve been waiting for you to signal us,” the male I met at the auction boomed.  “We searched everywhere for you two, and then we finally got word that two hobs created a bit of a stir when they marched off with a Gryfala and her big gladiator guard.  We hoped that was you.”

“We?”

“When I delivered our dear little sister home safe, I dumped that pod ship-“

Arokh sneered.

“-for Zadeon’s vessel.  And it’s a good thing too, because we ended up needing the space and it’s the only thing stronger than he is,” he muttered that last part.

“What did you need the space for?”

The hologram grinned so big I was blinded by white, white fangs.  He tugged someone into the holo-viewer with him.

A human someone.

“Hi!” she waved, and now I was being crazy possessive because I was secretly pleased when Arokh only politely nodded but kept his arms around me instead of waving back.  Okay, it wasn’t such a secret.  I loved it and I wanted him to know it and his arms were around me but my hands were free.

So I reached back to squeeze his ass in silent thanks.

He grunted, surprised, so I did it again and I felt him growing hard at my back.

“Nice to see another human,” I returned, “that makes four of us safe!” And I felt relieved.  And hopeful for the others.  Man, these Rakhii were awesome human-hunters.  That planet had been huge.

“Make that five then – we've got another girl on this ship.”  But the smile had taken a dive off of her face.

And all Arokh’s brother’s teeth were no longer showing.

Just his fangs.

“What is the matter?” Arokh asked slowly.

“When Zadeon came upon a female, she was…”

“Getting passed around by mean-ass aliens,” the woman finished grimly.

I shuddered.

Arokh’s embrace had tightened from affectionate to protective - and reassuring.  “Go on.”

“He killed them all, and brought her back to the ship but… she isn’t responding well.”

Arokh made one of those noises that vibrated in his big cute nose.  “That is tragic.”

“Yeah, and every time she has a nightmare and starts screaming, he completely loses it,” the woman added with a grimace.

His brother shook his head.  “I was afraid that if he didn’t stop, he’d do damage to the ship.  I tried to lock him down.”

Arokh winced.

His brother twisted slightly, showing damaged scales that were a darker color, and not as shiny.  “I’ve never been able to best him, and this time was no different.”

“How did you stop him from tearing the ship apart then?”

“I told him he was terrifying the females.  He just… it was like a switch flipped.  And then he chained himself in cargo.”

“Is the hurt female alone?  Is that safe?”

“She’s as okay as she can be,” his brother’s woman said.  “She snuck into the cargo hold and is staying near Zadeon.  Sometimes we hear him talking quietly to her, and she hasn’t had a panic attack in awhile.  It seems like a good sign.”

A high pitched wail suddenly sounded.  Then a roar, followed by a crash.

His brother sighed.  “Reset.”

“Um… aren’t you going to go check on them?”

The woman’s face twisted in wry amusement.  “Trust us.  It’s better if we don’t.  He calms down much faster if it's just the two of them.”

“No perceived threats that way,” agreed the brother.

“What happens now?”

“We were hailed by a hob ship a few clicks before you Commed.  It seems that they have a human female also, and are looking to band together with Rakhii for greater odds of protection.  They took her from some very rich Luvuuds and are watching their backs for retaliation.  They had many questions for my woman, and their female was greatly relieved to clarify a few things with one of her people.”  He hesitated, then added, “I thought it might be a good idea to go somewhere where we could all discuss safely, where the women could commune and where all of the males caring about them could also.  There is much to learn.  ...I have already set something in motion.”

Arokh made a reverberating call – again, from his nose.  That was so beyond weird.  And scary sounding, no matter how many times he assured me it wasn’t always threatening.  His brother even seemed to take that as assent, and they began to talk logistics.

Thus, those of us that had been rescued from that auction pen were reunited and that was great.

It just didn’t go exactly as planned.

30

ANGIE

After the boys agreed to visit this shindig, I barely had time to wave to Beth before the males were ushering us into seats and strapping us (and Baby) into harnesses for atmospheric touch down safety.  I was only feeling a little nauseous - but I didn’t puke, thanks to Beth’s Resale Technicians: they had all the goods.  One of which was a chewable tablet that tasted like socks but kept my cookies down.  I gripped Arokh’s hand and didn’t let go even after the ship powered down, after we lined up and left down the ramp, and definitely not when we stepped onto purple dirt and were surrounded by aliens.  Lots, and lots, and lots of aliens.  And peeking out, I spotted a few humans, all tucked affectionately into the sides of or protectively kept behind a male.

It was quiet for so long that I was almost bouncing with nerves.  And eventually I couldn’t take it anymore.  “What now?” I hiss-whispered to Arokh.

He eyed  me, then looked back at the crowd.  “We wait for the G-… humans to tell us.”

“Oh.”  I waited too.  And I looked around, knowing one of us needed to emerge as a leader, so I waited.

And waited.

Then I had that feeling - that trepidatious feeling you get when you just know that moment before the magician on stage is going to pick you out of everyone sitting in the rows to drag you up in front of the crowd – so I decided to just girl-up and go for it.

“Hi everybody!” I was sure that I shouted it for the gathering to hear, but for all the volume I thought I had, I might as well have been miming.  I cleared my throat and stepped forward – and heck no I still did not let go of Arokh.

“We’re gathered here today,” oh geez, I thought, this isn’t a wedding.

The sound of feminine titters - what an odd word - flared up quietly.  “Um… “  Don’t say ‘um’!  I could feel my face heating and all of the rules for giving speeches junior high through high school came zooming over me.  I once had this bitch of a teacher, who used to-

I felt Arokh squeeze my hand.

That made me feel a little braver, and that made me realize that nobody knew me.  I could pretend to be brave, and for once, don the take-charge kind of personality, like a cloak.  Uber confidence: meet me.  I took a week of drama 101, before I’d dropped it for a ceramics class.  I could do this.  I tried to pick out the humans in the crowd with my gaze.  It wasn’t that it was difficult to tell them apart, more like it was difficult to see them behind their males.  “Look.  We’re here so we can compare notes and discuss plans.  Cover all those questions that you have and see if we can answer them.  Uh, let’s see… do all the women have translators?”  I looked around at all the different – some of them very different – looking aliens.  “And do the translators work for all languages by chance, or will only a few alien tongues be making sense?”

One woman began making her way through the throng, and instead of holding onto her alien’s hand, he had ahold of her.  He was a great big male, and he gripped her above her elbow, like he was afraid if he let her go, someone else would swoop in and take her.  A glance around and I noticed a lot of hungry, hungry looks from the males that had no female and I thought this guy had the right idea.  Provided that he was a good alien to her, of course.  He looked agitated, and protective, but he’d taken the time to show up here to get help with his girl.  That had to be a good sign, right?

“How do I get one of these translators?” she asked, and I tried to place her accent.  African, maybe?  “I desperately need to communicate,” she said, and gestured to the guy that loomed over her as he glared down all the slavering others eyeing his girl.  “He hasn’t hurt me but… but we are having difficulties.”

I cut the air with my hands.  “Oh yeah.  I know exactly how that is.”

Arokh frowned down at me.

I patted his arm.  “You’re awesome, hon.”

He snorted, but after a moment more of stroking his skin, he appeared to be appeased.

I looked back at my team.  “Do we have translators to pass out?”

One of Beth’s men looked over the women that were now coming forward since the seal of awkward had broken.  “We can equip a few.  For a price.”

Beth rolled her eyes, and I figured she’d heard this expression before.  If you get into bed with five black-market-wizards, I guess you had to learn to live with a few quirks.

“Since he knew to show up here, someone must speak his language?”

Beth’s guy nodded and headed towards the couple.

A big, really, really fuzzy tabby cat orange alien stepped forward.  “We have some for women also.”

I nodded.  “Let’s make that happen.”

“My female is hurt.”

I looked around until I spotted the speaker.  “Not good!  Bring her here and… any doctors here?  Nurses?  Raise hands.  A Veterinarian?  Hey!  Where’s that girl with the dog?  I hope they’re okay.  Gynecologists?  Oooh, an Obstetrician would be particularly handy-“

“I’m a dentist.”

“Fabulous!  Close enough.  Right this way, please.”  She rolled her eyes at me and I shrugged.  “Got any better ideas?”

“Yeah, do any of these guys have a little more specialty in their med training, more than filling cavities?”

The hobs, of course, wanted to assist in any way they absolutely, positively could and it turned out they could patch through with a lot since we were surface comparable to Gryfala.

Mostly.

Beth and baby were a HUGE hit and instantly became the star attraction; seeing an infant was fascinating to all the aliens but especially the hobs and Rakhii.  Beth (and Beth’s men) weren’t letting anyone touch though - in fact, they forbade it citing fear of inhospitable antibodies - but they fielded questions like mad crazy.

Troubling though was the topic of consent.  And by that, I mean we didn’t have any say on how a Gryfala was treated by her alien keeper(s).  Apparently, to even assemble this summit, the guys had to extend a temporary safe zone where females could not be taken by force from her owner.  Now, if some of the loners hanging around wanted to steal a girl?  They could always tag and follow the ship off surface and hunt them down, try their luck.  But that was their deal and way above my pay grade.

Thankfully, everyone that showed up was (technically) kind to their woman - even if their behavior was alarming by human standards.  More than once I heard, “She stays with me,” growled out over a woman’s protesting – and nobody could say otherwise.  Women were the property of aliens here, and completely belonged to them.  It was a hard thing to accept.

But the fact that males chose to show up when very clearly they believed there was risk of having their girl stolen by others?  They took that risk so that they could better understand their female.

It could be worse.

It made for a lot of posturing and growling though, and I had to wonder how the loners even got invites, yikes.  They stared at us women like we were dishes at a buffet table.

It kept everybody a little on edge.

Like really.

Fights broke out.

But they never lasted long - because nobody could afford to leave their girl vulnerable - because another alien was right there to try to swoop her up.

I observed a lot.  Learned that with aliens you had to expect the unexpected.  Case in point: two aliens were standing near each other.  They didn’t even try to hide the way they were checking out the other alien’s woman.  Some mutual understanding must have passed because they swapped girls - just like that!  Beth and I freaked, but they weren’t breaking the rules.  No humans were harmed; there was nothing to be done and it wasn’t our call.

Lots of things weren’t our call, even though on many matters we were deferred to like we were royalty.  Royalty with our own sexy secret service.  “What’s up with them?” I whispered as I jerked my head in the direction of the hovering hobs.

“Gryfalas cannot be kept together peacefully.” Dohrein said this like, ‘You females.  Cute but crazy.’

I rolled my eyes and Beth laughed.  “Guys!  Humans have socializing skills down pat.  You can back off a little.”

Dohrein did not look convinced.  In fact, he just gave us a grim smile.

I looked to Arokh for backup, but he was eyeing the other women with distrust, and that was when I noticed that he’d been guiding me gently this way and that to avoid me getting bumped by them.

“Arokh, it’s okay, really!”

But it was clear we’d just have to prove it.

We milled.  Chatted.  Women introduced themselves and their men.  We called for an orderly breakdown of topics – hit big questions first, and then we’d discuss problems, share knowledge - therapy could wait for later.

It wasn’t long before my stomach started to growl.  Arokh tensed beside me.

“That was just my stomach,” I made sure to clarify.  “I’m not about to attack anyone,” I joked.

“I know this.” He replied.  He looked around for Dohrein, probably to ‘secure sustenance’.  That poor dude.  He was our bitch.

“Ummhmm.” I said as I wandered over to a woman named Ella.  She was a nice girl, I liked her.  “Hey,” I greeted.

“I’m hungry,” she complained.

Beth was there too and smiled wearily as she reluctantly handed off her baby bundle to one of the guys.  They each wanted turns rocking her.

“Hey, Hungry,” Beth said.  “I’m Tired.”

