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The Alien’s Equal: Drixonian Warriors #7 Page 2
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She grinned. “An alien.”
“A what?”
“On Earth, we’ve never actually seen an alien—a creature from another planet. But that’s what some have guessed one looks like.”
“So, I’m an alien?”
“Yeah. And I guess I’m an alien to you.”
I took a step closer to the painting and then stood beside it, facing her. I tried to make a stern face. “Do we look alike?”
She laughed loudly, and I found I was addicted to the sound already. “Not at all.”
I nodded with an exaggerated frown. “You’re right. He’s much more handsome than me.”
She shook her head, that delighted smile still on her face. “No, he doesn’t hold a candle to the Drix.”
I didn’t know what her saying meant, but the way her eyes sparkled at me, I didn’t really care. We stood there, grinning stupidly at each other before her cheeks reddened and she looked away. “So, um, the repair.”
Moment broken, I stepped toward the center of the room. “Ah yes, this repair. What do you need help with?”
“My lantern, um, sometimes I worry it’s overheating.”
“Overheating?”
“Yeah, it gets too hot.”
Seeing as a flame flickered inside, she was right that it did get hot. But the casing of the lantern ensured it was cool to the touch. I reached for it, placing my fingers along the top, bottom, and sides. “Feels okay to me.”
“Oh, really? Maybe it was just … maybe I imagined it.” She clapped her hands together. “Well that solves it. So, thanks for—”
I stepped behind her and wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “Let’s make sure. You feel it.”
Her body quivered, and my forearm brushed the underside of her breast. When her eyes met mine over her shoulder, the flame flickered there in her pupils. “What?”
“You might be more susceptible to high temperatures. You tell me if it’s too warm for you.”
Her chest heaved, and the tendons in her wrist bulged as she flexed her fingers. After a heavy swallow, she nodded. “Okay.”
With my other hand, I let the side of the lantern brush along her fingertips. “Too hot?”
“No,” she whispered. I admired the way the flames caused the light to dance across her face. A flush rose in her cheeks, coloring the skin to a pretty pink.
I ignored the way my cock thickened in my pants. I’d gotten used to it reacting to her presence after nearly a lifetime of inaction. When our females died in the virus, so did our libidos—until these human females showed up and woke us up. I resisted pressing closer to her but inhaled the fresh scene of her hair.
Her skin felt so soft and delicate under my fingers, reminding me how fragile these females could be and why we had a duty to protect them.
I placed her palm on top of the lantern. “How’s that?”
“Fine.” Her voice quivered, and a shiver ran down her spine. She panted softly, causing her hardened nipples to rise and fall against the fabric of her shirt.
I was so hypnotized, I nearly forgot what I was doing.
Next, I placed the lantern on top of the back of her hand. I leaned down until my lips skimmed the rim of her ear.
A breath left her on a rough exhale.
“And now?”
“Feels good,” she whispered breathlessly. Her body swayed into mine, and for a brief moment, I felt what it would be like hold the skittish female in my arms. Then, as if she realized what was happened, her back stiffened and she cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s fine.” Her tone was cold and emotionless.
I could feel her start to pull away as she became aware of our proximity. I couldn’t push my Justine. I knew that, no matter how badly I wanted to draw her into my arms and press my lips to hers.
Releasing her wrist and stepping away, I placed the lantern back on her side table. She didn’t move and continued to stand where I’d left her, her opposite hand circling the wrist I’d held. “Justine?”
“Thank you for your help, Nero. I appreciate it.” Her back still to me, she walked over to her bed and began fussing with the furs.
This was as far as I could push her tonight. And while I wished to make her mine, I felt almost giddy at how much she’d let me in tonight. I’d felt her reaction to me, and that would carry me for many rotations. Knowing it was time for me to make my exit, I took a step toward the door. “Sure. And in the future Justine, mingoes have a nasty bite and prefer raw meat.”
She froze and then slowly turned on her heel to meet my gaze. Angry fire flamed in hers as her nostrils flared. “Excuse me?”
