Page 81 of Alien Jeopardy
“They were… distant. No unhappy, but maybe not necessarily happy, either.” I frown, digging through my memories and trying to make sense of the emotions they dredge up. “They didn’t talk about… things unless they were necessary.” I’m struggling through the words. “They weren’t mean to each other, or anything like that, but they seemed more like…” I push back my dirty hair, exhaling in frustration. “They seemed more like coworkers who had worked together for a long time than maybe even friends. They weren’t interested in each other.”
“What happened to them?” His question is soft, gentle.
“They divorced the summer I graduated from high school. It had been finalized for two days when the Roth attacked.” My smile is bitter, and sadness threatens to steal my breath. “Maybe they would have both been happier alone, or with someone else, but that future was stolen from them. They both died in the first wave.”
He squeezes my hand, and I look down, blinking back the stinging in my eyes. “Your planet had to grow up too fast,” he says. “I think maybe you did, too.”
I nod, unwilling to talk about this anymore.
It’s unhealthy not to talk about the things that hurt us; I’ve been in enough on-again, off-again therapy sessions to know the truth of that.
I force another bite of the meal, though my appetite has waned, just to give myself something to do.
“My planet, on the other hand, is overgrown. Bloated, I would say. The monarchy is more greedy and power-hungry than ever, but the king has violated the most basic compact between ruler and ruled: he has simply stopped caring for them.” He pauses, taking another bite, chewing fully before he continues. “It’s treason to speak like this. No matter what happens here, I cannot go back home. I will not.”
“Would you want to, if it were different?”
He gives me a long look. “I don’t know that any of us can truly ever go home. I think that, ah, my home is no longer a place. I think my home could be a person.”
My eyes go wide, and I turn to absolute mush.
In the space of a heartbeat, I’ve practically leapt across the table. He catches me in his arms, a rasping laugh on his mouth that I quickly replace with my lips.
He tastes like lemons and butter and, inexplicably, white wine, and he feels like he could be my home, too.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Ka-Rexsh
Ellison is sunshine in human form. Her body is soft against mine, and I’m astonished by the fervor of her embrace.
She isn’t in heat, and still, she chooses me.
She chooses this.
Finally, she pulls back, a self-deprecating smile on her face.
“I stink,” she says, and the wrinkle in her nose paired with the frank admission makes me laugh.
“Luckily for you, I know how to take care of that particular problem.”
“I don’t want you to lick me clean,” she says tartly.
A laugh booms out of me as I throw my head back. My wings rustle against the floor, pain shooting through the one still being repaired by the medical gel. “I was thinking a bath.”
She balances on the tops of my legs, her arms thrown around my neck as she runs her fingers through my hair.
I could happily stay just like this the rest of the night, our arms around each other, the easy sound of her laugh tangled with mine.
“I don’t see a bath anywhere in here. Is that another thing you can get out of the insta-pantry?”
“It will be on the underground floor.”
“How do you know?” Her eyebrows quirk, her face so full of expression that I can almost hear the thoughts racing through her brain.
“This is modeled like a typical Cranyx home.”