“Great,” a girl named Gracie muttered.  “This is like the fucked up cast of dwarves.  ‘Meet Bitchy,” she used her thumb to tap her chest, “and Bossy,”  she indicated me with a head jerk - as if I’d been bossy?  I was organizing!  “-and Hungry, and Weepy,”  Then she motioned to Beth as she continued, “and over there’s Trampy-“

Beth gasped, and right before she lunged she gave a feral sounding snarl, “You’re dead!”

But she never connected.  Arms carefully came around her, and Dohrein pulled Bitchy out of the crosshairs.  Arokh had me in his arms and backed out from the ruckus just in case a stray hairband snapped our way or something.

I caught the males’ significant looks over their heads.  Despite protests to the contrary they’d expected this.  Because as far as they knew females could not make nice.

“’We’re better’ we said.  ‘We can get along’ we said.  Boy we proved them wrong in…”  I checked my space watch, the one Dohrein procured for me that Arokh glared at him for but would never begrudge me.  It had entertained me all day.  “In bursts, and some sort of rat thing, whatever measure of time that is.  Nice job, ladies.”

“Fuck you,” Gracie muttered.

You know what?  From here on out, she was 'Bitchy' to my mind.  And hey - she’d called it herself.

Arokh went stiff and I heard his tail snap.  I turned in his arm so that I could grab a horn.  “It’s okay babe.  She’s just being testy, not literally sexual.”

“Testy?”  He didn’t take his narrowed eyes off of her.

“We can’t all be happily in love with an alien.” Her tone was acid.  “Especially when some of these guys have gills and suckers they want to keep touching you with all night long,” she groused.

It was then that I saw a vibrant alien not far behind her, who ducked his head, bright yellow suffusing his throat.  Right over gill slits.

Oh.

He turned away, but couldn’t seem to make himself step far from her.

“Poor guy,” I whispered.

“Aneark.  An amphibious species that also prizes females.  They are gentle to them,” Arokh provided.  “She has shamed him.”  And he sounded sad too.

A different alien stepped forward, this one with skin like a hard shiny shell.  He bent and whispered something to Bitchy who screeched, “Fuck no!  Get away from me!”

The Aneark whirled and reached towards him – and electric orange bolts jolted from his palms.

“Gentle?!” I screech-whispered to Arokh as the hard shelled guy dropped to the ground, flopping uncontrollably.

Arokh sighed, his breath ruffling the hair behind my ear.  “To them, I said.”

My attention was immediately diverted however by the sound of wailing coming from the other direction.

“This isn’t earth!  I told you, I need to go home, I need to get home, you don’t understand!  My ba-“

“Could you tone it down?”  Bitchy grumbled.

Beth made a noise that caused her guys to go on alert.  Even I didn’t know a human could growl like that.  “Would you shut up?”

The newcomer alien was cradling the incredibly distraught woman, and he looked a little bit harassed.  He was tall, though not as massive as a Rakhii.  But then again, who was?

I brushed my hand along Arokh’s forearm, as much to comfort myself as it was to comfort him.  He didn’t like seeing a woman in distress.  Gosh, he was great.

He linked our fingers, and I opened my mouth, but the new alien beat me to speaking.

“My mate cries.  I must find out what is causing her to hurt.  Can you help me?”

Beth’s entrepreneurial… quint?  What did one call a group of five studs?  A stable?  Heh.  I snickered, and the new alien looked at me sharply, his face darkening even more.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that even Arokh was looking at me like I had grown another arm.  “No, I’m sorry – not you, I swear, I was just… bad timing.  Forget me over here, please.”

Beth’s entrepreneurial stable perked up at this alien’s obvious desperation, as they whipped out a space-credit-reader and positively robbed this nice, concerned male in exchange for pressing their wicked looking translator applicator gun to the woman’s ear, making her whimper.

Then scream.

You know, that was probably the worst part of the day.  After hearing just the first few of those get injected, my nerves were shot.  It was like rabbits under the tattoo gun.  I did feel a little better about my reaction though.

But hearing his girl scream?  That was apparently a great big no-go (and he wasn’t the only one to react badly to his woman’s pain) But this male howled and turned… dangerously spotted.

I mean, I could only assume it was dangerous, because Arokh dragged me back like the man was emitting poisonous gas.

I burrowed half into Arokh’s side – fuck knew this thing could be emitting poisonous gas.  I covered my nose and mouth with my hand.  Just in case.

I felt stupid and almost dropped my hand - until Arokh pressed his over mine.  Oh shit…

But Beth’s guys were pros, and had been soothing ruffled feathers since the first translator-injection of the day.  “Speak female.  Tell your mate that you are fine now.”

Her voice came out a little hysterical.  “My what?”

Her male took a deep breath, and his spots were fading right before our eyes as he focused on the bundle in his arms.  “Are you alright, my mate?”

“I’m-I’m-you-my-“

The male’s head whipped towards Beth’s men.  “The translator appears to be faulty and you caused my mate pain administering it.  I am displeased.”

Spots coming back…

Beth stepped forward and snapped her fingers at the woman.  “Hon, tell him you’re fine.”

The woman blinked back more tears and said, “I’m fine.”

Beth looked at the alien now.  “The translators work.”  She gestured to the gathering of women.  “Many happy customers.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bitchy said, rubbing behind her ear.

Beth ignored her, turning back to the woman.  “Now.  You okay?”

The woman nodded shakily.  Beth gave a small, almost imperceptible, sigh of relief.  "Wonderful.  Take a deep breath and tell your man what’s freaking you out.”

At that moment, a baby’s cry rang out, and the Stable passed the unhappy little girl to her Mom.

And the new woman looked gutted.

“I have to get home - my babies need me!”

Everyone.  Froze.

And she burst into tears.

31

ANGIE

“Fledglings?  Alone!”

“-Kittens, all by themselves-“

“If we gather a search party-“

The conversations were flowing fast around us in all sorts of languages after the new woman, Tara, told her story.

It was like aiming a flamethrower at a propane tank.  Big, fucking ka-boom.

The males couldn’t stomach leaving kids orphaned on an “alien” planet – but the males with claimed females were afraid their women would want to go back home to stay there now that a ship might be traversing galaxies to reach the mystery blue planet we all hailed from.

It was causing a bit of a hullabaloo.

And the aliens that didn’t have a woman of their own?  They were lining up for the mission, as helpful as you please.  I had a feeling the return ship would be full of captive stowaways if these guys got their chance.

I was standing off to the side.  Still trying to process the implications.

A ship going to earth.  An opportunity to go home.

The feelings churning inside me were not difficult to parse out.  Did I want to live like an alien for the rest of my life?  No!  It was scary and I missed home - and this was all so insane and if I went back, I could do my best to pretend this had all been a really, really bad dream.

But…

There was an arm at my waist, and the warmth of a strong, muscled body against my back.  Holding me.  Shielding me.  Devoted to me.

I’d gotten addicted to this affection, the adoration, the protectiveness, the amazingness that was my alien.

...And he was mine.

There was no question: it would hurt like a mother to walk away from him.

And it felt disloyal to even think it, but… Would I ever find anything comparable back home?

I hadn’t.

I’d never had anything even remotely close to the incredibleness that was Arokh (as a male, not an alien - totes obvs) back home.

And what would I do when I had to go back to lukewarm indifference in a relationship?  Mediocre sex?  I shook my head.  That was too kind.  The terrible sex.  The bad sex.  And the cheating bastard boyfriends.  The emotionally absent boyfriends.  The unaffectionate boyfriends.  I gritted my teeth.  Ugh, those guys.  Then there was the guy that I was pretty sure was stealing from me.  Weird things and I swear, money.  I could never prove it, and when I got smart about watching him, he decided ‘us’ was too much work.

I was unsatisfied in the partner department long before I was abducted and went to the Alien side.  But now?  It would be intolerable to go with anything… not… Arokh.

And could I go back to work, deal with the insanity of customers demanding their vegetable peeler arrive the very next day or else they wanted a refund of the product and a credit for their inconvenience over their ordeal?

Ordeal.  Ordeal.  They had no idea what an ordeal was.  No idea.

I would go insane.  I would want to shake people.  Or do worse.  And I might become the crazy lady who wore slippers and floral printed muumuus and pointed at strange shapes in the sky declaring that more aliens were coming for her – and I would really always wonder.

Assimilation back into society.  Pretending to be normal.  I could already feel my brain screaming.

If earth became aware of alien life, then I’d be thrust into the spotlight – if the government didn’t grab me and test on me for the rest of my natural life like all the creepy tv show/book scenarios.  I actually imagined that might happen.  Hard to blame them.  This was huge.  But needles, psychoanalysts, doctors.  I couldn’t even fool myself: I was fucked no matter what went down once I got home.  There was no “back to normal” for me.

Not ever again.

Or I could… I could stay.

When my hands clenched on the arm under my breasts, a hand threaded through my fingers.  Easy, just like that.  Like it was nothing.

But it might be everything.

I could stay with him and have this.

Become an outlaw along with my alien and have no idea what our future would even look like.

But I’d be loved.  Cherished - in absolutely every sense of that word.  He’d die to keep me safe.  Love me forever.

I glanced up at Arokh, trying to gauge his mood.  He’d been very tense, and smoke had curled from his nostrils with every exhale after Tara had shared her really big deal.

“Hey,” I tugged at one of his wrist spikes.  They were flexing in and out.  Not a good sign.

He looked down at me, and smoke suddenly filled my vision.  I batted it away the same moment he did, and our hands hitting each other caused him to curse.  “Please, forgive me my Angie!”

I blinked.  “It’s fine…”

He grasped both my hands, forcing me to face him fully and his eyes were intense.  I found out why as he burst out, “You cannot leave me!”

Ugh, my chest ached at the agony written all over him.

His jaw went hard, and his chin lifted, even more smoke trailing before he said low, and vehemently, “I will not let you go.”

“A-”

“I will never let you go.”

“Arokh-“

He closed his eyes, and he made an anguished thrum deep in his chest.  “If you must return to your Earth, I will remain at your side.”

“You can’t-!”

“No!”  Arokh shook my hands a little – gently.  Urgently.  “I will.  I must.  Angie, I cannot be apart from you.  I don't want to be apart from you.”

And he looked deep into my eyes, his expression pleading.  “It would destroy me.”

I twisted so that my fingers caught his big ones, and I squeezed until some of the wildness ebbed from his face.  “You know what, big guy?  I’m pretty much all-in, head-over-heels, crazy-in-love with you.”

A rattling noise from him now, with a drumming undertone.  He had told me the other day that it was “purring”, and he was so proud to be able to “comfort me with it” that I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that it was scarier than any purring that I’d ever heard before.  And at the moment, I guessed that he was trying to comfort himself as much as he was me.

"This is a strange declaration," he observed.  Then, as if he required further confirmation, he carefully continued.  "Does this-"

“Arokh.  Don’t be an idiot.  I don’t want to leave you either."  I brought his hand up and kissed it.  "And I’m not going to.”

I was nearly hugged to death by an alien.

32

ANGIE

Another ship touched down.  It was Arokh’s brothers, finally making it to the gathering and it reminded me of human family get togethers where everyone wants out of the car, and while all the occupants are thrilled to have arrived - everyone’s already snarly from such a long drive so you have to give them their space before they’re ready to mingle.

The snarly one would be the monster that is Arokh's biggest brother, Zadeon.

Hoooollly shit.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because they brought food.  Food we liked.  That was a big deal - huge.  Because others had tried coaxing us humans to eat and were amused (and/or frustrated) to find out how ‘picky’ we were - even more than normal for a Gryfala.

Thankfully for me, Arokh found this trait to be “quite precious”.

Yeah.  I was totally getting spoiled with this kind of reception to my ‘quirks’.

The guys set up a table of foods, and even erected a tent big enough to fit all of us, giving shade from the suns.

Initially there was some disagreement about placement of said tent, necessitating a heated discussion to be settled by the brothers cracking their horns together.  The noise was deafening - and more than a little nerve racking.

I spilled my drink down my front.  “Knock that off!”

Looking chagrined, they shot us sheepish looks reminiscent of little boys, not giant hulking aliens.