“If you’re going to feed mingoes—”
“You saw it?”
“I heard it eating before I even turned the corner.”
Her eyes went wide as she sputtered. “And you … you … why didn’t you tell me?” Her hand flung out, nearly sending a drawing crashing to the floor. “You knew that lantern thing was a lie, didn’t you? Why did you keep up the ruse?”
“Because that was the first time you willingly touched me.” I shrugged when her mouth dropped open and she sank down onto the edge of her bed. “I knew it was just to distract me, but I enjoyed it too much to tell you the truth.” I smiled. “And then I got to hear about Midnight, your sister, and your aliens. So even if it was all fake, it was the best night I’ve had in a while.”
She didn’t say anything, only stared at me with her lips parted and her breath coming hard and fast.
It wasn’t until I had one step outside the door when she finally spoke. “You’re not going to tell anyone are you?” I glanced over my shoulder to find her standing in the center of her room with her arms wrapped around her middle. “About the mingo?”
I shook my head. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Two
Justine
I didn’t see Nero for the next two days. Which was fine. Totally fine. Great even. Who needed his big body invading my space and his keen eyes searing into my soul? Not me. I certainly didn’t brush my fingers along my lantern every time I entered my room only to feel the ghost touch of his strong body at my back. I definitely did not stare a long time at my alien drawing, smiling like a loon at the image of him striking a pose next to it.
This was stupid. It’d been a long time since I’d let a man willingly touch me, and it would be a long time—hopefully forever—before I allowed it again.
If Fallon were here, she’d laugh at me. She’d just turned twenty-one, and we’d celebrated at a local winery where we proceeded to get wasted on Rosé and tacos. She liked men, although she was always the one using.
Me? Well, I’d been the one used, chewed up, spit out, then ran over with a car, and then buried alive. I’d clawed my way out of that Beatrix Kiddo-style. No way would I let another man crush me beneath his boot heel. And it didn’t escape me that Nero had some mighty big boots.
I ignored my bleeding heart which told me to look around and see the Drix treated women like royalty. All of my friends walked around with constant heart-eyes like anime characters. Objectively, I knew Nero was one of the best—loyal and respectful. But my brain convinced me otherwise. My brain reminded me the damage men could do. So forget it. Nero could take his soulful eyes and shove ‘em.
He was probably busy anyway. The atmosphere in the camp had been tense since the Drix had consolidated, but in the last few days, the feeling had intensified. Xavy and Tabitha had returned from their mission with a dozen Kaluma warriors—big, ridiculously attractive fuckers with bronze skin and the ability to camouflage to near invisibility. I’d seen one do it—a skill they called blanking—and it had been amazing. Their scales were sort of like those reversible sequin pillows.
The Drix were preparing for war with the Uldani, their enemies who had stolen us humans from our beds and dragged us to this planet to breed little Drixonian babies as slaves. The Drix also suspected the Uldani were behind the virus which killed all the Drixonian women on their home planet, as well as mos
t of the elder men. So yeah, it was common knowledge the Uldani were evil and deserved what was coming to them.
I hadn’t seen an Uldani yet, but some of the other women had. When Val and Sax were held in the Uldani compound of Alazar, they’d been put on display like zoo animals. The very idea of it sent my blood boiling, so much that sometimes I watched the Drixonian warriors train, and I’d nearly asked to join. This was my fight too. I wasn’t getting back to Earth, a fact that had taken me a long time to come to terms with, so I refused to let anyone else decide my destiny in this galaxy.
As evening set in, I sat in my room two nights after my run-in with Nero. Bazel lay on her belly among my furs, kicking her feet behind her. She’d grilled me on what had happened with Nero, and I assured her Mozart would be fine. If Nero went back on his word, I’d smother him in his sleep.
I’d smuggled some raw meat in my pockets from the kitchens, which was gross even if I’d wrapped it in a waterproof leaf. The smell made me gag. Still, I cut it into manageable chunks using a blade with a leather-wrapped handle, I’d been given by Xavy, and it was a prized possession of mine.
