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He touches my cheek, his gaze locked on mine, and jerking him off while we stare at each other in the dark might be the most erotic moment I’ve ever experienced. Then, his hand covers mine, helping me work him in the way that will get him off, and the only sound is that of his breath catching. When he comes, the purring in his chest stutters, the only audible indication of his release. Liquid heat pours over our joined fingers, and I continue to slowly work him in my grip, wanting to drag out the pleasure for him.
“When we have privacy, I’ll do that with my mouth,” I promise him.
“Then I am very, very glad we are on our way back to the village,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against my brow in a gentle nuzzle. “I cannot wait to be alone with you.”
I can’t wait, either. I snuggle against him as he grabs one of the smaller skins nearby and uses it to wipe himself and my hand clean. Once we’re comfortable, I tuck my head against his chest and listen to the purring of his khui, his strange parasite that has decided that I’m the most amazing woman in the universe. It’s pretty flattering if you think about it that way. “Why do you suppose your khui chose me out of everyone? There are other women in your village, right?”
He nods, pressing his lips drowsily to my forehead. “Many females, yes. But I resonated to none.”
I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s exhausted, and I know I need to let him rest. Even so, I can’t help but ask another question. “Yes, so why me out of everyone?”
“Because we are the best pairing,” R’jaal murmurs, half-asleep. “You and I will make the best kits. The khui always chooses the strongest pairings.”
“Kits.” He’s said that word before. “You mean children, right?”
“Yes. Kits. They always come after resonance.”
I go still. They…do? “You can make me pregnant? Even though we’re different species?”
“The khui would not match us otherwise.” He yawns, and when there’s no more words forthcoming, I realize R’jaal has fallen asleep.
Okay, so the parasite doesn’t just decide that I’m the right woman for him. It’s picking me because our genetics pair up to make good children. The realization is staggering. Of course this biological pairing has another level to it. Why would a freaking parasite care if I make R’jaal happy or not? It doesn’t.
It just wants to proliferate. And the best way to have life proliferate is to bring together mating pairs.
I should have known. It’s not about soulmates. It’s about breeding.
Babies.
I’m glad he can sleep, because I’m wide freaking awake now.
The next morning, R’jaal nuzzles my cheek, as affectionate as ever, and I’m the jerk that pulls away. I try not to look at his hurt expression, because I know he’s not going to understand what I’m feeling right now. My head feels like it’s on overload, and I need to come to terms with everything swirling inside it.
So I’m quiet as we eat a breakfast of beef jerky and spicy seed trail mix. I’m quiet as everyone puts on the terrible, bulky-looking clothes I hastily patched together last night, and I’m silent as we slip on the foot-mittens—the fittens—over our feet so we can travel. The supply packs are re-loaded with food and more furs, and I notice that all the men are now carrying spears, as if they anticipate an attack. Tia grabs one and hands one to me, too.
I take it, just in case I want to shank something. With the mood I’m in, it’s likely.
Because now that I’ve been working through the implications of the situation in my head, I’ve realized a few things. Not only am I R’jaal’s perfect parasite-chosen mate, I’m his only chance for children. The parasite—the khui—picks one person and one person alone, if what he’s told me is true. And I’ve been quite happy to flirt with the idea as long as it involved sex and pleasure and having parts of my body worshipped by his tongue.
It’s quite another to realize a baby is the expected outcome.
I feel like an idiot, too, because of course a baby is the expected outcome. Why would a parasite make us want to have sex? Want to pair up? Of course there’s a bigger expectation than just “yay, sex.” It’s my fault for not putting the two together.
But R’jaal lied to me. He said he’d help me try to get home, and now I’m realizing that’s not the case.
As we leave the cave and slog through the calf-deep snow, I gaze up at the gray sky and the twin pinpricks that are the suns. It’s like a snakebite in the sky that breaks through the otherwise thick gray gloom, and the sight of it reminds me that this isn’t Antarctica. This is an alien planet far away from home…and the only ships I’ve seen are downed ones.
