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“What?” I look at him, startled. “No.”
He takes a step toward me before stopping, looking frustrated. But he stops himself rather than simply barging into my space, which I don’t miss.
“I cannot tell what you are thinking or feeling,” he says, frustration apparent on his face. “Give me your blood.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to know what I’m thinking or feeling. That’s what words are for. Ask me what I’m thinking. If I want to tell you, I’ll tell you.”
But he just shakes his head. “Words can be twisted. Females manipulate with words.”
I scoff. “And males don’t?”
“Yes, but females are worse.”
“Wow. Just wow. You have a lot of nerve. We call that misogyny here, buddy—”
“If you have nothing to hide, give me your blood.”
I make a disbelieving noise and throw my arms out again, which he apparently takes for acquiescence, because before I could say anything else, he comes forward, takes my hand, and brings it to his mouth.
“Hey!” I yelp. “Wait—” But before I even get the word out, he’s pierced the tip of my pointer finger and then starts sucking on it.
It barely hurts, it’s just like when they prick you at a doctor’s office for a blood sample.
But First suckling on my finger for all he’s worth—that I definitely feel. I blink and think about yanking away.
And then I figure, screw it. Let him see. I’m not one of the manipulative females on his planet. Let him see that I thought about running and leaving him for dead. That I started but then turned back. Let him see just how squishy my stupid female human heart is.
Let him also see and feel my love for Juliet and Ana, and my joy at them finally finding the loves of their lives. And their children, I focus on my memories of Juliet’s precious little golden baby, his delicate little wings and golden scales. How Ana dotes on Ezo and his excitement at exploring all this planet has to offer.
Let him feel my love. I close my eyes and focus on all the love in my heart for those closest to me.
First sucks even harder and when he finally breaks free it’s with a small cry.
I’m shocked to open my eyes and find moisture in his. His hand trembles as he lifts it to my face. There is clear confusion on his alien features as he traces a finger down my face, gentle in spite of his intimidating claws.
I focus on the human half of his face, and the bright iridescent purple eyes that blaze into mine as he examines me.
“You feel so much,” he whispers. “When I taste you, I feel too.”
I blink, shocked at the tenderness in his voice as he speaks.
He reaches up with his other hand and holds my face in each of his hands, but I feel cherished rather than threatened. “There is so much love in you.”
He smiles then, a smile of joy and peace, that slowly clouds. “But I feel your pain, too. You have not been loved as you deserve, beautiful one.”
“W-what do you— I-I don’t know what you mean—”
He pulls me close, pressing our foreheads together. “I see now. I have been going about it all wrong. You do not care for the glory of fame or the prestige of being first among your kind. You do not care to position yourself or to gain power over others.”
I pull back from him and he allows it. Suddenly I feel like the floor has been yanked out from underneath me. I thought I was controlling what I was showing him, but instead he saw far more than I ever meant.
“W-what do you mean?” I whisper.
“I can give you everything you ever wanted,” he said, eyes heavy with wanting as he looks back at me.
I shake my head, ready to deny him.
Until he next speaks. “I can give you my complete devotion. You are not a chess piece to me. I will give myself to you and any kit we make as my first and foremost duty. You will be first and last in my eye. To no other will I swear devotion before that which I swear to you.”
I stumble a step backwards. “That’s not what I— I mean, I—”
“It’s all you desire. You pour love outwards to others longing for someone, anyone, to pour it back toward you without end. I can be your unending spring.”
“You’re just saying pretty things. You want to use me more than anyone. You want to kill my friends. You want to enslave my world—”
“I never said anything about enslaving. I have not thought much of it, but perhaps there is a way for my people and your people to go forward in peace.”
“What?” What the hell is happening? Did my blood make him drunk or something? “Who are you and what did you do to First? Grumpy guy? About seven foot tall?” I laugh, gesturing with my hand, but he doesn’t so much as crack as a smile.