“Do you think Rufus and Mozart could be friends?” Bazel didn’t have her pet with her because he would do nothing but growl at Mozart and alert the whole clavas to our activities.
“I’m not sure, honey. I think Rufus would hurt Mozart.”
“Would he eat him?”
Rufus was very docile, and kind of dumb. I didn’t think he had it in him to hunt a mingo. Luna on the other hand… she’d bite Mozart’s head off in seconds. “I don’t think Rufus would eat him, but I think he might play too rough.”
“That makes sense. Mommy said Rufus thinks he’s the size of a house cat.”
I pointed to the painting of Midnight on my wall. “That’s a house cat.”
Bazel’s eyes went big and she scrambled off the bed to get a closer look. “Oh, I wondered what that was. Mommy tried to tell me what a house cat was, and even drew one for me, but it didn’t look anything like this.”
I laughed. Anna had an amazing array of talents, but drawing wasn’t one of them. All of us females owed so much to Anna. She was the sole survivor of an abduction of women who’d crash landed on this planet—stolen just like us. She met Tark, fell in love, and they hid in a secluded home for ten years before Daz and Frankie showed up. Anna learned to make fabrics, cook Torin food, and generally was a badass at creating a life for her small family.
Now that they had moved to our clavas, we all helped to watch Bazel, mostly to give Anna and Tark a break, and also because we loved being with her. She was a glimpse into our future. I happened to love being the cool aunt.
“House cats are about the size of a mingo.”
“But mingo is cute,” Bazel wrinkled her nose. “This cat is kind of ugly.”
I gasped in mock outrage and dramatically slapped my hand over my heart. “Hold your tongue.”
Bazel giggled and flounced over to where I sat at my desk preparing Mozart’s plate. “Is it time yet? Can we give him his food now?”
We hadn’t been able to sneak away yesterday, which was why I was taking extra-long preparing his dinner today. “Yep, all done.” I gave my hands a quick wash in a basin. “Grab the plate and let’s head out.”
“Can I put the plate down this time?” She clutched it with both hands, level to her chest.
“Sure, you can,” I smiled.
We crept outside and around the back of the building, our shadows stretching nearly to the wall in the light of the setting sun. Bazel was asking me if we could try to pet Mozart sometime as we rounded the corner. When I saw what waited at the base of the wall, I stopped dead.
Nero leaned casually against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, his ankles crossed. At his feet sat a metal contraption I’d never seen before, and my heart thudded in my chest. Disappointment made my stomach lurch, and I hated how badly I cared Nero had let me down. So, on the heels of that, anger blazed through me so swiftly that I felt like screaming.
Motioning for Bazel to stay pressed against the wall, I barely reined in my temper as I stomped over to Nero. “You promised,” I hissed at him. His nubbed brows lifted, but otherwise he stayed silent as I raged. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone. You said—”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” His voice was frustratingly calm.
I hated being interrupted. “Then why are you here with this trap? It better be a humane one.” A sudden thought occurred to me. “He’s not in there, is he? Oh God, did you hurt him?”
I went to drop to my hands and knees to peer through the little holes at the top of the box, terrified I’d see Mozart trapped inside—or worse, dead—when Nero wrapped his fingers around my arms and hauled me back to my feet.
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped at him as I wrenched myself from his grasp. “I can’t believe you. We’re not harming anyone feeding him—”
“It’s not a trap, Justine,” he said patiently.
I went still. “What?”
“It’s not a trap,” he repeated. “It’s a slow-release feeder.”
I blinked at him as my anger deflated like a popped balloon. “A what?”
Drawing me down with him, he crouched on the balls of his feet. I followed, my head feeling a little fuzzy at my whiplash of emotions.
His agile fingers unlocked the lid and opened it to reveal a selection of food—mostly dried jerky and fruit, as well as some nuts. “The food goes in here.” He nudged the food aside to reveal a small platform underneath it. “I set up a timer for this to release food once every rotation. It’ll land here for your mingo to eat.” He pointed to a small tray connected to the bottom of the box.