To make up for it, Arokh hand selected my food.

Which was fine; this was after all our modus operandi and I certainly didn’t know what would be to my taste.  Now, I pointed to the blue sphere in Arokh’s palm.  He’d tried offering me one earlier but I hadn’t been feeling very adventurous - until he snacked on them for awhile and made them look especially good.  “What are those?”

The food halfway to his mouth, he stopped, then popped it into my mouth instead.  “Mmm,” said thoughtfully as I chewed.  Then I noticed many of the alien guys around us were staring.

I swallowed.  “What’s up?”

“He gave you his food.”

“You’ve seen him give me food plenty of times,” I said this to Dohrein, who was also giving us a weird look.

“I have seen him feed you, of course.  But not share his portion of food.  That is…”  Dohrein’s brows scrunched.  “Rakhii are normally extremely food aggressive and possessive.  His kind are even given a wide berth at public functions and at ins where food is served.”

“He shares with me.”  And yeah, I might have said it a little smugly.

“I share with my Angie unconditionally,” Arokh agreed, his voice a low rumble at my ear.

“It’s a sign of extreme affection in his culture,” Dohrein continued, and the scholarly side of him was peeking out.  “I’ve read that even mated pairs don’t always share.  I know for a fact that, in service, Rakhii guards aren’t expected to share with their Gryfala – though she wouldn’t eat from anyone but her hobs under normal circumstances anyway.”

I felt another odd little thrill knowing that my alien showed me in all the ways he could how much he cared.

Later, Arokh informed me that he’d overheard hobs saying that it was good for Gryfala digestion to walk after a full meal, to which I confirmed this was true of humans also - thus we strolled, Arokh keeping me at his hip, with my arm reached as far as it could wrap around his back… which wasn’t far.  It was companionable, it was nice, it was quiet, until we stumbled right into a conversation led by Bitchy.

“So hobs are basically housewives.  What, exactly, does a Gryfala do all day?”

“Anything she wants,” a hob answered slowly.

“Of course.”

Cue much eye rolling.

“Many females concentrate on design-,”

Bitchy scoffed - some of the other women shushed her… while the rest seemed to agree with her.

“-Ship design, Weapon design, planning superior fleet upgrades, the study of antiviral treatments to be used in treaties with other planets-“

“Wait, what?”

“Seriously?”

The hob looked around at our stunned faces.  Then he whipped out a tablet and rattled off the careers of his hob friends’ dams as further examples.

“Mind.  Blown.”  I muttered, rocking back on my heels.  “Is it just me, or was everyone else expecting empty-headed, glitter-loving bimbos?”

“What’s wrong with glitter?”

Kate leaned around the others so she could meet my eyes as she raised her hand.  “Right here; me too.”

“Instead, we have freaking nuclear physicists, weapons designers, chefs, agriculture gurus, and a dean of the… wait, you said the school.  You almost make it sound like it's the only one, period.  But there are multiple schools that hobs go to, right?”

The hob shook his head.  “No.  Just one.”

“Only one school for an entire planet?  How is that possible?”

“It is very exclusive.”

“Yeah, it only takes males.”

He nodded proudly.  “Gryfala can go to any number of schools to learn their desired trade or profession.  But only the best hobs are eligible for the study of service.”

“What do you mean?  What happens to the hobs that aren’t eligible?  Who decides-“

“Unh uh - we’ll have to get back to that in a minute.  I’m still on the List of Success.  Anyone else feeling really, really inadequate right now?” Bitchy looked around, and now I raised my hand.

Arokh pushed it down with a frown.

Kate shrugged.  “I’m a microbiologist.”

“Hey, cool!  I’m a marine biologist.”

I stared at them.  “Damn.  Did anyone else wrap foot longs for a living?”

Bitchy cocks an eyebrow.  “Is that a euphemism?”

Beth chortles.  “Does doing that now count?  With multiple guys?  Just asking.  You know.  Because I do,” she said smugly.  With reason.  Hovering all around her were her, erm, owners-of-fabled-foot-longs and trust me, I had heard the tales.  Details.  They all, and I mean all.  Her stable of them.

I started snickering.

“What?”

“I came up with a term for your hot guys,” I say.

“Yeah?  I call them my hunks.”

“I was thinking they were studs!  So I decided they were a Stable.”

Her drink sprayed all over Bitchy.

“I have a question for the human collective,” Dohrein said, and we settled down.  A little.  “Is it true that wings and claws are not normally present in humans?”

"True story.  We don’t have them at all.”

“What are your other biological defenses or adaptive traits?”

“Umm… We don’t really have biological defenses.  Not natural ones.”

The aliens had gone very, very quiet.

“How do they keep themselves safe?” one whispered.

“Must be a gentle planet.”

Thinking of all the stings-by-scorpions, wasps, and snake bites and attacks by wild animals, attacks by domestic animals, not to mention plain attacks by people on people, I answered that one. “Noooot really.”

Bitchy made a very snotty face.  “Try not at all.”

“She’s not wrong,” Beth added grudgingly.  “And women are the same as your females in that we’re not a physical match for men.  In most places, women aren’t safe alone, and in some countries women live and congregate with other family or cluster in groups of friends both for company and protection.”

“Are these groups of friends made up of males?” one of Beth’s men asked darkly.

“Nah.  There’s more women than men on our planet, and the single women tend to get together to commiserate their… lack of a mate.”

The air crackled.  I glanced at Bitchy’s electro-boy, and thought maybe he was giving off some sort of charge.

Saw all the faces around us.  Disbelief, hope, greed.

“There are females in need of mates?”

“WHERE is this planet?” Another demanded.  He must have been late to the party, because I’m pretty sure he’d otherwise have already jumped on the rescue-Tara’s-kids-mission.

One word: pandemonium.

Yeah.  They were soooo going to glean from little planet earth.

By the time everyone calmed down, I was feeling a little drained.  A knuckle went under my chin and applied pressure until I was looking into Arokh’s tender gaze.

“Tired?” he asked softly.

I smiled at him.  “Mmm-hmm.  A little.”

He took my hand, and led me to a patch of shade where he reclined against a big boulder.

He patted over his heart(s).

I rested on top of him, and even started to drift off.  But gasps had me jerking back to consciousness.

“Like a snake!  Eww!  How would you even know?”

“Because I saw.  They didn’t even wait to take her somewhere else – as soon as they paid for her and the auctioneer hauled her out they dragged her to the ground and – they... - right there!”

“Shhh!  Shut up, look, she’s crying!”

“Oh, shit - I didn’t think she could hear us, you know?  She’s just been laying there, staring off all day, you know?  I feel bad-”

I was struggling up, (hey, a full belly slowed me down a little) with Arokh rising lithe and quick behind me, and we both moved to see where the catatonic girl was curled up.  Arokh’s brother had set her down very carefully earlier in the afternoon - making a nest out of some sort of gel cushions that he’d brought from the ship.  He hadn’t strayed from her side all day.

And she hadn’t moved, or spoken, or shown any interest in anything happening around her.

But now she was sobbing silently.  The gossipers were frozen, looking ashamed.  Stupid cows!  They couldn’t have moved further away to recount the girl’s rape?

But Arokh’s extremely grim, extremely huge, extremely terrifying brother gave them a killing look, possible evidence that not all Rakhii were ‘incapable’ of harming a female (if that female had caused hurt to his female, that is) and he swooped down, scooping the catatonic girl up - and was surprisingly tender when he gathered her to his chest.  He walked to a corner of the tent, speaking softly to his girl until the tears stopped rolling down her cheeks.

Arokh had an odd look on his face.  I thought it was because of his brother, but then he looked up sharply.

A moment later, the sky darkened.

I started to look up too, and nearly tripped when Arokh gave a muted alarm call.

“What is it?” I breathed.

His arms came around me and suddenly I was up, and he was running with me.  He was headed for the ship, and looking over his shoulder, I saw other males grabbing females and running for their own vehicles.  Briefly, amidst the panic taking over my mind I contemplated that in the very middle of this chaos would be a good time to snatch a woman who wasn’t being protected closely, but then again, what male would have stepped far enough away from his girl for that to happen?

Thank God not mine.  I wrapped my arms around Arokh’s neck and held on.  We’d almost made it to the ramp, Dohrein racing to reach our side, when the ramp sucked backwards and just disappeared.

“What the…”

“They are taking off,” Dohrein grated.

“Those-!”

Arokh gave me a slow stroke starting at the back of my head, and dragging down my spine.  Firm.  Almost resigned.  “They waited as long as they could.  They have a youngling and their own female to protect.”  He spun us around.  “Did my brothers get away?”

Dohrein moved so that his back bumped to Arokh’s.  They searched for a moment.  “I see the large one - the one with the damaged female.  She’s… Oh no...”

“Creator…” Arokh exhaled the word so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

“What!  What is going on?”  I tugged on one of his spines to get his attention.

Behind me, I heard the soft poof, and felt a strange ripple - the sensation one I’d come to learn over the course of the day was the feeling of a ship quietly making its landing.

Dohrein spun, and both he and Arokh were staring at whatever was behind me.  With dread, I craned my neck to look too.

The ship was unlike any I’d seen yet.  No wonder it had darkened the sky; it was a massive monster of a vessel, and I could say that with authority since I’d seen serious shipage today.

A ramp touched the ground, and many, many booted feet began to bang down it.

“Arokh…”

“Shhh,” he soothed, and began petting me again, his voice tight.

“It doesn’t look like many were able to override the lockdowns,” Dohrein said.

“What lockdowns?”

Troubled eyes met mine.  “Protocol.  They lock all ships for detainment, and it would take excellent skill to break a ship free from it in time.”

“In time for…” I made a rolling motion with my hand which Dohrein watched with a curious expression before he shook himself.

“In time to get away.”

“From who?  Who are they?”

A voice barked loudly at my back, making me jump in Arokh’s arms.  He tightened his hold and tried purring for me, but it was obvious he was too stressed to give it his full attention.

“GENTLY PLACE THE GRYFALA ON THE GROUND.  DO NOT ATTEMPT RETALIATION OR WE WILL ACT WITH FORCE.”

Arokh looked at me then.  And his eyes were sad, tortured - and I was beyond scared.  “Don’t put me down,” I pleaded.

“I have to,” he said, voice ragged.  “Angie do not fight.  They will not hurt you.”

I hadn’t been worried about me – I should have been, I mean, it wasn’t like I’d met more nice aliens than really, really scary ones, but I was worried for Arokh.  And Dohrein.

I looked around then, but Dohrein was gone!  No - my heart calmed a little – there he was, but he’d moved away, was being shaken down, and he was gesturing wildly, shoving away accusing hands and looking even angrier than his normal self.

And the wall of aliens ignored him.

And they were coming for us.

I clung onto Arokh’s arms, and even when my feet touched the ground, I wouldn’t let him go.  He was going to have to pry me off, I thought.

It turned out, I was wrong.

A hand landed on my shoulder, “Prin-“

Arokh went insane.  He swelled up like a cobra and his tail lashed around to nail the guy that dared to touch me.  The next thing I knew, Arokh’s fangs were bared and dripping and our attackers were prying Arokh off of me – a mass of bodies landed on him, pinning him to the ground, tearing him from me.

I screamed.

Arokh roared, and threw one male clear off in his effort to gain his feet.

“Angie, you can’t scream!”  Dohrein yelled.  “You have to stop.  Right now!”

They shoved a black stick into Arokh’s back.  He lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas; literally light haloing him for a moment before he collapsed.

“NO!” I shrieked, and Arokh revived, struggling again.  I intended to run to him, to do what exactly I didn’t know; if Arokh was being brought down, then I had absolutely no chance, but arms snatched me.  “Let me go!  Fucking let me go!” I screamed again, so angry, scared.

Arokh bellowed in response and finally made it to his feet.

They nailed him with that stick again.

