Page 33 of Survivor
“I do.” A wistful smile curved her plump pink lips. “I’d be happy to live the rest of our lives here with our kids.”
My heart nearly shattered with happiness at her words, a cascade of emotion flooding through me. Kids. Younglings. In my entire life, I’d never dared consider such a concept. Mainly because I knew my mother would not allow me to father an heirand threat to her throne. But the idea of having younglings with Lucy sent such a sharp sense of longing through me I found it hard to breathe, my muscles tensing to keep the overwhelming joy from consuming me entirely.
“Do you... would you want to have kids... babies?” Lucy hedged, her voice trembling slightly, obviously misreading the intensity of my reaction.
I hooked my finger under her chin, bringing her luminous eyes to mine, drowning in their depths. “Having younglings with you would be an answer to dreams I never dared to dream.”
The happiness on her face shone brightly, like the morning sun breaking over the trees. It faltered slightly, as though hidden by a passing cloud. “Do you think we can? We are different species, after all.”
“As you know, I did some research on humans after the female killed my brother.” Calling itsomeresearch wasn’t exactly true. I’d delved into the human anatomy rather deeply, fascinated by every detail. Mainly, I found myself perplexed at how a species so seemingly fragile could best my brother. But the more I studied, the more I became intrigued by their resilience. “Based on what I read, it seems human wombs are simple biologically, which makes it possible for human females to carry and birth younglings from other species.” A realization settled in my gut like a warm embrace. We’d been fucking quite often over the past few rotations. Lucy could already carry my child.
She grew quiet, perhaps mirroring my thoughts, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my skin. When she spoke, her voice was soft and thoughtful. “What about you? How would you feel about staying here permanently?”
I answered first with a kiss, letting my lips linger against hers for a long, sweet moment, pouring all my devotion into that single connection. “I have never been happier than when youare by my side. It doesn’t matter where we are as long as we’re together.”
“I love you,” she smiled happily, a radiant grin crossing her face.
“I love you, too.”
Love was not a term in the Zarpazian language, but I had learned that for Lucy, on her world, the small word encompassed everything mates should feel for each other—devotion, protection, desire, and endless tenderness. The way she looked at me when I said it was worth adopting the small word into my vocabulary and into my heart.
I drew Lucy into my arms and kissed her deeply, my fingers tangling in her sun-warmed hair. Her lips—soft as velvet petals—parted beneath mine, her breath catching in a delicious gasp as she responded with equal fervor. The heat between us blazed fiercer than the jungle sun beating down through the thick canopy, setting my skin aflame wherever we touched. I felt desire coil low in my belly, hot and insistent, my body responding to her eager touch as her fingertips traced fire along my skin.
Slowly, reverently, I savored every exquisite moment—the silken feel of her skin beneath my exploring fingertips, the breathy sighs escaping her swollen lips, the intoxicating way her body arched toward mine, seeking more. Each caress was deliberate and worshipful, each kiss deeper and more intoxicating than the last, as I made love to her with an intensity that made the world around us shimmer and disappear. Our passion built like a gathering storm, wild and gloriously untamed in the secret heart of the jungle, where only the distant calls of exotic birds witnessed our surrender to one another.
A little while later, after a refreshing rinse in the crystal-clear creek and slipping back into our clothes, Lucy and I strolled hand in hand along the winding path toward thetreehouse. We moved unhurriedly, pausing occasionally to pluck ripe, sun-warmed fruit or gather wild vegetables whenever we spotted them nestled among the verdant foliage.
“Your dad must think we’re sucky foragers,” Lucy laughed. Her delicate fingers expertly harvested small pale green numastk berries from a nearby bush, the juice staining her fingertips.
I laughed warmly, my eyes drinking in her beauty. “I suspect my father realizes we are spending our time on other, more pleasurable pursuits.”
Lucy’s cheeks blossomed into a delightful rosy hue that complemented her radiant smile. Unable to resist her allure, I swept her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest as our lips met in a kiss. Despite having made love twice already this morning, desire for her coursed through me like wildfire. With our lips still locked in sweet communion, I glanced around and spotted a perfect patch of plush moss beneath a towering tree. I lifted my mate, relishing the way she giggled as she wrapped her arms around my neck and legs around my waist. My feet began carrying us toward that inviting natural bed, my cock hardening with anticipation.
A distant boom rippling through the tranquil air reluctantly pulled my thoughts away from the promise of bliss.
“What was that?” Lucy whispered, her voice tinged with concern as I lifted my gaze skyward.
When my eyes caught sight of the object cutting through the ozone layer, I gently signaled for silence as I moved us under a dense canopy of trees that would shield us from view.
“It’s a ship,” I murmured softly against her ear as I carefully set her down, keeping her close to my side.
“Shit!” Lucy exclaimed, her fingers tightening around mine. “Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly, tracking the graceful descent of the small vessel. As it drew nearer, I recognized the distinctive design of a Zarpazian cruiser. Worry surged through me until the ship drew near enough for me to spot the familiar crimson stripes adorning its sides.
“It’s Diarvet,” I said, my face breaking into a relieved smile, the tension melting from my shoulders.
“You’re sure?” Lucy pressed, her beautiful eyes searching mine for reassurance.
“I would know his ugly ship anywhere,” I told her, pulling her close against my chest. “He has painted those stripes on his ship since we were barely past younglings. They’re supposed to represent flames. My cousin is blessed with many talents—painting, unfortunately, isn’t one of them.”
“I thought you said he didn’t know where we were hiding,” Lucy whispered, her delicate fingers clutching mine as I gently guided her back onto the winding path. The dappled sunlight danced across her worried face.
“He didn’t.” My mind carefully replayed the last few conversations with Diarvet—our whispered plans and a shared determination to thwart my mother’s schemes—yet I was certain I’d revealed nothing that would betray our sanctuary. Which left only one possibility. “The only reason Diarvet would journey here is if the queen has been deposed and the rightful king restored to the throne.”
Lucy squealed with joy, her face illuminating with happiness as she threw her arms around my waist in a tight embrace. Her body fit perfectly against mine like two pieces of a cosmic puzzle finally united. Though my heart swelled for my father’s fortune, a wistful sadness crept in as I contemplated what his return to power would mean for our existence here.
“I am sorry, zeihava,” I murmured against her hair, the endearment rolling off my tongue like honey, “but it seemsour dreams of building our life here will remain just that—a beautiful dream.”
