Page 19 of Survivor
"I suspect my son is well-schooled in Zarpazian law," Vysar said softly, echoing my sentiments.
"Why would he do that?" I asked stubbornly. He'd already gotten injured by Seibring for helping me. I couldn't stand anything else happening to him.
Understanding that Vraxxan essentially signed his own death warrant by rescuing me... by continuing to protect me stirred an unusual sensation in my belly. It wasn't fear that gripped me but rather a comforting warmth. A tender and enveloping feeling that made my insides feel soft and squishy.
"I believe you know," Vysar said softly, a faint smile curling his lips.
Did I?
I knew what I hoped, the wishful thoughts swirling in my mind like a whirlwind, just out of reach. Yet, why else would he stay by my side? He could have easily left me here with his father, returning to mend the rift with his mother and save his own life. Yet, he chose me, prioritizing my safety over his own.
And I chose him too. Against his mother. Against the belief that he was anything less because of the stupid color of his scales. Against anyone who would try and hurt him. The complexity of my feelings was something I couldn't quite untangle, yet there was one certainty—I chose him, whatever that entailed.
"I need to talk to Vraxxan." I jumped to my feet, determined.
"He is not back from the hunt," Vysar settled beside a clump of alien sweet potatoes, his hands absently wrapping around the dark purple stalks.
I felt a surge of frustration rising within me, a desperate urge to argue that it didn't matter. That seeing Vraxxan now was of the utmost importance. But then, reason washed over me like a cold wave. Neither Vysar nor I had any clue which route Vraxxan chose to take. We could enlist the Peecha's assistance to track his whereabouts, but doing so might interfere with his hunt. I managed to dampen the urgency, but the overwhelming need to see him churned inside me like a wildfire, its flames licking at my insides, intense and relentless.
"Settleqizim," Vysar said softly, reaching up to wrap his hand around my wrist and pull me down beside him, indicating the wealth of alien sweet potatoes that lay buried at our feet. He tapped his ear with a grin. "I will know of his approach."
Qizim?The word didn't translate, but I had no room for curiosity in my brain. Only the need to talk to Vraxxan.
"You'll tell me when you hear him returning?" I fixed Vysar with a gaze that dared him to refuse.
"Of course." Vysar pulled the blade from the sheath at his waist. "Here, qizim,” he said, holding the flat blade out to me by the hilt. "This will help you uncover things that are buried."
I had the strangest feeling he wasn't talking about alien potatoes.
Chapter 10
Vraxxan
I strode through the jungle, the massive maramount perched over my shoulder. It was an enormous beast that would keep us well-fed for several weeks, its meat succulent and plentiful. The scents of earth and greenery enveloped me as the jungle around me hushed, as none of the denizens I passed wanted to suffer the maramount’s fate. A deep sense of peace settled deep within my chest. The thought of staying here for an extended time no longer felt strange. It felt right, like a soothing balm to my spirit.
Reuniting with my father had been a source of immense joy, the rekindling of a bond that time had stretched but not severed. Yet, being with Lucy surpassed even that. I loved how she met each discovery with unbridled enthusiasm. How she tacked each new task as an adventure. Her presence was a light in my life, a beacon that drew me in ways I never expected.
It was peculiar, the depth of feeling I held for her after only a few fleeting rotations. According to my father, Zarpazians had a unique way of signaling a goddess blessed true mate bond. Our scales would spontaneously shift to all black—without thought, without effort. When Lucy was near, I felt the faintest tingling along the edge of my scales as if they were fluttering,but the continuous swathe of color from my shoulder to thigh remained.
Surprisingly, my inability to shift didn’t trouble me as much as it once did. Instead, I found a kind of comfort in the way Lucy regarded me. Her eyes were warm and appreciative, and she felt my coloring was attractive. I enjoyed seeing myself through her eyes. Though a part of me wished for the shift… wished for the blessing of the goddess, I no longer considered myself lacking for want of it.
It was because of her that I so relished the simplicity of life here, the uncomplicated rhythm of our days. There was no politics, no court intrigue, no looking over my shoulder to check how close my mother stood with the knife. Only living in harmony with nature and each other. The high regard my father held for Lucy was easy to see and completely understandable. She’d managed to wriggle her way into my heart with an even greater intensity. If fate decreed, I spend the rest of my days on this planet alongside Lucy, I would consider myself well and truly blessed.
Though I knew deep down that staying in this oasis was only a fantasy, so was my hope for exploring the desire I felt for Lucy. I would have to return to Zarpazia at some point—either to face my mother or deal with the fall out of her deposition from power. Yet the thoughts of returning to my home world were no longer daunting and held a newfound determination. It no longer felt it sufficient merely to thwart my mother’s plans. Zarpazians deserved so much more. They deserved the joy and purpose woven into my father’s tales of bygone days. They deserved lives of peace and prosperity, where worries were as fleeting as the gentle breezes that rustled the leaves of our forests. For the first time in my life, I felt ready to take my place as heir to the throne, resolute in the desire to free Zarpazians from Mother’s hateful rule and bring us back to peace andfreedom. And this resolve, this burning passion, was all because of Lucy.
Her outlook on life was infectious. She viewed everything with a boundless sense of joy. Her eyes sparkled with wonder at the simplest of things, and her laughter rang like a melody, turning the mundane into something extraordinary. I wanted that for my people... for myself.
I stamped along the well-worn pathway, thinking to stop at a nearby creek to gralloch my prey and use the current to carry the blood and offal far away from the treehouse. Father told me there were only a handful of predators that posed a significant threat and that they only hunted at night. Still, I wanted them kept as far away from the treehouse—and Lucy—as possible.
The air near the creek was noticeably cooler, a refreshing change brought about by the fine mist of vapor that settled on my skin. A stand of weathered and ancient boulders stood sentinel by the creek side, marking the trail that wound its way upward toward the distant roar of the waterfall. I laid my quarry atop the largest of these stones, its surface smooth and cool to the touch, and unsheathed my short blade.
With the utmost care, I made delicate incisions, ensuring the skin remained whole and unblemished. The maramount’s flesh was supple and resilient, with a thick nap that promised durability—ideal for crafting Lucy a garment or perhaps a sturdy pair of boots. While my father possessed an abundance of furs and we’d taken clothing from the Verdesian ship, enough to clothe us for several cycles, the thought of Lucy wrapped in furs from my own hunt filled me with a comforting warmth.
I detected Lucy’s presence before the sound of her footsteps reached my ears, her unique fragrance wafting through the air, the most exquisite aroma imaginable. I could not imagine where the idea that Zarpazians found the human scent repulsive originated. Each time I caught a whiff of her sweet-floral-spicy scent, an undeniable longing stirred within me, causing my body to respond with an intensity that became almost unbearable and impossible to ignore. Just being near her made my cock hard. At night, sleeping so close to her felt like a torturous test from the goddess. Rest was long in coming, and when it did, my dreams held images of her writhing underneath me as I sheathed myself in her warmth. Wise or not, I wanted Lucy. More than I ever remember wanting anything.
Lucy rounded the curve in the path, choosing the fork that guided her toward the creek. Sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves, casting dappled patterns on the jungle floor and igniting fiery sparks in her dark red hair. The golden rays highlighted her soft skin, which had taken on a golden hue under its gentle caress these last rotations.
I smiled to myself despite the frown that creased her brow and spark of anger that made the gold in her eyes shimmer. I held up the one finger signal, showing that I wasn’t a shapeshifter in disguise, and a grin tugged at her lips, diffusing some of her ire. She returned the sign to me, although with a bit more vehemence than usual.
