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“Eat,” I bite out, harsher than I mean.
She flinches and the sweet tears leak from her eyes. Her eyes drift from mine to the meat on her tray. With her utensil, she stabs at it.
Rekk!
Her useless teeth. I’m an awful mate. She’d be better matched with someone like Hadrian. Someone who makes her laugh. Or maybe Avrell. Tender and concerned about her well-being.
Yet…
She’s stuck with me.
Perhaps she didn’t destroy our quarters because she missed me.
It was because she detests me.
I must correct her feelings. Make her understand I can learn. It was I who learned, through trial and error, what half the machines in this rekking facility do. Someone had to figure it out and teach the rest.
“Allow me,” I utter in a softer tone. I stab the meat with three of my claws and then use my other hand to rip smaller pieces from the tenderloin. I’m careful to make them tiny, like her mouth. “When Hadrian was younger and his double fangs hadn’t grown in yet, I used to have to cut up his meat. That empty-nog mort still makes attempts to have me cut up his food.” I shake my nog but I can’t keep the smile off my face. “He’s not my mortling but he may as well be. I’ve raised him.”
When I lift my gaze, her sad expression has melted away and she smiles at me. Rekk, I love her smiles.
“You’re like his adoptive dad?”
I don’t understand the words but I get the meaning. “I’d die for him if that is what you infer, mortania.”
Her cheeks blush at the name Avrell teased me about earlier. I will call her that often. My little alien likes to be told she is beautiful.
“That’s sweet,” she says, a smile tugging at her lips. But then she grows serious. “This is all so…” She trails off. “Different.” She stabs one of the small niblets of meat with her utensil and takes a bite. Her eyes widen and a groan escapes her. “Oh my God. This is so good. Kevin wouldn’t let me have meat. Said I was more sellable as a vegan.”
More words I don’t understand.
Except Kevin.
I pick up on the distasteful way she said the name.
“Who is Kevin?” I growl, unable to keep the jealous bite out of my tone. So much for being gentle and kind to my mate.
She doesn’t flinch this time but instead sits up straight, leveling me with a hard glare. “Kevin is my talent manager. He makes sure my hair and makeup are always on par. Kevin chooses my wardrobe. And Kevin decides on the roles I will take. He owns me.” Her throat flashes bright red and she will no longer meet my gaze. “Last year, he started getting me more revealing roles.”
I tilt my nog and try to understand her gibberish.
She continues with a heavy sigh. “He was the one to give me my first hit of flora. To ‘calm me down.’” She laughs bitterly. “I calmed down all right.” More tears spring in her eyes.
My chest hurts from seeing pain practically bleeding from her. I want to hold her in my arms until it disappears. But something tells me she needs to get this out. Like the time Draven nearly went mad. I had to lock us in a reform cell. He ranted and ranted for three solars straight. With only me to listen. I let him take his rage out on me, much to Avrell’s horror. And eventually, when Draven let it all out, he found some peace.
I’ll help my little alien find her peace.
This…this is something I can do. Something that Avrell or Hadrian or any other mort here isn’t capable of. I am the strongest. I can handle it.
“Tell me more, Aria. If you must unleash the rage on me, I am your willing victim.”
She blinks at me and lets out a small laugh. A sweet laugh. I made her laugh. Too bad I wasn’t trying to be humorous. Small strides though. I will count it as progress.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she says suddenly, the laughter dying in her throat. Her eyes are cold.
“I will try for you. I can be patient,” I assure her. I reach across the table and grasp her hand. She tries to pull away but I don’t let her.
“This!” she snarls, her voice cruel. “This is why you won’t understand.” She whaps my knuckles with her utensil.
I jerk back, my hand smarting in pain. What did I do wrong? My ears flatten against my nog, preparing for battle.
I can’t battle my mate though.
Rekk, she is so confusing.
“You’re all the same!” she yells, rising from her seat. “Every goddamned planet, you’re all the same! Predators!”
We are, in fact, predators, but I don’t interrupt her to point out this fact.
“You’re just like Kevin,” she spits out.
