Alien Heart, page 12
“And what if you do not like whom the Lavrika chooses for you?”
“I...”
I honestly hadn’t considered that. From what I’d seen so far, the Lavrika was the equivalent of a psychic Cupid matchmaker. It never failed. Every human who had a mate adored their partner and seemed so, so happy. I’d assumed it would be the same for me.
Now that assumption was changing. Because now I knew that if I did have a mate, someone who wasn’t Varrow, it would be much harder to get with the program.
But there wasn’t anything I could do about that. So I sighed and said, “I’m sure it would work out. The Lavrika knows what it’s doing.”
Varrow made a grumbling sound, then ended the conversation by saying, “We should sleep. You need rest.”
“So do you,” I said softly. He was trying, in his gruff and awkward way, to take care of me. I just wished he’d direct some of that same care towards himself. Or let others care.
Others. Like me.
No.
As hard as it was, I had to start shaking this. We would be entering the territory potentially occupied by the sixth tribe soon.
I could be meeting my mate in a matter of days...
I needed to get my head on straight.
“You’re right. Goodnight,” I said, lying back down and getting into the bedding. This time, I didn’t demand that Varrow lie down with me. I’m just going to let Varrow do what Varrow’s going to do.
The exhaustion returned, and my eyelids, hot and swollen from crying, grew heavy. I let them fall closed.
The last thing I was aware of before I drifted away was Varrow moving.
Lying down at my side.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Varrow
I was in a foul mood for two reasons as dawn drifted over our camp. One, because I’d barely slept, too aroused and on edge with Cam-Eel breathing softly at my side.
And two?
Because I’d learned more about Cam-Eel and her thoughts about getting a mate. Now I knew that I was competing with the faceless fantasy of an unknown man from the sixth tribe.
I felt all the better about not telling her I was her mate. She was dreaming of a man made perfect by her own mind. Which made the reality of me as her mate all the more broken and harsh in comparison.
She deserves every fantasy made reality.
Cam-Eel, too, seemed out of sorts when she awoke, though I was not sure why. All I was sure of was that she kept a greater distance between us now. She was still polite, friendly, even. But she had reined in some of her exuberant warmth.
It... hurt.
But it also proved me right.
See? All the better to know now that she does not and cannot love you.
The words rang hollow. But I kept saying them anyway.
There was little conversation beyond the most basic of practicalities as we rode. For this, I was grateful. I only had her beauty and her scent to distract me from keeping my eyes poised for predators. And I did not allow myself to become distracted. The further into the stone we went, the greater the danger from the ablokoi became.
But we did not encounter one, nor any zeelk. We only encountered leaning fangs of white stone, punching up out of the landscape, lining the valleys we wound through. Gahn Razek and I knew our way through the seemingly endless labyrinth of mountains and valleys, and we led the way with our mates, Kohka and Priya behind us, the other warriors drawing up the rear. At times, we had to stop and wait for the others – in places that became too steep and rocky for the desert irkdu to easily traverse. But otherwise, we encountered few hindrances, and we made good time. By the time we stopped to make camp for the night, we were well past the halfway point. We would have one more day of travelling through the stone, and one night of camping at the edge.
I would be glad to be free of these mountains. The Death Plains had their own dangers – like the pockets of quicksand eager to swallow up unwary warriors. But generally, the plains were safer. It was why our people had made our tents there for so long.
We had a quick meal of gorka and two mountain rakdo that Oxriel caught.
I forced myself to eat, knowing I needed to keep up my strength so that I could protect Cam-Eel. But it was difficult. My guts were hardening into a boulder of anxiety that seemed to grow larger and heavier every moment. Every moment Cam-Eel sat beside me and did not speak to me or smile at me.
When I could no longer take the silence that had stretched between us for so much of the day, I spoke to her.
I said the first thing that came into my addled brain.
“Do not forget where you are sleeping tonight, little bean.”
Cam-Eel froze mid-chew, keeping her head turned forward.
She swallowed noisily, then finally glanced at me. She gave a tight smile.
“I won’t.”
When she said nothing else, I grunted and stood.
“Well... Good,” I said. “It is getting late. We should go.”
Cam-Eel stood, too.
“Yeah. I’m just going to get cleaned up in Priya’s tent. And I need to get some fallink.”
“You can clean up in my tent,” I said, my brows furrowing. I hoped this was not some ploy to spend the night in Priya’s tent instead of mine. I would not stand idly by while Cam-Eel tried to sleep, shivering and uncomfortable, because her bedding had been snagged by her friend in sleep.
Cam-Eel’s single pink tongue slipped over her lips, drawing my ravenous gaze.
“No, I need to... You know. Undress.”
I felt her words in my cock.
“Of course,” I said tightly. Then I remembered she’d mentioned something else. “Why do you need fallink?”
Fallink was a black fluffy plant that was native to the Death Plains. I knew the Gahnala Jozelyn loved to harvest it and was growing it at the settlement, but I did not actually know why.
“Oh. It’s a useful herb for us humans,” Cam-Eel replied. “It acts as birth control. It... It stops our cycles.”