A hand clamped over my mouth and Dohrein growled in my ear.  “Shut your mouth.  Every time he hears you, he will renew his battling.  If he can regain calm, we have a chance.  If he continues to rage mindlessly, they will kill him right in front of you.”

I was shaking.  I was almost suffocating against Dohrein’s hold on my face, thinking this must be what a panic attack felt like.  My lungs were squeezing, I was seeing spots and I wasn’t sure if that was due to a lack of oxygen or if it was that weird thing that happens to your retinas after being flashbulbed.  Just how many times did one need to blink in order to clear that after their alien lover was Lite Bright’d right in front of them?

They managed to drag Arokh to the ship.  Dohrein held onto me as we were surrounded.  I was faintly aware of other noises, of the others who were dealing with similar attacks around us.  But my attention was on Arokh as his horns made furrows in the dirt, as they dragged him by his incredibly sensitive tail, using it to haul all of his weight.  That was going to hurt him and I hated them for it.

“Princess?” a surprisingly deferential voice finally pulled my gaze away from the door that Arokh had disappeared into.

Dohrein’s hand dropped from my face.  But he didn’t step away from me, and I was really, really glad to have him at my back.  Because all around us were large, muscled, males.

They were hobs.  A whole lot of them.

“Are you injured?” the speaker asked.

I felt my jaw jut out.  “Am I injured?”

“She’s not,” Dohrein answered for me quickly.  “She is concerned for her Rakhii.”

The hob’s expression turned cold.  “His behavior is incredibly concerning.”

“He was worried for me!”

“He attacked a hob.”

“That guy grabbed me-“

Dohrein pinched me, making me jump.  That little weasel just pinched my-

All hobs turned on him, and if I were Dohrein right now, I’d be worried about getting the Arokh-treatment.

Dohrein smoothed his hand over my hip, like, ‘Nothing to see here,’ and he said, “Why have you detained our guard?”

“Again; he attacked a hob.  And don’t play stupid, Son of Dohartaigh.  That Rakhii is acting like a bonded male.”

“Hardly,” he countered, and his fingers dug into my skin to warn me to keep my mouth shut.  “He was acting like a guard protecting his princess.  It’s a shame about the hob but you can’t imagine the stress he endured protecting this female; his quick defenses in the past few days are solely responsible for her standing safely before you.  Now.  Release him; we have much to discuss with you regarding the auctioned Gryfalas.”

“Discuss we will.”  He glared at Dohrein.  “But his reaction was more than mere protectiveness.  I don’t appreciate your attempt at misdirection, and you can believe that I’ll be speaking to your dam about this, as well as your part in cloaking all of these ships.”

I was close enough to see the skin around his eyes tighten.  “I would expect no less, Father Nine.”

Father… nine?  This was one of… I looked at the male, taking note of the angry face and wondering if maybe that wasn’t just a this-situation-upsets-me look, but a this-is-my-face look.  Dohrein’s Dad?  And there were eight others?  Dohrein’s mom had nine guys?  Nine!  Dohrein really didn’t have to keep squeezing me; I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to.

Daddy Nine tapped something on his ear and it became clear that the others were ready for detainment on the ship too.  They began dragging others up the ramp, and I was surprised when, instead of following in the wake of subdued bodies, we were herded to a separate entrance.

A nicer, more welcoming gangplank actually, with shiny railings and stone insets and Dohrein leaned in to whisper, “Do I need to cover your eyes?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

His gaze searched mine, gauging my level of attraction to buffed mineral deposits when my guy had just been beaten and dragged away from me.  “I think I can manage.”

He nodded.

Around us, other ‘Gryfala’ were being assembled.  Then Nine strode past us with a polite nod for me, but now deliberately ignored his son.

As we followed up after him, I looked over at Dohrein.  “Your dad?” I mouthed, wide-eyed.  “What’s his problem?”

He sighed.  “He always wanted a daughter.”

33

ANGIE

“What happens now?” I asked Dohrein.

At first, the hobs wanted to separate us so that there wouldn’t be any 'challenging'.  I gave orders for us to stay together and… so far, the hobs were following them.  They did not follow my orders to release our guys though.

Because that shit would be too lucky.

We were pacing near very comfy looking chairs.  Or, at least, I was pacing.  Dohrein grabbed my arm to stop me when the hobs seemed to take too much interest in my anxiety.

He pulled me to stand in front of him, my feet inside of his as he leaned against the wall.  I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Don’t rebuke me,” he warned in a low voice.

I narrowed my eyes even further, squinting now.  “Are you serious?” I hissed.

He leaned in until his lips brushed mine.  He didn’t close his eyes, and neither did I, and I would have reared back but he’d palmed the back of my head to keep me in place.

I blinked to focus.

Right against my lips he whispered, “I need to be able to operate as your hob.  If you are perceived as being single, these hobs will fall upon you.”

“Rape me?” I breathed in horror.

“No!” he returned, aghast, his firm bottom lip dragging against my chin as he formed the word.  “No, never.  They will fall all over you trying to court you.  But what we need right now is to navigate Arokh’s release.  Understand?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, and Dohrein’s eyes crinkled just before he kissed me.  For real this time.

I bit his lip.

Not hard, but he pulled back quickly all the same, and it made something in my heart lift, just a little, when he smiled at me.  His wings retracted - I hadn’t even seen him open them!  That was close.  The dick.

And to everyone, that probably looked like a reassuring, affectionate makeout session.  I glanced around, uncomfortable at the hungry looks from all the hobs.

“Hey,” someone said and I turned.

“Oh hell,” I groaned.  “Was it too much to ask that your alien got you far, far away?”

Bitchy gave me a… well, a bitchy smile.  “Missed you too, babe.”  She slid a look up at Dohrein, then flicked her gaze quickly back to me.  Her eyes were serious, and when she wasn’t being nasty, she could look kind of pretty, actually.  “You need to come check Weepy.”

Arokh’s brother’s girl was not catatonic anymore, and yay that she wasn’t screaming.  Buuuut she was scratching furrows into her arms.  Yikes.  “Hey!  Holy crap, stop!  You don’t need to hurt yourself,” I admonished as I peeled her hands up.

“I said stay back!” I snarled at the hobs pressing in to see what the poor damaged little ‘Gryfala’ was doing to herself.

Nine showed up next to Dohrein, who was close enough to me that I heard the following and was ready to throat punch every asshole here with wings.

Except Dohrein.  Maybe.  I’d save him for last, that way I could see how I felt after I made it down the line of all the other throats.

“I noticed that ‘your’ female is not wearing any of your powder.”

And it should be noted that his father noted this smugly.  The asshat.

Trying to pry up one of Weepy’s hands, fingernails bloody, I glared at him.  “You know, that’s rude.  And the last time he ‘powdered me’ I begged to orgasm until I was unconscious.  Not really feeling like now’s the time, but thanks for being nosy,” I expelled an aggravated, “Fuck!  Me!” under my breath.

Wrong words, man.

Wrong words.

His chest inflated as he stared me down with a scowl so much nastier than Dohrein’s and he sneered, “I am in service to-“

I held up Weepy’s bloody hand to stop him.  “Yeah, yeah – lost in translation, okay?  What I meant to say is fuck off.  Go.  You’re irritating me and I need my hob to give me all of his attention or I could turn into Bitchy here, okay?  Trust me; you do not want that.”

“Hey…”

Without breaking the stare down I addressed her.  “Yeah?”

“I think I’m starting to like you.”

“Back at you.”

Nine left.  Stormed off in a scary this-won’t-be-the-last-of-me villain kind of vibe.  But it would just have to be added to the list.  Problem #944 was currently in progress.

“They killed him,” Weepy shudders.

Dohrein knelt down in front of her, and flicked a lock of her hair back behind her ear, ignoring her flinch and looking at her thoughtfully.  “Doubtful.”  He stroked a hand down her spine, slowly, and repeated until she relaxed.  A little.

She gave a shaky inhale.  “Really?”

He nodded.  “Those bastards can take a lot of voltage…”  he trailed off when he saw my look.

I mouthed, “What the fuck, man?”

He widened his eyes and shook his head once.  “Sorry.”  He blinked like a robot trying to process the concept of comforting words.  “It is more likely that he was just stunned into submission.  He’ll be put on trial before he is executed.”

She cried harder; I socked him the shoulder, and Bitchy grinned.  Freaking grinned.  “I like him!”

“Great.  You two will make adorably miserable babies together,” I gave a mini clap.

Weepy was crying so hard she was choking.  Dohrein pulled her against his chest, petting her hair and purring.  He looked like he’d swallowed an entire bag of lemons - because it was still cheery ‘ol Dohrein - but he was purring like a hero.  A few others crawled closer, and he eased Weepy down onto his front as he reclined.  We sort of… well, after that, we draped ourselves around him, being lulled by his pretty purr, and the other hobs were glaring at him like he was the fucking Pied Piper of pussy.

In reality?  I lay against his back, his wings folded tightly between us so no powder could be spread.  I wasn’t the only one; he was pretty massive - bigger than a human guy, and I could feel at least two other women against me, also touching against Dohrein.  Because comfort.

Poor Dohrein, adopting all these females that had no interest in shagging him.  “On Earth, you’d be a ‘cuddle bitch’.”

“Friend-zoned,” Bitchy added.

I peered over my shoulder to see that his perpetually grumpy expression did not lighten.

“It means-“

“I can gather,” he groused.  But he didn’t leave our not-putting-out-for-you asses, and you had to like a guy that had your back.  I hoped really hard that Dohrein found a really great girl.  Because under all that sour puss he was actually a really great guy.

Fluttering her eyes at Dohrein while addressing me, Bitchy said, “I know that I'd love to hear. Come on, Ang,”

“A cuddle bitch is a dude that does all the work hugging, kissing, holding but gets no sex.  You never heard that?”

“Nah, I knew, just wanted to be here when he heard it.”  She grinned evilly.

I shook my head, and was reaching to pat Dohrein’s shoulder when an explosive snort made us all jump.

It was Weepy.

Well, I’ll be damned!

We all stared, shocked, as another snort burst from her, then she barked a laugh, tears still rolling, shaking from the force of her laughter in Dohrein’s arms.

“I think we broke her.”

Gasping, Weepy grabbed Dohrein’s wrist.  “Thank you.  For doing this.”  Briefly, she met his eyes.  “It’s… you’re a lifesaver.”  She swallowed, all trace of humor leaching from her as quickly as it had shown up.  “I appreciate it.”

He shifted, looking uncomfortable with her praise.

The mood had gone all serious, and we were silent for the rest of the ride.

34

ANGIE

Exiting the craft, Dohrein’s wings were puffed up high and half spread, hovering over us like a cob swan with his flock of cygnets.  He glared down any hobs who tried to approach – and that would be many – and I didn’t begrudge him this posturing at all.  None of us were exactly in the mood to be pawed at.

They wouldn’t let us stay to watch them unload our males.  Dohrein did try to intercede on our behalf, but apparently the other hobs felt we’d become too emotional if we saw our group of bonded males being dragged out.

“I’m not leaving him!” I shouted.

Dohrein grabbed my wrist.  “You can’t do anything for him right now.  And truthfully - despite what you think you know - this is actually for the best.”  He cut me off as I started to protest.  “IF he sees you, if he even smells you, his instincts will override his sense and he’ll have to be subdued again.  You don’t want that.”

No.  I didn’t want that.  But to abandon him was beyond disloyal.  I tried, I really tried to come to terms with this.  But I couldn’t.

“Are they going to kill him?” I whispered.  My words broke, and I had to blink my burning eyes.

“No,” Dohrein said quickly.

Air rushed from my lungs and I almost dropped to my knees in relief.  That is, until Dohrein added, “At least not until the trial,” under his breath.

“What?  You were serious about that?”

It was weird, having the words that I had been about to screech just splattering the air before I had the chance to actually force it out myself.  And it was Weepy who’d shouted that.

Dohrein rubbed a hand over his face.  Then he reached forward and grabbed Weepy – who, I thought it was important to note, barely jerked away this time, and even went willingly to him after a moment – then me, and Bitchy, and the other girls until we weren’t just in a huddle, but instead were pressed around him, all our faces almost touching.

