Page 24 of Kenan's Mate
“Yes, he’s gone most mornings. Please do visit again. I hope your master doesn’t hurt you anymore, and Helena as well. I’m sorry for what you’ve both been through.”
Her sorrowful smile speaks volumes. All the human women on Tallia are hurting right now. All of us are heartbroken and scared. And none of us have even a remote chance to escape our new masters or mates. Tallia is our permanent home and Earth is but a memory.
“Thank you, Laylah. I hope your mate is good to you as well. We will see each other soon. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” Excitement bounds through me as I watch her disappear into the forest alongside her Ghessan companion. I’ve made a friend today, and not just any friend—a human woman. Though I communicate with Heggal almost daily, I have missed speaking aloud to another person, especially someone from my culture, someone who also doesn’t agree with the Kleaxians’ often brutal ways.
I hope Joanna returns soon, and I pray she doesn’t incur the wrath of her master again.
Chapter Eleven
Kenan arrives home with a stack of books in his arms.
I meet him in the entryway, unable to keep my mouth from falling open when I glimpse the wondrous items he’s holding. The books are from Earth, and the spines reveal titles in English, several by well-known authors of mystery novels I’ve read before. I doubt the books are for Kenan, but I don’t want to be presumptuous, so I remain standing calmly with my hands clasped together. I also try very hard not to think about what happened to the previous owner of these books.
“I know many humans enjoy reading, and I thought you might like to have these. Several merchants in town are selling off items that have been scavenged from what’s left of Capital Acres.” He sets the pile on a nearby table and draws me near.
I’m touched by his thoughtfulness, and I wrap my arms around his waist. He kisses my forehead and I melt into him. His delicious masculine scent makes me swoon at least a dozen times a day. Oftentimes, it’s far too easy to forget the brutality he’s capable of.
“Thank you, Kenan,” I say, sparing a quick glance at the books. “I recognize some of the titles and authors. I can’t wait to read them.”
I’m not certain, but I think his cheeks flush. It’s difficult to know for sure, because his skin is already a dark shade of red, but I’m stunned by the possibility that my appreciation could have such a profound effect on him.
Later in the evening, we curl up on a couch in the sitting room, both with our books while soft music fills the room. The music isn’t as mournful as the last pieces he played for me. Instead, it’s a pleasant background tune that doesn’t grab me enough to break my concentration from the novel I’m reading. If anything, ithelpsme focus on my book.
He’s reading a thick tome of what he claims is ancient Kleaxian poetry. I try to hide my surprise at the subject matter of his book, but he notices my slight shock.
“Kleaxians rarely write or read fictional stories as humans do. Rather, our stories are told in songs and in poetry. This entire book is one large poem written by the late Theaik of Urma Mountain. It’s an epic retelling of the Battle of the Red Planets, a bloody battle that took place over a thousand years ago, going by human standards.”
“Have you read this poem before?”
“Many times. It is one of my favorites.”
I smile and then delve back into my mystery novel, but I can’t help but notice from my periphery how quickly he turns the pages. Peeking over at what he’s reading, I glimpse the two spread pages covered in tiny symbols. He flips the page again. Do all Kleaxians read so fast? Or is Kenan some kind of speed reader?
Before I return to my book, I admire how engrossed he is in the pages, his expression one of apt interest and his eyes scanning back and forth in rapid succession as he absorbs each line. By the time I reach the fifth chapter of the mystery novel, Kenan flips the tome shut and returns it to the bookshelf near the window.
“Are you already finished with the whole thing?”
“Yes, but I am a slow reader compared to most Kleaxians. I didn’t learn to read my native language until I came to live here with my uncle.” He nods at the book I’m holding. “Are you not enjoying that particular book? There are several others to choose from.”
I flush. We’ve only been sitting here for about an hour. “It’s great, but I’m not the fastest reader.” Though he’s part-human, he obviously hasn’t spent enough casual time around full blooded humans to know Kleaxians read at a superior speed in comparison. My heart pangs for how lonely he must have been living inside the facility as a child.
“Would you like to stay up reading longer, or are you ready for bed?”
Not wishing to fold the page I’m on, I quickly memorize the page number and shut the book, then place it on the couch. “I’m ready for bed.”
His nostrils flare, and a moment later his eyes are dark flaming pools of desire. The bulge in his pants becomes evident, and I swallow hard, wondering if he’s in one of his gentle or rough moods this evening.
Despite the ever present knowledge that I’m his captive, this day has felt remarkably normal. We’d had a pleasant dinner, during which he told me of his day, and then we’d sat next to each other in the living room reading, like some old married couple.
My parents used to close each day by snuggling up on the couch and reading. Dad would scan his newspaper, and Mom would read the latest romance novel. Sometimes they would work on the crossword puzzle in the newspaper together and humorously argue over the answers.
Part of me likes this sudden normalcy with Kenan, but another part of me fears it, because the more accustomed I become to him and this planet, the more difficult it will be to shield my heart from him. Every day, he grows on me more and more, even as my fear of him remains in place. Sure, there are times I can almost forget my fear, but those brief moments are just that—brief. All I need do is remember the whipping he gave me on our first day together, as well as the slap to my cheek. Pushing these thoughts away, I decide I want to feel normal tonight, I decide to forget his capacity for violence and ignore my fear as much as possible.
“Go upstairs and remove all your clothing, Laylah. Stand in the middle of the room and wait for me.”
My breath catches. “Yes, Kenan.” I rise from the couch and hurry from the sitting room, telling myself I’m only fast to obey because I don’t want to risk punishment. I can only imagine how horribly he would beat me if I tried to refuse sex. Even as such thoughts visit me, heat gathers and pulses hard between my thighs.