“You wish to avoid pregnancy?” I asked, the words coming haltingly on my tongues.
“Well, not much chance of pregnancy without a mate,” she replied. “But it’s useful to not have a cycle, especially when travelling.” Her gaze grew thoughtful and far away. “But as soon as I get a mate, I’m going to stop using it. I want children.”
I’d felt her previous words in my cock.
I felt these ones in my chest.
They were echoed by the ones Razek had said to me earlier.
Denying her a mate is also a punishment.
She wanted cubs...
A painful knot built up inside me, so tangled I could barely unravel all the threads. Fear. Grief. But even more than that, desire.
“What about you, Varrow,” Cam-Eel said slowly, eyeing me cautiously. “Do you want kids? Cubs?”
Having assumed for most of my life that I’d never get a mate, I’d never considered it.
I considered it now.
Cam-Eel, filled with my seed and rounded with my cub. Cam-Eel holding a babe, smiling down at it, then up at me...
That image punched the breath from my lungs and left me reeling.
“Yes,” I said, the word savage. I had not meant to answer. I was barely aware I even had. Something else was answering for me. When I became aware of the manic pleading of my heart, I realized just what it was that had spoken so foolishly in my place.
Quiet, you.
Cam-Eel’s face softened and she smiled at me. It was a more genuine smile than she’d given me all day. But it was also sadder.
“I think you’d make a great father.”
I felt my sight stars explode as I stared at her, astounded by her words. She turned and strode quickly to Priya’s tent, disappearing inside.
She thinks I’d be a good father?
Not just good. Great.
She was probably just being kind. But even so, even so...
My heart soared.
I tried to catch it, tried to hold it down. To keep it safe.
So that, when it finally fell, crashing into a pulpy heap, there might not be so much pain.
But I failed.
And it flew anyway.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Camille
I took my time bathing and cleaning my clothes in Priya’s tent. I was alone in there, as she’d elected to stay outside a while longer to work on her maps under the vibrant glow of the stars and asteroids.
My hands moved slowly as I rubbed the talka gel into my skin and finger-combed it through my hair. And I didn’t wash my clothing with any urgency, either.
I didn’t like to think of myself as a coward. But there was no denying it.
I was avoiding Varrow.
Hopefully, if I take long enough in here, he’ll already be asleep by the time I get to his tent...
I should have known that wouldn’t happen. Even though I took a solid hour, maybe even more, getting ready for bed in Priya’s tent, Varrow was still stationed outside his own, waiting for me like some kind of frozen sentry.
My heart leaped at the sight of him, and giddiness rose in my chest. Merde. Still no luck in shaking this crush. And his expression of pained hope when he’d said he wanted kids definitely had not helped things. That had only added a fan to the flames. Because now, as I walked towards Varrow, all I could picture was him holding a little half-human, half-Sea Sand infant in his arm.
I wonder what expression he’d make then...
“You didn’t have to wait out here for me,” I said as I reached him. I rubbed my hands up and down my cold arms, realizing too late I’d forgotten my jacket in Priya’s tent.
“Yes, I did,” Varrow said, his sight stars tracking the movements of my hands over my skin. “I did not trust you to return. I have learned by now that you seem oddly fond of being stubbornly cold when you could much more easily be warm.”
I laughed.
“You’re one to talk, Monsieur I’ll-Sleep-Sitting-Up-Instead-of-Sharing-the-Bedding!” It felt good to talk to Varrow. To laugh. If I were being honest with myself, it had taken a lot of energy to hold myself back from him today.
“Then let neither of us be stubborn. Let’s go inside.”
I hated the little thrill that ran through me at the thought of being alone with Varrow in his tent again. A thrill that only I felt.
When we were together in the confined space of the tent, the smell of talka gel was strong. And as I sniffed the air, I realized it wasn’t just coming from me.
“Did you clean up, too?” I asked. I turned, trying to locate him, but my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. I ended up spinning right into him. His hand caught my elbow, steadying me, then letting go.
“I did,” he replied, a smoky, disembodied voice in the dense darkness of the tent. “You kept away so long, I began to worry my smell was part of the reason you did not return.”
I laughed again, much harder now. There was that dry Varrow sense of humour coming out. He was serious so much of the time that I rarely got to glimpse it. So when I did, it was always surprising. And lovely.
“Yeah, right,” I said, still laughing, fighting for breath. “I love the way you smell.”
I realized what I’d said only after the words had left my mouth. Heat flooded my neck and cheeks.
“I mean. You guys don’t really sweat, right? Not like us humans. Ha!” I tried to play off the awkwardness of the moment, but Varrow was not helping. He watched me (presumably, since I couldn’t see his sight stars yet) without speaking.
“Well, whatever! You do smell nice,” I finally huffed, feeling defensive. Why should I be getting all awkward and embarrassed? He did smell good! I was just stating a fact!
“You like my scent, little bean?”
Whoa. That voice was much closer now. I leaned forward incrementally, gasping as my nipples brushed Varrow’s abdomen. They puckered, and I reeled backwards away from him.