“Hear me.  The Council will decide the outcome of each case.  Hissy fits will not impress them, tantrums will not change their mind.  This is happening.  And right now, it is in the incarcerated’s best interests that we leave.”

“But-“

His jaw hardened.  “I strongly suggest now.  That we leave right now.”

“Dohrein?”

Dohrein looked over our heads.  The barest hint of his fangs were bared when he hissed out a breath.

We turned to look too.  The hob addressing him was the picture of absolute incredulity.

“You have… you don’t serve all of these Gryfala?”

I did not care for his tone.  Not at all.  Hobs had been tripping over themselves to be near us since they’d captured us, but now even more were exiting the ship and were crowding around, very interested in this answer.

Bitchy cocked a hip.  “Fuck yeah.  Dohrein’s the Man.”

The speaker smoothed his choppy rocker hair back, a cute cut that would have served him well on earth.  “Females, no doubt you are looking to add males-“

“We have males.”  I spat.  I indicated the belly of the big ship with a jerk of my thumb.  “The rest of our males were stolen and locked up-“

Dohrein tugged the back of my shirt, the action taking place low enough that no one but the other girls would have seen.  He began to usher us along as the group of hobs milling about us increased to an alarming amount.  Or maybe it wasn’t so much the number of them that was alarming, but their ravenous expressions.

And then one hob whipped out a diamond.

And after that it was like some sort of gemstone frenzy.

Glittering, sparkling rocks were suddenly all around us, and Dohrein, still keeping us moving at a pretty fast clip, cupped his wings over us protectively so that our view would be partially blocked – although he was careful not to brush up against us.

“Impressive wingspan,” Bitchy teased.  I felt my face screw up.  Was she… flirting?

His reply was all gruffness and... husky voiced.  “Thank you.”

One of the women gasped.  “Look at the size of that one!”

Fingers began pointing.  “Look at that crystal!  It’s got to be six inches around!”

“Gotta admit.  This beats dick pics any day.”

◆◆◆

“Where?”

That was Dohrein.  All the words.

Nine glowered at him, at all of us.  “All these females – together - peaceably, is… unprecedented.  But… if they are refusing to be taken underwing into quarters with other hobs, then here."  He rubbed his forehead.  "The accommodations are certainly not fit for princesses but if they insist on remaining together-” he seemed to choke a little at the next two words, “-with you, they may all stay in this room if they can control their urges to quarrel and challenge each other.”

Dohrein just gave a nod.

Nine tried to glare him down, not satisfied with Dohrein in any capacity.  “When they need to be separated, bachelors are available in surplus if you change your-"

“We won’t,” he growled firmly.

And we just stayed pretty quiet.  It was Nine’s natural inclination to address a princess directly, but we’d quickly learned Dohrein knew how to navigate this word; we were better off shutting up.

Okay, really, I was sick of getting stealth pinched.

Something I was pretty damn sure wasn’t sanctioned treatment for a gryfala.

I gave a haughty sniff, and like he could read my mind, Dohrein cut me a warning look from the corner of his eye.

That took skill, by the way.

All around us were hobs, all ogling us like-

Like we were back in that freaking auction pen.  It was intense.  And it was clear they had no idea what to do with all of us.  Whispers, words like “wings” kept getting tossed around too, but no one was rude enough to just come out and directly ask us about our “deformity”.  I suppose they were all hoping that we would start collecting harems therefore nobody wanted to piss us off.

“They will refrain from challenging each other,” Dohrein promised.  “But it would behoove you to release their males-“

“I’ll hear no more on the matter.  Trial is at suns rise.  I have to return to your mother’s side.”  And without even a ‘hey, glad you made it back safe’ he turned and left.

“What a cold bastard.”  I said.

Dohrein just looked grim…mer.

“Are you just going to stare at us?”  That was Bitchy.  Being Miss Congeniality again.  But this time I had to agree.  It was beyond unnerving, really.  “If you aren’t going to help us then you can all leave!”

And to our surprise?

They did.

Dohrein finally looked down at us, and taking us all in, slowly looking over our faces, he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.  His wings drooped, the tips dragging on the floor.  “This is a dire situation.”

“Duh!  What are we going to do?”

“I am afraid to leave you.  If I leave, you will be hounded the moment I step out of that door.  They are not going to help you get your males back.  My sire has no interest in helping either, although he has the greatest influence.  I wish I could get a message to my mother.”

An anxious round of knocks sounded.

He stalked over the door, and his theory about our odds of staying unmolested was proven to be true.  As soon as he opened it, heads filled the doorway, all peering in at us, hopeful expressions on their faces.  “We’ve brought blankets!”

Dohrein snatched them and slammed the door, narrowly missing smashing a few noses.

The knocking came again.

Pillows followed.

Then food.

Water came after.

“What, are they going to split up all the supplies?”

He made a frustrated noise.  “And give you every chance to change your mind and let them in?  Of course.”

Dohrein paced back to us.  “Tomorrow I will get to her.  Attempt to intercede.”

“What do we do until then?”

He looked at us sadly.  “Try to get some sleep.”

He dropped to the floor, and was about to lay back before he thought better of it.  He moved to his stomach instead, and spread his wings out on the floor.  “Climb on.  It won’t hurt them if you are careful.  It might comfort you to rest against them.”

We carefully tucked in around him, the backs of his wings completely safe for us.  Surprisingly warm for being so thin too.

But I didn’t sleep.  And I don’t think anyone else did much of it either.

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Arokh’s screams.

35

AROKH

I have been feeling crazed, lethargic, feverish without my Angie.  I know the symptoms would only worsen.  But they won’t.

Because I am about to die.

The council lists my crimes.  Leveling the accusation of Bonded is enough to have my neck, but I also injured hobs in my rage last night, and the grave list of their traumas are crimes brought against me also.  The shame of it singes me with every name they add.  But I had no choice – they were taking me from my female.  My muscles begin to ripple as I grow even more agitated.  I shake off the instinct and try to relax.

Not surprisingly, the Rakhii sitting to the side of the council enters the proceedings, demanding proof of my Bonded status.  If I’d injured hobs, that would warrant severe punishment.  The Bonding claim however is such a grievous offense that not only would I die for it, but my family will be fined, castigated, ruined.

I appreciated that the council was thorough; if the case were unjust I would greatly appreciate their attention to detail, to justice.  But I dreaded what would come next.

“Bring forward his Gryfala,” a councilwoman calls.

My Angie.  I can’t help myself.  Metal squeaks and jangles as I try to lift my head, my eyes searching desperately for her, the rays from the rising suns casting everything in the colosseum a soft, rose-gold.

And my Angie.  She is led forward, and I feel the restraints digging into my scales as my body strains toward her.

For a second she drops from view and my hearts cease for a beat and my chains make a hideous screech as I lunge forward – but then she pops up and I realize she ducked out of the guards’ hold and is running to me.  “Angie…love, no!”  But my words are muffled through the iron muzzle, fitted tightly on my face to prevent me from breathing fire.

The crowd gasps as she vaults over the barrier separating the seating from the arena floor.  Close, so close…

A guard swoops in and tackles her to the soft dirt.

And I lose my mind.

The likelihood of making a successful escape, added to the probability that I could wrest Angie away from the hob guards, is so infinitesimally unlikely that I wouldn’t care to examine the odds.  It would be safe to say I’d never have made it, let alone managed to not only break free with her, but to successfully escape off of this planet.

It wouldn’t have happened.  Not without the events that took place next.

A boom so loud it silenced the screaming crowd - the sound echoing off of the stone, so jarring that my wits returned, my body feeling every tear in my hide, now bleeding thanks to my struggles.  Everyone turned to look, everyone but me, because my chains kept my head locked in place.

The pounding of many feet approaching had my body tensing - no way to protect Angie - let alone myself.

Then there was a clang, and the chains at my neck fell, another clang, and I was able to turn now, and I saw my brother.

Armed with a battle axe, he was breaking me free as the other male prisoners swarmed the arena walls.  Males that, as they spotted their own females, could no longer be reasoned with, gone completely crazed.  The council was in a panic, the hobs scrambling to get the councilwomen to safety, and hobs in the stadium seats were taking flight, surrounding their princesses.  Not defending; escaping.  The only safe option now.

My neck torqued painfully when the axe came down on the extending iron loop that locked the muzzle in place.  I worked my jaw from side to side when the heavy piece fell away.

I had one last manacle binding me to the stone pillar, but it was then that Zadeon’s little female cried out to him.  She sounded terrified.  No doubt the rush of males was causing her to panic, and physically, there was every chance a female could be trampled or worse in the melee.  I saw the change come over my brother, the moment when his scales flushed dark and his eyes went nearly molten with madness to reach his mate.

It was a bloodbath.

Then I heard her screams.  “Nooooo!  Let me go!”

Angie.

Angie!

The last woven metal length keeping me rooted in place suddenly snapped as if it were thread.

I ripped at anything in front of me – when someone grabbed me, their scent unfamiliar, male, I bit them, envenomated them, shredded them until my scales were slick with blood.

Mindless, I fought to reach my female, my Angie - nothing would keep me from her.  A crack across my head, raging pain in my horn, I blew fire, not reaching for distance just coverage - I didn’t want Angie caught in the flames.

She was close.  I could smell her.  Her terror.

I fought harder.

Most of the hobs were wise enough to simply release the human females and get out of the way; those that didn’t were not in the way for long.

And then she was in my arms.  My Angie.

I snuffled her, lapped at her skin, checked her for injuries and purred to her as I found her whole and well.

It took time to calm.  When I had regained the wits to speak, I voiced what had been troubling, yet I hadn’t had the control until then to verbalize.

“Why isn’t Dohrein with you?” I panted.  I tasted blood, blood that wasn’t mine.  I let my mouth flood with saliva, attempting to wash the rustiness of it away, horrified that I had lapped at my Angie’s skin with this in my mouth.  I turned her, checking her over, seeing if I had left any smears of it on her.

She steadied herself on my arm, but didn’t dissuade me.  She did however, give me that look like she thought I was being ‘too much’.  “He’s been trying to get some of the council to hear him.  They refused!  Now he has to find his dam.”

The intonation and emphasis she put on that last word coupled with her strange finger motions had me struggling to follow the rest of what she was trying to tell me.  “He hopes she will hear what he has to say, and then talk to the sire that hates him, the one that sits on the council.  ‘Rein said I’d be safe enough until you came for me.”

“Safe enough?”  I seethed.  I tried to ignore the fact that she shortened his name with an inflection of fondness.  Nearly an endearment.  He spent hours with her.  I forced myself not to imagine him comforting her.  I could always kill him later.  Now, I needed to think.  I tilted my head.  “And just how could he know that I would somehow manage not to be executed, and somehow manage to reach you before you came to harm – after I somehow managed to escape iron restraints locked to a slab of rock?”  I was raging.  “He gambled too much.”

She gave a weak smile.  “I’m not saying he had a hand in freeing the other guys, but I’m not not saying that either…”

Not for the first time, I feel the tiniest, most miniscule surge of gratitude for that sour hob.

I carried Angie down to the arena floor, which looked calm and quiet compared to the war happening in the stands.

Fleeing into the gladiator pit for safety?  Such a reversal from what I was used to.

We were soon joined by others attempting to get their humans out of harm’s way.  I noticed manacles still clamped around wrists, little lengths of chain dragging from them, just like mine.  I spied Zadeon, and saw that he however had no manacle.

Dohrein chose well when he risked much to free one of us.  My brother is a force all on his own.

His female is safe now, but he is lost in a rage.  He is breaking seats, ripping up dead bodies, roaring like a psychopath.  It would help if his human talked to him, but she isn’t talking at all.  Instead, she screamed and thrashed when he first reached her, and it is making this all so much worse.  Now she is curled up, hands covering her ears, face tucked into her knees.  She is rocking oddly, and making a keening sound that is agitating us all.  The bodies of the guards that frightened her are splattered in parts and bits all over her.

