CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRAZ
I sleep near my Ni-Kee, in case she has need of me during the night, or if her temperature burns hot again.
It’s a fitful sleep, not at all satisfying, fraught with worry as I still am.
Finally, I give up, rising as the first beams of sunlight descend through the craggy, overhead opening.
Ni-Kee’s sleep seems much more peaceful than it has the last three nights, and her arm flops over her eyes, her breathing deep and even.
The sunlight bathes her skin, her hair shimmering in the golden rays of early morning. My breath catches, and I close my eyes, my hands clenched into fists.
I long to touch her.
And last night, when she touched me—of her own volition—her gentle fingers running over the edge of my scar, I nearly lost control. Nearly brought my lips to her narrow wrist, nearly unraveled the tenuous thread of trust that stretches between us.
Perhaps it is her sickness, but she seems to be softening to me. Softening to the idea of being mine.
I hope it is not her sickness.
“Draz.”
I turn immediately at the sound of her musical voice, her pretty lips swollen and pink from sleep. The unnatural flush is gone from her skin, and she sits up easily, blinking in the bright light.
“Yes, my heart,” I answer immediately, without thinking.
Her eyes widen, and her throat does that adorable bob as she swallows. Regret washes over me. Why can I not simply control myself around this human female? But it’s true. She holds my whole heart, and I pine for her, loathe to leave her side. Waiting for the opportunity to graze that addictively soft skin, waiting for her to say my name, as she does now.
“Can you help me go to the bathroom?” Her cheeks color at this, and I grunt, annoyed by her species’ strange ideas of what is appropriate for their bodies.
“You need only ask,” I tell her, crossing to where she sits, her eyes still wide and unsure. “Your eyes are clear today, my wife,” I say, because I’m done. I’m done pretending that I can continue to be patient, or that I will deny what she is to me.
Because even if she decides she will not honor our mating ritual, she will always be my wife. And if she chooses not to, I will understand, and try to continue on without her, because she was tricked into it by her lousy human Federation.
But I will hope. And I will try. And I will not hide how I feel.
She opens her mouth, and I narrow my eyes, waiting for that familiar spark of her resistance. But she closes it, only putting her hands out for me to help her up.
When she stands on her own, shaky but still strong, I beam at her. “Well done, my mate. We will make it to Edrobaz in no time.”
“Maybe not today,” she says hoarsely, and I check her wounds as we walk out of the cave. They’re healing well, now scabbed over, and without the angry red streaks that marked them only a few days ago.
“Not today,” I agree. Early morning birds call to each other from the surrounding jungle, and a troblek trumpets somewhere in the distance. Mist creeps along the ground, clutching at our ankles as I walk her to the makeshift bathroom spot.
She clears her throat, but I raise one eyebrow. “Still shy?”
“It’s just… I don’t know. I like my privacy when I go to the bathroom.”
“Are you sturdy enough to not need my hands on you?” If she says yes, I will not insist. I will trust that she knows best, even though my instincts are screaming at me to coddle her.
She is a warrior, even though she is human. No warrior wants to be coddled.
She squints into the distance, where a large iquid swings from the branches. “Yes.”
“All right then, little one,” I say easily, turning my back and letting her do her business. “I am here if you need me.”
“I know,” she says with a quiet confidence that makes me ache for her. Moments later, she’s finished, and I help her back into the cave. The still water of the lunar cave glistens with sunshine.
“Would you like a bath today?” I ask her. Selfishly.
I want to help her bathe. I want to use the small packet of soap I found in the separatist’s bags, and lather it up all over her smooth, supple skin. I want to rub my hands on her.
“Oh my God, yes,” she moans.
My cock immediately grows hard. “I will help you—” I pause.
She stares up at me.
“If you need it.”
Her lips narrow as she thinks on it, her fingers drumming against where she clutches my arm.
“It’s hard for me to admit I might need help,” she says slowly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
My mouth drops in consternation. “Is that what you think of my offer? That you are a burden?”
She doesn’t answer, her shoulders folding inward. Carefully, I draw her chin up, until she’s looking at me, caught in my gaze.
“You will never be a burden to me, sweet wife. Helping you bathe will be an exercise in restraint for me, an exercise in worship, and likely, the greatest pleasure of my life so far.” I know of a few things that will eclipse it, but now doesn’t seem like the best time to bring up what she said about sucking my cock, so I clamp my lips closed and try to ignore the raging lust.
“And I can trust you to be a gentleman?” she says, her brow drawn tight together, creating furrows there.
I push my finger against the wrinkles, until they smooth out again.
“I am not gentle, nor am I a human. I am a warlord of Sueva, and I have honor. However, if you are asking I would disregard your wishes to remain apart from me, I would not.”
That doesn’t mean that I will not memorize the curves of her body, that I will not look upon her swollen breasts and think of them when I bring myself to orgasm later.
I may have honor, but I am selfish when it comes to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
NIKI
I dip a tentative toe in the water. It’s cool—at least, cooler than the warm, damp air of the cave, and I’m too gross to care that it’s not bathwater warm.
The cave reminds me a little of places on earth, the one with the stalactites and stalagmites. I can never remember which are which, but the formations are the same here, long and sharp, jutting up and down like teeth. Now that I’m not burning up with fever and starting to recover, I’m curious about this place.
The cave isn’t the grey or brown I might expect, but a polished white, so polished in some places that it’s hard to see when the sun hits just right, turning everything inside a dazzling white.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a lunar cave. Suevans come here, and to others systems all around the planet, when they wish to meditate. There used to be great temples, some full of treasure, for our people to seek respite in. They’ve all but crumbled now. This is a place of peace.”
“Lunar cave? Like the moon?”
“Just so.” He points up at the cave ceiling, where round circles let the light in. “When the moon is full, the cave shimmers with the pale light. It is a wonder to behold.”