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His lips firm into a line, his ears twitching. “Do not be sorry, little one. My troubles are not your burden to bear. Rest while I finish taking your stats. It will not be long.”
It’s strange to feel safe. And for once in a long time, I do. On my own planet, it wasn’t exactly easy after my mother died. And then…
My mind drifts to my captors. The cold ship. Their even colder glares. A shiver runs down my spine. At least these people—despite clearly not being human—seem more human than the ones I was with last. I dart a glance at his dark eyes as he works. His brows are furrowed in concentration. A very humanlike expression contorts his face.
Definitely safer.
Especially with Calix.
Miraculously, or perhaps because the past few days have taken their toll on my body, I do as he instructs and relax. As he works, my mind wanders to all the information Aria has tried to cram into my brain when I first woke up.
We’re on a horrible planet. The terrain, the atmosphere, the creatures, the pathogens. It’s amazing these morts as she calls them have survived this long. But the aliens here are good, she claims. From what I’ve learned of them and now with Calix, I can see that. No one has tried to harm me. Not like…
I blink away those horrible thoughts and focus on the now. Here. This facility. Aria told me about all the alien guys here. I haven’t met them all. Her guy is Breccan—the commander. He’s big and grumpy. Not sure why she likes him, but she’s carrying his baby nonetheless. Hadrian is younger than the others and is like her assistant. Avrell is the doctor, and apparently Calix is kind of like their scientist. There’s another one named Draven, who sort of creeps past the doorway to the sub-faction, but never enters. Some of the other names run together and I can’t remember them all. Another one I remember, though, is Sayer. Aria explained how he’s a linguistics genius and has somehow implanted a translator into the other morts’ heads that allows them to understand hundreds of languages, including ours. Not only do they understand them, but it helps them reply back in the language they’re spoken to in.
The sound of the humming from the machines and the muffled tap of his stylus against the screen lull me into a light doze, this time thankfully void of terrifying dreams.
When I wake again, it’s to the sound of rain—or at least that’s what it sounds like. I crack open an eye and find myself once again in Calix’s arms. I could get used to being carried around like precious cargo.
“What are you doing?”
He sets me down on my feet and moves to a dimly lit closet he illuminates with a press of a button. Water spurts from the ceiling with the press of another. “I have finished my examination. Our cleansing unit will help rejuvenate you. I have programmed it for a gentle wash and scrub and I will have your minnasuit ready for you to change into.”
“Minnasuit?” I ask as he hovers by the door.
He gestures toward me. “Minnasuit. Dress?” His cheeks go adorably dark. Not with red like mine would, but almost with shadow, which I assume is his version of a blush.
“Clothes?” I say around a smile.
When he smiles back at me, I lose my breath. Except this time it has nothing to do with my faulty lungs. It could be because the double fangs he’s sporting are, to put it lightly, fucking intimidating, but in a sexy way. A way that makes me curious about how they’d feel if I were to kiss him. They give a wolfish edge to his otherwise handsome face that I find undeniably attractive, alien or not. “Yes, clothes. I forget what Breccan’s mate calls them. If you need anything else, I will be just outside.”
He turns to leave and I take a step forward. “Calix.”
“Yes?” he says over his shoulder.
“Will you…” I feel silly saying it and I almost tell him never mind, but somehow this new Emery, the one who rose from the cryotube after she thought it was the end, is braver, more willing to take chances. “Will you stay? Close, I mean. I don’t want to be alone.”
I’d been alone for so long, after losing my mother, it didn’t even occur to me to focus on the fact he wasn’t human. If it were any of the big guys, like Breccan or that scary one, Draven, who I’d seen poking his head in here and there, I’d be running in the opposite direction, but there’s a part of me that recognizes Calix on a deeper level. A part that doesn’t want him to go anywhere. Maybe it’s because he knows how to heal me, but I don’t think that’s it.
