Page 9 of I'm Not Your Pet

Mala told me to loosen up, but it was difficult to look past my own morality. Even for the recruits who I loved as though they were my own blood.

“It’s been a stressful trip,” Mala had said earlier that day over breakfast. And I knew…Iknewhe was right. “We’re here for three days. Let them blow off some steam.”

Despite the fact that our species was one of the largest and most physically powerful on this side of the galaxy, I still hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of letting the cadets travel alone. They were young and inexperienced. And most looked at our species and wanted to take advantage of the money we were often associated with. So Mala and I had offered to escort them to one of the more reputable pleasure houses, and wait to accompany them home.

It was that offer that had gotten me into this mess in the first place.

Because while I’d told myself countless times that I had no business at this end of the planet, I couldn’t seem to help but look. Pity and shame curled cold and hard in the pit of my stomach as I watched the windows on the building light up one by one. I knew that they only did this when there were shift changes. New entertainers would swap with the old, the darkened glass flooded bright as they took their positions to act as living advertisements.

Like mannequins, they’d stay impossibly still, often posed provocatively to entice more visitors.

Species of all kinds flickered into focus as the lights in the windows turned on and Mala and I settled in for a long wait. I tried not to openly observe. It seemed rude to do so. Part of me was tempted to break the glass and free them all, but I knew that would cause more problems than it would solve.

Pirates ran amuck here—the very pirates that had caused our trip through space to be as stressful as it had been. Freeing the slaves would only result in them getting stolen again—and placed in establishments far less safe than these. Additionally, it would put a target on our backs. And as the largest cargo shipthat traveled to and from our home planet, it was imperative I got the supplies home safely.

It still felt wrong though.

Even though I knew all of this.

Maybe it was my childhood that caused me to feel this way. But I’d always had a hard time stomaching the idea of leaving the weak to fend for themselves.

“Not everyone operates under the same strict moral code that you do,” Mala reminded me, as if he was reading my mind. “I agree with you, for the record.” The other Sahrk jerked his head toward the windows, still steadily lighting up as dancers took their shifts in the tiny booths. “But you and I both know we have no power here. If you empty the windows they’ll simply fill again. And you’ll put all of us in danger.” Mala sighed, and I nodded, though I hated that he was right.

“I don’t understand why they want to go inside in the first place,” I grumbled, even though Ididunderstand. This was their first voyage. They hadn’t seen what I had during my years in space. They were curious. And in our culture, there was nothing to prohibit them from looking. It was only touching that was taboo.

“Yes, you do,” Mala called me out. His blue skin caught the flickering street lights as he shifted his weight, arms crossed over his bare chest. “You were young and curious once.”

“Not like that.”

“Yeah,” Mala snorted, head tossing back, his pearly white teeth flashing. “I suppose that’s giving you too much credit. You’re right. Not like that.” He slanted me a coy smirk, and I head-butted him playfully.

We hadn’t met until my fifth voyage. But even then, I’d been the way I was now. Jaded. Traumatized. Unable to let go.

Another window flicked on, and I swiveled to look at it without thinking. Mala didn’t speak again as he straightened.Which was good. Because the second my eyes caught on the newest dancer my thoughts fizzled out entirely.

He was different from the others.

Bipedal, like I was. With downy orange fur on his head. Spots all over.Thousandsof them. Like the constellations I’d coveted as a child. Like space. Unlike the other dancers, he sported no tentacles, no suckers, no claws or sharp teeth. Harmless, he stood stock-still, dressed in nothing but a tiny pair of black shorts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

He glanced behind himself at the now-shut door he’d entered through. When it was obvious he was alone and whoever had urged him into his booth was gone, he relaxed. And then…he did something entirely unexpected. Rather than take his position, he…simply sat down.

With his back to the wall in the tiny booth, he pressed his peachy face to the glass till it fogged. I watched, enraptured, as he traced designs inside the condensation. Constellations, just like the ones I’d been thinking about, formed beneath his clever fingers.

It was such an odd display considering where and what he was.

My hearts thumped erratically, a ringing in my ears that only grew louder the longer I stared. It felt like the ground beneath my feet was shifting, even though I knew it wasn’t.

“Roark?” Mala’s voice startled me, but I couldn’t look away from the tiny dancer.

I couldn’t.

“I…” My breath caught, my hands clenching into fists as the small creature puffed along the glass some more to keep himself distracted. The other performers had taken their poses by that point. All were more provocative than he was. And yet…none of them caught my attention the way he did.

He looked…

God.

He was beautiful.

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