“Yes. It’s lovely. Bottle it and sell it on Earth and you’d overthrow the most prestigious perfumeries of Paris. Au revoir, Fragonard, bonjour Parfum de Varrow!” Luckily, so many of my words were French that they’d just sound like nonsense to Varrow. And at least that way he wouldn’t know that I actually was babbling nonsense.
“Hmm. I would take that as a compliment,” came the rough rumble of Varrow’s voice. “But then again, I know how much you also love the putrid scent of beans. So perhaps instead I should be offended.”
For a split second, my heart sank. Then I noted the lightness in his tone. He’s joking again.
I collapsed into giggles, sitting down on the bedding and kicking off my boots.
I wish things could always be like this. I wish I could keep him this happy...
I knew I couldn’t take away the pain of his past or anything like that. But sometimes, when it was just us two, things felt so... Nice. Brighter. Happier. I felt safe.
I just hoped he felt safe, too.
It was that thought that kept me awake, long after Varrow laid down beside me, once again keeping to the very edge of the bed area.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he finally asked.
“What do you mean?” I cried, not realizing that he’d been awake at all. Dieu, he’d been still as stone.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I shot back. I rolled onto my side. He did the same, and we lied facing each other.
“I am not sleeping because you are not sleeping,” Varrow said gruffly. “Your breathing is all wild and uneven.”
“Well, sorry I’m breathing too loudly,” I grumbled. “I can’t help that you have super hearing.”
“I do not have super hearing. I have regular hearing. And one would not need super hearing to tell by the rushed cacophony of your breath that you are wide awake.”
“Fine. You got me. I can’t sleep,” I rolled onto my back, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face.
“It has been a long day. Your body needs rest,” Varrow said sternly. “What is keeping you up? Or rather, what do you need to sleep?”
Honestly? I either need you to get way closer to me in this bed, or I need you far, far away to sleep.
I didn’t say any of that out loud.
“I don’t know why I can’t sleep,” I fibbed. “Do you want to just... Talk for a bit? Or something?”
“Will it help you sleep?” Varrow asked. Goosebumps slithered over my skin as his warm breath brushed the side of my face and neck.
“Maybe,” I said. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t help. Because now I was excited by the idea of staying up to talk to Varrow. But it sure beat just lying there in the silence, especially now that I knew that Varrow was listening to my every breath.
“What do you wish to talk about?” he asked.
“Huh,” I said, stumped. I hadn’t actually come up with a subject. And I didn’t exactly want to say, “Gee, tell me about your childhood, Varrow!” Because we all knew how that would go. But thinking of Varrow’s childhood did give me an idea.
“I could tell you about my old life. My family,” I said. I held my breath, feeling weirdly shy. As if he’d reject that idea. As if my life, my history, wasn’t interesting enough for him.
But instead, I felt him shift ever slightly closer to me.
“Tell me,” he growled.
I smiled. Like a fucking idiot.
As I spoke, I stayed on my back, looking up at the top of the tent. I was worried that if I rolled over to face him again, I’d lose all control and burrow into his chest.
“Well, you know our world is called Earth. I grew up in a city called Paris. My parents ran a restaurant there. A restaurant is somewhere where food is prepared. They cooked for other people.”
“Hmm. If only they had passed on some of their skills to you,” Varrow said, his tone dry but his words teasing.
“Hey!” I cried, laughing.
I rolled towards him, even though I’d been trying not to.
And I regretted it instantly. Because even in the darkness, I could tell that Varrow was smiling.
It was breathtaking, even though I could barely see it. His sight stars were a haze of glittering smoke as his full lips pulled into a slightly crooked grin.
I wanted to reach out and trace that grin with my fingertips.
Then I wanted to crush my mouth against it.
Merde. Merde merde merde.
I kept talking to distract myself.
“Well, whatever you say about my cooking, my parents were amazing at it. My mom was from an area in France called Provence. My dad was born in Japan, in Kyoto. They met in the restaurant scene in LA, and after they got married they moved to France to open their own restaurant. I basically grew up in that place. It was more home than our house was. At least... At least it was before they died.”
“What happened to them? Was there a battle? A predator?”
Despite the heavy subject matter, I found myself chuckling. Varrow was probably picturing les rues de Paris to be similar to his world – crawling with beasts and patrolled by men with blades.
“No. Nothing like that. My father died when I was eight years old. A stroke. My mother only passed away last year. Cancer. That’s a type of illness.”
“This was difficult,” Varrow said heavily. My eyes filled with tears at the simple, serious acknowledgement. He of all people knew what loss was, and I appreciated his brief, blunt words.
“It was,” I agreed thickly. I took a deep breath, then continued on, moving back to happier subjects. “But there were so many good times, too. Times with both my parents, in the restaurant. I’d be in the kitchen, conversations flying around me in French, Japanese, and English. Normally, Papa was the more serious one, and Maman was the more easy-going one. But it was totally the opposite during busy times at the restaurant. Maman barking orders, Papa keeping his cool.” I smiled at the memories as they poured through me – Maman’s wavy blonde hair getting frizzy and her cheeks getting red from the kitchen’s heat. Papa’s calm smile as he worked with practised precision, not frazzled in the slightest.