All we can do is watch.  No male will allow his female near Zadeon for the chance that they can comfort the damaged human.  Every so often I chuff at my brother, and slowly he is coming back to himself.

But even I won’t approach him to help him gain control.  Some things are best to work from afar.

That’s when I see Dohrein.  Arms crossed, he leans against a pillar at the edge of the arena.  He is watching too.

Not even begrudgingly, I can admit to myself that he is a good hob.  I don’t know why he helped us, but I owe him a great debt.  All of us do.

When my brother’s female starts choking on her own tears, that finally rips him from his rage haze.  He immediately does what he can to console her, this time crouching near her without trying to touch - crooning to her until she lets him approach.

When she lets finally lets him hold her?  He plucks her right up.

He sags in relief, his head bowed over her, squeezing her to him.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Dohrein motion with his hand.

And a legion of hobs enter the arena with their own Gryfala to protect.

This, as it turns out, is as close to a real Gryfala as I’ve ever been.  The difference between this female and my Angie would be enough to make me laugh.

But this is no laughing matter.

The Gryfala’s full lips press tightly together as she takes in the sight before her.  “What a senseless, cataclysmic massacre,” she says with a voice full of so much disdain, such cold, that our very bones should flash freeze.

36

ANGIE

Everyone bowed.

The hobs and Rakhii, of course, that made sense - but it was the assortment of other aliens paying respect that made me really feel the weight of this woman’s power.  Us humans… we looked at each other.  What do we do?

If we bowed, were we conceding anything?  By not bowing, were we insulting her - or even committing an offense?

Arokh wasn’t urging me down with a hand between my shoulder blades or anything, but what was protocal here?

I settled for a nod of acknowledgement.  Out of periphery, I saw the others do the same.

The stunning creature might have dipped her chin before she whirled to stare into the mess in the stands.  The horror there.  She said it: massacre.

And it was - it really was - but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been staring at it for the last oh so many... I checked my watch: a pair of fighting tiger-giraffe looking things, and some symbols I couldn’t fathom.  That was exactly how long it felt like I’d been a bystander to all this, yes.

But I shut off that part of my brain to process what I was seeing in front of me.

The other front of me; not the bodies and blood.

The cleaner thing, the safer thing to latch onto.

Dohrein talking to this woman.

I think this is his mom.

And if she’s his mom, then…

Nine doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder because he’s number nine down in the list of her life.

Nine is a huge grouch because he has to share her with thirteen other hobs.

My thighs reflexively clench up.  How is she even walking right now?  Does she enjoy one a day?  Two a day in order to make sure everyone gets a turn during a week?  Oh fuck…are weeks even counted in seven day increments here?  Or here’s a question: why am I fixating on Dohrein’s mom’s sex life, anyway?

Arokh rubs his hand over my back, not having a clue what I’m thinking – he’s just awesome like that.  My Rakhii gladiator.

Speaking of… Dohrein’s mom has one hulking Rakhii of her own – but surprise, surprise; he is way, waaay off to the side, and a sea of her hobs separates him from her.  He looks very uncomfortable as he avoids looking at the stands, or the other Rakhii at all.  Afraid of a little guilt by association maybe.

It seemed to me that it would be a very lonely life if the woman that you put your life on the line for treated you like you were always second class, and her more-than-a-baker’s-dozen other main squeezes treated you like you were second class, and you had no hope of advancing to a position of more importance to her than …background muscle?  And he had to put up with Nine?  Shit.  Life.

That, and his fellow countryman or kind or whatever were in a whole shitload of trouble just now.

The Gryfala turned then and looked at all of us.  Slowly, she crossed her arms.

I shivered.

We were way, way off.  No empty bobble headed brainless Barbie here.  This female looked sharp, shrewd, calculating.  Intimidating.

Not to mention that she was an incredible knockout.

That settled it: hobs were attracted to humans because they were desperate.  We were ragged little castaways compared to this supermodel.

And Nine must have mad skills with a brush because her hair was fantastic.

Unbelievably gorgeous, great hair.

I hadn’t even showered today.

I felt instantly at a disadvantage.

In all ways.

Nine made his way to her, completely ignoring their son’s presence as if he didn’t exist, and the other hobs parted the way for him without even being told.  In his hands he held a GMS screen.  He showed her something, murmuring to her, and she responded – but not to the screen.  She talked to him, and then he relayed the words she dictated.

I looked up at Arokh, seeing the underside of his chin, his strong jaw.  He must feel me looking because he dropped his gaze to catch my eyes, and his crinkled in brief show of amusement.  “Gryfala rarely speak directly to each other.  Irascible females.”

“Right.” I said.

And Dohrein’s mom was back to looking us over.  Her gaze was clinical, penetrating, and chilly, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise under her scrutiny.  And I was no longer swaying into Arokh’s chest with every exhale; he was holding his breath.

“It seems there has been a massive miscommunication,” she begins.

“Fuck, you think?”

Ah.  Bitchy.

Some of the women shushed her, no doubt afraid of what an angry Gryfala with all the power could do.  Dohrein, standing behind his mother now, shook his head.

The Gryfala’s eyes narrowed.  “Humans,” she mused.  “Tiny, defenseless aliens.  Yet the trouble you have managed to cause…”

Eeek.

She inclined her head when Bitchy managed to keep silent this time.  “We were made aware of an unauthorized landing yesterday.  When our defense force looked into the matter, they found not one ship, but dozens – the rest had been cloaked and hidden off log.  We prepared for the worst.  What we didn’t expect was an attack from faithful Rakhii,” her eyes seemed to pierce every one of them as she slowly let the weight of their treachery seep in.  I felt Arokh’s muscles go tight and I found his hand, sliding mine down until I was able to weave our fingers together.

“Let alone our very own,” her eyes found Crispin this time.  The bandages that covered his shoulders were a bloody, filthy mess now.  He looked down, but his teeth were bared, and instead of looking at the ground in shame, he was staring at the woman in his arms.  Like he’d do it all again.  For her.

“Save for a single ship, the rest had full permission to land, and received the cloaking access code from a trusted member of our society.”

Nine’s head turns so slowly it adds ten whole creepy points, and he fixes his glare on Dohrein.

“Imagine our force’s shock when they touched down and were met by bonded males and had to act with extreme force to subdue them.  That these humans can trigger the bonding instinct and process in such a variety of races… how peculiar.”  Her claws tapped together as her expression became downright mercenary.

Uh oh.  I did not have a good feeling about where she was going with this.

“It’s been ages since we have been introduced to a new race.  Your arrival brings so many questions and,” she looked back to Crispin, who was clutching his woman tightly and growling a little like he couldn’t stop himself, “Possibilities.”

She licked her full, pouty, bottom lip.  “Therefore, we propose the following.  Offworlders that had permission to touch down on our planet; you killed our hobs.  That is an offense punishable by death.  Rakhii that attacked hobs; that offense is punishable by death.  Crispin,” she clucks her tongue now and for the first time, an almost tender expression flits over her face.  “It was reported that you wounded three and strangled Egard, your own nestling.”  Her perfect brows lifted prettily as she surveyed the broken, angry mess that looked nothing like the sweet boy I met just days ago.  “Punishable by death.”

Her face held a world’s worth of condemnation now.

“In light of what we’ve learned, we are prepared to offer an extraordinary... opportunity.”  She said this with just a tiny hint of predatory excitement and with a whole lot of anticipation.  “Similarities between humans and our kind is quite curious.”

My stomach curdled.

Her strides were too elegant to be called pacing, and she was careful not to get too close - but she couldn’t seem to stay still, such was her anticipation.  “So we will let the humans decide.  Volunteer to let us study you, and we’ll pardon the grievous offenses of your chosen males.”  When nobody jumps at that offer, she shrugs halfheartedly and continues like she knew she’d have to roll this threat out.  “Don’t wish to compromise?  We can always force you into studies.  And we will unfortunately have to put these warriors down and ruin their family names for a veritable eternity.”  Her teeth looked so freaking sharp as her lips pulled up in a facsimile of a smile.

“What would ‘study’, ah, involve?”

Arokh’s claws tighten around me, sharp tips pressing in.

“Angie, no,” he hisses.  His tail makes a loud crack as he swings it in agitation.  A quick glance tells me all the males are considering their odds of going on the defense.  Right now.

I talk fast, “Needles… scalpels?”

The Gryfala tips her head, considering.

Arokh snarls.

“I’ll-“

Arokh’s hand clamps over my mouth and a look of clinical fascination takes over the Gryfala’s face - like we’re her own personal nature documentary in the flesh.

“They do not care for needles, nor procedures,” Dohrein says all offhandedly, cutting in calm as you please as he strides towards… Bitchy?

The Gryfala’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “Who does?”

Nine slides his hand between her folded wings and her back.  And she turns a brief smile to him.  Holy fucking shit.  She has a heart.

Bitchy watched Dohrein as he came close, and she looked like she was playing it cool, but she didn’t move away from him as he crowded her space, ducked down a little to… brush his cheek on her shoulder.

Bitchy smiled.

Holy fucking shit.  She has a heart.

Wow.  Now I’d seen everything.  (And for frick’s sake, I’d seen a lot lately, so this was saying something.)  Go Dohrein.

The Gryfala watched this too, looking… intrigued at her son’s display.  Her voice was less frosty when she said, “Some things cannot be avoided but we can agree to make it as humane as possible with no lasting harm-“

“No!”  Arokh cut in.

“Arokh,” I warned in one of those furiously-serious whispers that are loud enough to be heard but hopefully not overheard.  “We’ve got to do this.  I can’t let them kill you!”

His hand tightened enough that my lips mushed and words were no longer possible.

“I suppose,” she said slowly, “that we could agree to forego certain procedures.  I assure you that every effort will be made to keep our study subjects safe and healthy.”

I managed to clamp my teeth over the palm-side of the base of his forefinger - the only loose flesh I could mouth on his hand, trust me.  With his other hand he was squeezing the lights out of my hip but he eased his grip off of my mouth enough that I stopped biting him to ask, “And their mates, right?”

She deigned to nod once.  “It would be of great interest to test separation spans and a bonded’s deprivation when his mate is taken away, however-“

Growls and gurgles and hisses erupt around us.

“However, it is understood that this is too taxing on the bonded pairs, and frankly, too dangerous.  We will do everything we can to keep both the subject, and her bonded male or males, injury free.”

“For how long?”

The Gryfala tapped a claw to the tip of her cute little nose.  “Mmm.  What is the length of time a human is gravid?”

“Gestation?  Nine months.”

“Gestation?  Months?”  She dropped her hand and looked at me like every word I said gave her new ideas.  New ideas that hopefully did not involve needles, or sutures, or scalpels.

I shrugged like she didn’t scare me.  Liar, liar, pants on- “Yeah, we’re gonna have to figure out some conversions.”

“Intriguing.”

“What will you try to do with the babies?”

This actually comes from Bitchy.  Who is letting her hand be held by Dohrein.  Yay for Dohrein!

When he shoots me a smirk, and Bitchy gives me an amicable middle finger, I realize I cheered out loud.

Oh, how the Gryfala looks back and forth at us.  We should be charging them money to watch our “natural interactions”.  Like an entry fee to the zoo.

“It would be of great value to learn what we can from your young, but should you have offspring, I can promise you we won’t harm them.”

I looked around our group.  And all the women were looking back at me.  I brought my shoulders up in the world’s slowest shrug.

In return, I got a few nods.

Most telling?  I didn’t get any refusals.

“Okay,” I blurted.  “Deal.”

“Angie, needles… “ Arokh said low and worriedly.

I shuddered and all I could do was pat his hand.  “Never doubt I love you, big guy.”

That’s when Crispin has a meltdown.  “You will not harm her!” he barked.  The Gryfala shot him a look of glacial exasperation.

