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“It’s the toxica,” I try to explain.

Another hoarse whine rasps from her throat.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “It won’t kill you. It’s simply rendered you useless so you can accept my seed.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and tears leak from the corners. In this moment, my chest feels hollow. As though an unseen force has reached inside me and scooped my insides out.

Leaning forward, I press my forehead to hers. It was something I remembered seeing my father do to my mother when I was young. An unspoken vow. A small display of affection. If my mother was fretting over a meal she was cooking, my father would stride over to her, collect her in his arms, and press his forehead to hers. Immediately, she would calm.

This close, I can smell Aria. She smells unlike anything I can place. A scent that does not exist in our facility. A scent that is unique just to her despite the cleansings Avrell has given to her on multiple occasions.

I inhale her and then breathe out my words. “I will take care of you. This is what our people do. We breed and the males look after their females. “I will protect you as we work together to create our offspring. And once you have one in your womb, I will keep you fed and healthy. You will want for nothing. My little alien, you won’t have to lift a finger. I will care for you as dutifully as I do my entire faction here. More so because you are mine.”

Lifting slightly, I look into her eyes that have now reopened. They are red, tiny veins crackling away from the irises, from her tears. Her flesh is wet and the overwhelming urge to clean the tears away steals over me.

Calix would lose his mind over what I want to do.

The craving is intense—like that of my need for the UV rays.

It tugs at my nerve endings. Sings songs that beg for me to follow through.

I give in, because my self-control is nearly nonexistent, and I dart out my forked tongue. My tongue runs along the wet trail of her tears, drawing out another fearful sound from her.

She tastes divine.

Unlike anything I’ve ever tasted.

The urge to lick her again wins over and I find myself tilting her nog this way and that as I clean away her tears. Eventually, I pull away and let out a heavy sigh.

“I like the way you taste,” I admit, confusion pulling my brows together. I certainly don’t remember my father licking my mother. I’ll have to bring this up to Avrell.

She blinks at me but she’s no longer crying. Her eyes slowly skim across my features as she studies me. I wonder if she sees me as a strong, worthy mate. One fierce and formidable enough to protect her young. I flatten my ears and let loose a violent, guttural growl to impress her. It should appear fearsome to all.

Another whimpering sound escapes and her eyes are once more darting back and forth. I’ve upset her again. I try the forehead press again. I lick her even though her tears are dry. I murmur explanations lowly to her. I stroke her hair.

“Y-You.” Her word is thick and sludgy in her throat.

I run a claw along her bottom lip and tug it down. “It will come back slowly. The ability to speak and move. That’s it,” I coo, my claw clinking across her rounded teeth.

She moves her nog slightly to the side, away from me, her eyes looking elsewhere. I don’t like that. Clutching her jaw, I bring her to face me again. I shake my nog at her and her nostrils flare. The brown speckles on her cheek are soon joined with red splotches. That, coupled with the furious glint in her eyes, makes me wonder if she’s about to attack. I pick up her hand and inspect her useless claws. Her teeth and claws are worthless. Unless she spits out acid, I don’t see what her little alien body can do to attack mine.

“If we have a son, I shall name him Sokko after my father,” I tell her proudly. “Lania after my mother if it is a girl.” I beam at her.

She slowly pulls her weak hand from my grip and reaches it up to my face. I crave her touch and close my eyes. So often, my mother would caress my father’s cheeks and—

“Rekk!” I roar when pain rips along my scalp.

Her fingers are tangled in my mane and she keeps yanking on it. I grip her delicate wrist that’s nothing but bones wrapped in her pink skin and untangle her grip from my hair.

“No,” I bite out, my ears flattening against my nog. “Don’t make me restrain you.”

She spits at me and I recoil, pushing her away from me as I retreat to one side of the bed. I swipe away her secret venom, hoping I don’t lose my sight. It takes a second to realize it’s harmless fluid. Like her tears. I dart my tongue out and lap at the sweetness.

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