My mingo. He’d call Mozart my mingo. My face felt like it was on fire, and I blinked rapidly as my vision blurred.
“I meant to have this done yesterday, but there was other work to be done…” he actually seemed sorry he hadn’t rushed to make a complicated piece of tech for what he considered a pest. “Better late than never, I guess. You can still deliver fresh food if you’d like, but in case you miss a day, now you know he’s fed.”
He glanced up at me for the first time and sat back on his haunches. He didn’t say another word, only watched my face as I scrambled for words. It took a minute before I could clear the traffic jam of words in my throat “Nero, I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you like it?” He cocked his head, and he looked so adorably unsure for a moment I almost laughed.
I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth and placed my hand on his knee. After taking a moment to collect myself, I smiled. “Of course, I do. It’s perfect. Bazel was so upset yesterday when we didn’t get a chance to feed him—” My mistake hit me too late. I clapped my hand over my mouth as my eyes went wide. I’d just betrayed my partner in crime. Although it most likely didn’t matter. She stood along the wall just out of earshot, still holding a tray, her eyes huge and round.
“I saw her two rotations ago,” he said patiently. “I knew she was helping you.”
Okay, this was ridiculous. I dropped my hands from my mouth and narrowed my eyes at him. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
His lips curled into an attractive smirk. “Sure.”
“Could have fooled me,” I muttered. I fiddled with the box, poking around at the food. “He can’t get in here and eat it all in one go?”
Nero shook his head. “Mingoes are dexterous, but he can’t break this lock.”
“We call him Mozart.”
He shot me a questioning look.
“It’s the name of a composer on Earth. He makes music.”
“Have you met him?”
I held back a laugh. “No. He died a long time ago. Way before I was born.” I bit my lip. “Thank you for this feeder, Nero. I know you have so much going on, and the fact that you took the time to do this for me … for us,” I glanced over my shoulder at Bazel before meeting his gaze. “It means so much to me.”
He gr
inned, clearly relieved at my praise. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Why are you doing all this for one mingo?”
His eyes twitched. “The mingo? I’m not doing it for him.” He rose to his feet, shaking his head. “I’m doing it for you.” His fingers brushed the top of my head before he turned, and after a nod at Bazel, strode away.
I gaped after him until he was blurry, and it was only then I realized my eyes were welling with tears. I sniffed them back, plastered on a smile, and beckoned Bazel. “Come here, honey. Come see what Nero built us.”
* * *
Nero
I didn’t want to walk away from Justine. I would have loved to stay as she observed her Mozart eat his meal from the feeder I’d made. But it wasn’t the time. I got the feeling Justine didn’t often have anyone do nice things for her—especially males. So, I’d give her time to think about the gift I’d made her.
She didn’t know it, but my mission to make her my mate was now in motion. I’d still take my time and be mindful of her skittishness, but we were on my timeline now. Ever since I felt her hand on my chest, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. She’d see soon she was always meant to be mine. I’d been hers from the first rotation we met.
Some of my brothers were enjoying spirits after dinner and letting off some steam after grueling training. I’d spent much of the last two rotations in shooter drills, since I was the best shot in the whole clavas. I hadn’t slept last night, and instead spent the dark yoras working on the feeder. The missed sleep had been worth it to see the look on Justine’s face and hear her sincere thank you. As tired as I was while I trudged my way to my hut, I also smiled to myself, because yeah, the work had been worth it.
I pushed open my door and kicked off my boots. My hut was less a home and more of a control center. It was where I monitored what my eyes were seeing along our borders—strategically placed lenses which detected motion and heat signatures. A small comm I kept on my belt alerted me to any unusual readings.
I sat down in front of my wall of screens, leaning back in my chair as the darkness descended on our planet. Other than a few roaming antella and pivar pack scouts, there wasn’t much to see. I puttered around with the control settings on my large switchboard and checked my fuel settings which kept all my tech up and running. Confident all was well, I let my head fall back on the chair, so I faced the ceiling.