“That would shorten or possibly even defeat the purpose of the studies.  Your female’s volunteering in all tests will be considered recompense for the lives you took.”  Then her eyes settled on his shoulders, and if an ice queen were capable of showing genuine empathy - or pity - then this was what it would look like.  “Accommodations will be made for all of you.  And none of the hobs bonding to humans will be roosting in rookeries.”

Crispin sort of… deflates.  His girl moves then; she’d been content to let him hold her but now she adjusts so that her feet hit the ground and she puts a hand up to his cheek and whispers to him until he looks at her.

Then she shot the Gryfala a glare so violent that I’d be feeling threatened if I were in the Gryfala’s boots.  And if I didn’t have an entire battalion behind me.

But she isn’t, and she does, so she just studies the pair and addresses all of us with her words.  “You will calmly proceed my party out of these doors.  We will take you to where you will be-“

Kept.  Confined.  Caged.  Studied.

“-Staying.” She finishes.

With no alternative but to follow her command – we go.

37

ANGIE

“You’re the best,” I say, trying to cheer up my very grim, very clingy alien.  Well, clingy isn’t quite the word.  But I’ve become his security blanket and worry stone in one.

Right now, at his insistence, he’s on his back on the bed, with me draped on top of him.  I tried to protest; it’s uncomfortable on his neck, it has to be with his horns in the way – but he just tugged me over his chest and moved so that his arms were around me tight.

And he needed this, that was clear.  But so did I.

It’s been what feels like weeks since we were self-consigned into captivity.

Not as bad as it could’ve been.  In some ways it was good.  And then some days were just odd, like today.  They initially separated us; testing how long Arokh’s thread of tolerance (and by tolerance, I mean sanity) stretched before he snapped.

It got shorter every day.

He loathed these tests, even more than I did.  For my part, I mostly worried about him, because he was such a wreck by the time he made it to me.  Credit to that Gryfala though; she’d kept her word.  They hadn’t hurt me.

Today though.  What a weird day.  I was put into a simulated forest looking pool and told to “act naturally”.  On the banks were lots of sticks, and twigs, and soft reedy looking things.  Some were still standing, but a lot of them had been cut down and were laid in neat bundles and piles.  The water was warm and clean and clear enough to see down to the bottom, but to be honest I was a little afraid to get in.  What if they had some nightmarish sea monster that would bubble up and bite me and they wanted to see how a human would react to that?

No thank you.

I walked along the sandy bank, enjoying the big UV lights heating me as I went, and I made my way to the bunches of …stuff.  I examined them, picking them up, helping whoever had cut the bundles because one bunch of long grass looked like it had tipped over.  I patted it back into a pile, wondering what the purpose was of this particular exercise.

That’s when Arokh burst into the room.

Panting, bleeding from where he’d struggled so hard to break loose – again - he took one look at what I was sitting cross legged in front of, and he got worried.  He rushed to me and started to bend down like he was going to scoop me up – but then it was like he thought better of it, and instead, he crouched next to me, managing a little distance between us.

“Where’s my hug?”  I said, throwing my arms out and looking goggle eyed at him.  I had come to adore my overly tactile alien.  What was this nonsense?

His eyes ran over my outstretched arms… then he looked down at the ground and his nostrils flared.

“What?”  I said.

Slowly, he leaned forward.  More tentative, almost testing, as he bent into my space… yet didn’t reach for me.

“Arokh, what the heck?”  I shook my head at him.  “What are you doing?”

He looked down at the ground again before speaking.  “How do you feel?”

“I feel like my man is being strange, that’s how I feel.  What’s going on?”

“You… don’t feel like attacking me?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He tensed.

“Quit being stupid and hug me!”  But I made the move, getting up and grabbing one of his horns.

His arms came around me gratefully, and he pulled his head back to gaze at me, eyes roving my features for a moment before he buried his nose in my neck.

And licked.

I squealed.

He made that gruff huffing noise he had and did it again.  He was doing this more and more, and I tried to roll with it.  Back home, some guys watched football, some guys rebuilt engines, some played video games – my guy liked to lick me.

Everybody has to have a hobby.

Then he eased me away a little and looked down again.

“What is your preoccupation with the mud?”  I asked, truly perplexed.

His eyes met mine.  “Do you need more mud?”

“Do I…”  I’m pretty sure my squinty eyes and dropped jaw were giving that “Baby, You Crazy” face, but in case he wasn’t reading me right, I said, “Okay.  Let’s start over.  Why would you ask me that?”

He slowly reached for something by my feet.  I looked down to see him haltingly tugging a reed between us.

Then another.

And another.

They’d done it.  They’d pushed him past his limit.  He’d lost it and he’d gone crazy.  Fine.  I sighed.

Then I helped him.

He sat back when we’d made a big… ball of crap.  Well – not literally crap – gross.  Just forest floor gunk.“How do you feel now?”

“Tired.”  I shrugged.  “Bored.”

“Bored?”  He looked incredulous.

Then worried.  Strike that.  More worried.

“Yeah, when do you think we can go back to our room?”

“You need rest?  And you want to sleep in our room?”

I sucked in my upper lip and bit it as I stared at him.  Hard.

Relationships are difficult things.

Especially when one of you is an alien.

“Arokh… I’m trying to be patient here.  But I need you to explain what is going on.”

He gave a sharp nod.

Then he hesitantly reached to pick me up.  And that’s when he’d carried me to bed, and insisted on holding me “the hob way” and he kept petting low along the sides of my abdomen, which was making me squirm a little on top of him.

Not enough that I wanted to do anything about it, but enough to keep everything warmed up for when I did.

We were being monitored.  I hated that part.  Most of us did.

Except Bitchy, who I was now back to calling Gracie whenever she was on her best behavior.

So not often.

She called us under-blanket-fuckers, and overshared about her and Dohrein embracing their new porn star life together.  Electro boy was long gone; had actually bonded to another human.  His affection for her was completely returned; they were sigh-worthy in their level of coupledom.  Good for them, I thought.

“Arokh.”

“Mmm?”

Knowing that some team of alien scientists were undoubtedly listening and watching absolutely everything after this latest test, I tried to choose my words with care.  “What was the purpose of this one?”

Sometimes Arokh didn’t know, but sometimes he could guess.  He seemed resolute this time.

“They are testing your interest in nesting.”

His slid a hand between us and used his thumb to rub slowly along my belly.  Oh.  Oh.

“That humans livebirth…”  He tugged on his ear.  “In natural state, do you get the urge to build a nest?”

“No,” I scoffed.

His hand stilled.  “Do you den?”  He curled upward to snag a blanket and drag it over us.

“No, Arokh, I’m fine,” I protested as I accepted his blanket – not because I needed it, but because I felt one layer less exposed this way, infinitesimally just a bit less under the microscope lens.

I had an epiphany as he arranged another one, rolled up to act as a bolster behind my back.  “Have they been stocking us with all of these blankets in case I was going to ‘den’ with them?”

He paused long enough to meet my eyes.  Then he nodded, and grabbed another.

I laughed.  “Honestly, I'm fine.  And we don’t do that,” I said for the benefit of not only my fussing alien, but the incredibly curious and surprisingly accommodating research team that now managed our lives.

Arokh’s ears flicked as someone tapped their knuckles to the door.  “I wish to speak to you.”

Dohrein.

Arokh didn’t say anything so I looked back at him only to find him watching me curiously.  Probably waiting for me to go postal and “protect my nest”.  Aliens.  I shrugged.  “Yeah.  Come in.”

“I have developed a scent mixture for you both.”

Always to the point, this guy.  “We’re doing great, thanks for asking.  Uh huh, good to see you too.”  I’d been working with him, teaching him all about the custom of exchanging pleasantries.  And by teaching, I mean that I told him, and I got a dour look for my effort.  “And developed, huh?  What, do you have your own chemistry lab or something?

“Yes.”

“Oh.”  I cleared my throat.  “Cool!  Hey, where’s Gracie?”

“I have been able to allow her more autonomy, thanks to our own formula,” he said as he strode to our little utilitarian bedside table.  He respectfully toed the line - the literal, actual line - the one that Arokh had scored into the floor with his knife.

It was as close to me as he'd allow others to get while we were in our 'den' together.

“Though my bonding instinct is not as intense as a Rakhii, it has still remained unmanageable compared to a normal hob’s.”  He set down two small jars.  “This one,” he pointed to the green one, “is yours,” he said to Arokh.  Then his gaze moved to me as he flicked the red bottle a millimeter forward.  “And this is for you.  Put it on before you separate.”  He gave a pointed look to Arokh.  “It will suppress your instincts.  To a point.”

“What will hers do to her?”

Dohrein’s wing lifted.  “It is a concentrate of your bonding secretion.  For your peace of mind when she isn’t with you.”

“It’s a spray bottle of secretion?  Really?”

Dohrein did that wing-shrug thing again.  “It repels males quite effectively; I can assure you.”

“You sayin’ I stink?”

I think his lip quirked.  It did.  “Ha!” I said pointing, triumphant.  He shook his head at me like he thought I was too much.  I sat back.  “Well, wow, thanks.  This actually is really cool.”

I’d made it my hobby in life to lay on the compliments.  Because it was a nice thing to do for one.

And I totally loved making this guy blush.  It was the little things, really, that got to him.  With parents like his, how often did the guy get told something as simple as ‘good job’?  It was sad, actually.

Dohrein just nodded before giving a gruff, “I’ll leave you to it.”

But before he went, I had one more thing to needle him about.  “D, is that a hickey on your neck?”

Neither Gracie nor Dohrein had been shy about their not-private-private-life – unfortunately – but I still wasn’t prepared for the way he stood even taller, and totally owned it.  “That is what she calls the human version of lovebites, yes.  She has left them all over my-“

Quickly, I threw up my hands.  “That’s enough, I get it.”  I nodded… and something flitted in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t get a grip on it.  I blinked and shook it off.  “Thanks.  And hey.  Good for you.”

Before he turned to go, Dohrein gave a little smile – but not to me.

To Arokh.

When the door beeped closed behind him, I looked to Arokh, who, eyes slitted, was watching the door like he was lost in serious thought.  “This makes for some possibilities.  Why don’t you look happy?”

He regarded me solemnly.  Almost like he couldn’t help himself, he reached to pet my hair,  slowly winding tendrils around his wrist and fingers, playing with it.  “I don’t want to be apart from you.”

I grabbed at my chest and smiled at him.  “Aww, big guy.  Hand me the knife.”

His face!  So much alarm… “Why?”

38

AROKH

She smiles wickedly at me.

I can tell that she is feeling playful, and because I trust her, with great reluctance I reach for her knife, and offer it to her handle first.

Her other hand goes up to the back of her head where she pulls a lock of hair up, aiming the blade at the strand held in her view.

“Angie, no!”  I roar.  Then I grimace.  I know that she is not Gryfala, but I am still stabbed with regret whenever I attempt to forbid her anything.

But it’s too late.  She has sliced a chunk of her mane off.

I make a dismayed sound that has her flicking her eyes to me.  My hand covers hers as we stare down at the chopped piece.  Then she gives me a watery smile.  “It’s okay.  I’ve got a plan.”  Then she begins to braid the strand into a bracelet.

“Here,” she says, pressing it to my palm, threading her fingers with mine, so that our hands are clasped, the lock of her hair between us.  “For our blanket.”

I stare at her.

“You know - to sew into the blanket, if we ever have kids.  You can be represented with one of your scales, and I’ll have a piece of my hair.  If we can even have kids.”

I am so touched.  I cup the little rope in my palm, filled with tender feelings for my thoughtful mate.

My resolve is stronger than ever.  It doesn’t matter if we never have pups.  Our future is so uncertain, but it matters not.  She is my everything.

I move in to give her a long, hard kiss.

She is panting and her eyelids are heavy when I finally release her.  She wants to mate and I live to please her.

Yet I can’t let one small thing go.  I know I should - I need to, yet, I am compelled to ask.  “Why haven’t you given me lovebites?”

She pulls back.  Blinks at me.

“Can I?  Your skin is different than… what I’m used to.”

I bristle.  “You have given lovebites before?”

She stutters.  “Well- w-when I was a teenager… and sometimes when I had something to drink-“ seeing my expression, she quickly cuts herself off.  “Nevermind.  The important thing is, back home, they aren’t lovebites,” and she does that strange movement with her fingers, “or, more to the point, they aren’t all made with actual feelings of love – we call them suck-bites, or more commonly, hickeys, and that’s kind of the immature version of the word, because a lot of young, horny humans leave them in conspicuous places during make-outs, sort of like a bragging trophy for later, but mature humans find this gauche so if they do it, it’s hidden, then it’s considered sexy-“

There is so much alarming information packed into her explanation that I don’t know what to explode over first.  My body is over hers before I realize it, pinning her underneath of me – I’m not touching her, I am braced on my fists in the bedsheets, but even so, I can see I’ve startled her a little.  I try to move off but I can’t.

Instead, my insecurity-driven rage is interrupted by a soft, non-threatening computerized voice.  “Please expound on-“

“Later,” Angie snaps at the research team.  Then her hands cup my face.  “Whoa.  Has this been bothering you?  Arokh, I didn’t know.  How could I… Look at me.”

I am.  But I can’t speak words, or breathe, or even blink.  I want to rage, but I am frozen knowing I would never hurt her, but I also can’t leave her to go destroy some other room.  I am locked in a hellish, frozen, torturous-

She slides her hands up to get a grip on my horns, which she proceeds to shake.  “Snap out of it, and listen to me.  I love you, you idiot, and I love you more than I have ever loved any male, definitely so, so, so much more than any male from my home.  Because you’re awesome.  You are wonderful to me.  With me.  You’re the best.  And when I left home, hickeys weren’t popular, but if they are a big deal here, if they’re a big deal to you, Arokh, I’d do anything for you.  Okay?  I will spend all day sucking on your neck if it makes you happy, I promise.”

Now she drags one of her palms down my nose.  I exhale hard, smoke curling out of my nostrils.

Angie opens her lips and sucks the smoke in.

Then she puffs it out.

And smiles at me.

She lifts her head up, straining to reach my collarbone, where she begins to lap at my skin, her tongue running over the small pebbled scales there.  I shove my arms forward to clasp the back of her head, cradling her neck upward so she will be more comfortable.  She kisses, she licks, she suckles from my throat until I’m groaning into the mattress, my face buried as I brace one hand next to her ear to keep from crushing her under me.

She is running her foot along my hip, then sliding it over my thigh, tracing my tail, which I try not to flick but can’t help it.  This… it feels so…

I’ve released twice and some time ago she began to rub herself against me for her own releases, and her biting grew wild with every one.  By now, I’ve nearly lost all sense.

When she pulls back, her lips are swollen and wet and darker than normal.  Even more beautiful.  She is panting.  “Let me admire my handiwork here a second, mmmm.”

Her grin is huge.  “You’re going to need to see this, big guy.”

I’m off her so fast she begins to laugh, almost breathlessly.  The wall in front of me instantly melts into a reflecting panel and I am glad the team is monitoring us, capturing this, this gift my female has bestowed upon me.  This honor.

My Angie has made my skin into a broad, bold, canvas of art.  My growl of satisfaction is so deep and so loud that the walls shiver from the reverberation.

An almost musical laugh floats to my ears as Angie’s small arms come around me and her voice sounds satisfied when she asks, “You like it?”

I look down at her, content to my very soul.  “I love that you chose me to show your love and favor like this.  Thank you, my Angie.”

Her cheek lifts in that way I have come to recognize is her attempt at masking the true depth of her humor.  “So whenever I make you angry-“

My brows dip.

“Why would I become angry at you?”

“Shush, just answer the question.  I could make it up to you with this?  Cheer you up with this?  Make you feel appreciated with this?”  She points to one of the rings, the one she spent the longest on, the one with the deepest color change.  It is absolutely beautiful.  And impossible to miss by any who will see me; they will know my human spent time showing how much she loves me, which makes it even more resplendent.

My nod is hard and decisive and her smile finally breaks free, and it is a huge one.  “Oh, big guy.  If this is all it takes to make you feel this good?  Then we have got it made.”

Epilogue

ANGIE

Thanks to D’s formula, things have eased up quite a bit.  The Rakhii are going through a bit of a liberation; finally getting some equal(er) rights - not exactly an overnight revolution or anything, but from what I understand, things are changing for the better and it’s being attributed to… well?  Us.  Cause we’re awesome.

Arokh doesn’t need to be clinging on to me 24/7 anymore, but he likes to be.  And I like it that way.  Most women are the same.  It’s nice to be pretty much the center of a guy’s world.  I’m not pregnant, and I’m surprised at the feeling that gives me:  I’m a little.... sad.  Arokh says it is something I shouldn’t ‘fret’, but I wonder if he really hopes we can, uh, crossbreed.  Either way, on his way out the door this morning, he dropped that it’s his whelping day.  I asked him if that was a big deal where he was from, and he wasn’t sure what I meant.  I asked if they celebrated it, gave gifts.  He looked like he wanted to tell me, but he was in a rush to go since he’d spent his ‘getting ready for work’ time this morning doing other things to me.

Thus, I have an earth tradition to introduce him to: gift giving.  But I don’t have any money...  Guess I’ll just have to improvise.

When I enter the conference room I see the bigwigs.

They’ve assembled a team that will be protecting earth's resource – not oil, not gold, not diamonds or food or water – women.

I’d expected to be shooed out.  I didn’t belong here; I was not the woman assigned to this team, the woman who weighed in with her opinions and shared her considerable knowledge about earth’s flight-space… and other stuff.  As I said; not my area, and the aliens had been careful to limit and pre-assign interaction.  Instead, they allow us to ‘naturally’ seek each other out to socialize - with males and the scientists monitoring, always.

But they let me into the room.  I waved to Kelly, and I told them that I was borrowing Arokh - I don’t ask, I just tug my alien out by the hand.

And he follows.

Because he’s awesome.

I’m not going to say he follows without question – because he doesn’t.

“Angie, are you hurt?  What is wrong?  Why aren’t you speaking?  I think I need more of the co-loansprey-“

And I have to laugh, because he means cologne spray, which he damn near drowns in because he says it barely works at all and it doesn’t settle his mind - he’s always worrying, wondering if I’m okay.  Aww.  I think it’s partly too that he’s afraid he’ll go berserk and tear down walls to get to me if he fixates on me too much – so I feel properly loved indeed when he has to come back three and four times a day to reapply.  After we make out, of course.  Sure, he could take the bottle with him, but he needs to check on me.  And he thinks I’d only pull him from a meeting if I were in dire need of him.

Well.  Maybe he’s not wrong on that part.

Finally!  An empty conference room.

I curl my lip at the blinking green light in the corner.  Monitored.  Of course.  What isn’t?

But I shake it off.  Gracie was right.  You deal and get used to it.

I can’t believe I haven’t done this yet.  It was never a favorite for me before, but this guy – this guy is biting down, fangs showing, eyes wild, making grunting noises thru the leather clamped between his fangs (that’d be his belt) and it.  Is.  Hot.

I grab his hands and move them to my head, and he catches on, his fingers spearing into my hair.

I am having so much fun, I think I’ll do this every day.  He looks like he is ready to lose it.  My knees aren’t even bothering me yet but my jaw is stretched too far, and getting seriously tired but this is so worth it.

I wink at him, smiling around my jawful.

His eyes screw shut and he comes.

I stand, and wrap a hand around the back of his neck to drag him closer to me.  He is acting like a zombie – malleable, but a little out of it.  I fucking love it.

I bite his neck like a vampire.

He stares at me like I rang his bell good.

I give myself a little bow.

Hell, I give myself a dozen.

He is gazing down at me now like I am a gift from heaven.

And happy?  I think I made his lightyear, not just his birthday.

Mission accomplished.

◆◆◆

AROKH

Initially, I was concerned when Angie sought me out.

But when she tugged and -ineffectively- pushed and prodded at me, I fell into step with her, and she led us into a room.

Where she backed me to a wall and stared up at me with… hunger.

My scales are oddly tight all over, and my horns feel like they are almost curling at the ends I am suddenly strung so tight.  That’s not actually possible, but I run a hand along one of my horns just to check.

It’s fine.

Quickly, she reaches for my suit fastening.

“Angie?” I question, noting that my voice has turned hoarse.

She works off my belt, then holds it up to my mouth.

“Bite on this," she instructs, her smile so wide and wickedly sexy that my jaw drops.

She takes the opportunity to firmly shove the leather between my teeth.  When her hands peel down my trousers, she simpers and flutters her lashes, saying, “We both know you have a tendency to roar when you come, so… bite it.”  She grins up at me.

I clamp down on the belt.

She kneels at my feet.

My eyes roll back, my knees buckle, but I catch myself before I collapse on her.

She kneads my thighs and squeezes my ass, the muscle strung tight, then begins to pump me with one hand while she wraps her tongue around the underside of the tip.

When I am spent, and my throat is raw, and my teeth have punctured through the leather so that I have to pry it up in order to remove it from my jaws; I slump against the wall.  She never takes her eyes from mine as she drags her tongue over her palm.

Carefully lapping every last bit of my taste from her skin.

I groan again.

She twirls and prances to the spot where she’d abandoned her purse, where she pulls out a sanitizing cloth, rubbing it against her hands before swiping it over the spot on the floor where a small amount overflowed from her lips.

She looks happy with herself as she bows, and preens, and if she only knew what I felt for her in that moment.

My female needed to run.

Just as soon as I had regained full motor function, I was coming for her.

Well.  Coming after her.

Rifling through her purse once more, she now tugs out the bottles Dohrein made for us, the ones from our lair.  She sprays us each liberally.

(A waste, because I will have her scenting of the real me, and relishing her real taste in my mouth very, very soon.)

Fixes her hair calmly.

Then she reaches up as far as she can on her toes, bracing herself on my forearms, and pecks my chin with an affectionate kiss.  “Happy Whelping Day,” her smile is so bright and heartwarming.

She almost makes it to the door before I am on her, wrapping my big arms around her small frame.  “Female, you are worth more to me than any whelp gift I could ever deserve or earn in a lifespan of whelp days.”

When she tells me I should go back to the meeting, I do - but only after she leads me there.  She leaves me, and I wonder if I look half as shaken and shocked and… somehow, as frustrated as I feel.

Apparently so, because the other males ask if she gave me news that she was gravid.  Warmth floods me at the thought of my Angie being gravid – no, pregnant.  Littered.  I cut a dangerous smile at the room of males.  “She stopped by to remind me that I am incredibly, unbelievably blessed.”  My human is absolutely inimitable.  “She is too much,” I add affectionately - and here, I used my finger attack motions like Angie does.  “I go to her now.”

They all nod, and it is not my imagination that their eyes are knowing.

I don’t care.

I am bonded to the best, most magnificent female.

Who could have guessed that the little offworlder I stole from her auction buyers would change my life so completely?

Did I say I was blessed?  I am so far beyond it.

With reluctance, I return my focus - most of it - to those at the table.  “Tell me what day; my female and I will join the earth mission to retrieve the younglings and the essential minerals the humans require.”  I swallow, and the aftertaste of leather makes me grin.  “I need to attend my human.”

As I stalk down the hallway, I reach for my belt.  That day that she called to me?  I came after her.  I always will.

I slip the leather from the loops and test it.  It did not cause pain to my mouth; it is supple, and even with all of the new holes, it should be perfect for muffling her screams.

It’s my turn.

To Readers,

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About the Author

Amanda makes it a point to surround herself  with with hot men, great books, amazing dogs - and struggles to control her habit of ogling cute otter pictures (is there any other kind??) and tries very hard NOT to collect any ferrets (no matter how badly they want to come home with her) while she grows her collection of soft, thigh high crazy-pattern socks.