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Shifting the weight of the large container that carried their food and a few romantic essentials that her human companions had insisted were of paramount importance, Varik set it down on the floor and pressed his hand against the key panel to their private quarters. The door slid open revealing a dim interior. Scooping up the container, he stepped inside as quietly as possible. From the common room, he could hear his mate in their nest, cooing to their offspring as she worked to get the little one to sleep. Varik’s heart squeezed. It was his greatest pleasure to be able to hold his tiny female for at least a little while but tonight his priority was his mate.
Turning toward the food preparation area, he set the flowers aside and placed the container on the long counter that had been customed designed to his mate’s desires for what she called “adequate cooking space.” He was honestly impressed with her newly discovered passion for cooking during her pregnancy and their quarters always smelled wonderfully of food that far surpassed much of what was offered in the starship’s Food Distribution Hall. But not tonight. Tonight, he told her to take the evening to relax. That was if little Lila had allowed her mother to rest.
Varik shook his head at the disgruntled wail that rose from the room and quickly unpacked the containers of food. Lila was not cooperating with his romantic plans it seemed. He had better hurry if he wanted his surprise ready before Stacey caught on to the fact that he was home. Setting the food on the table, he returned to the preparation area to fetch the flammation cones—or candles humans called them, even if they considered their spire shape somewhat odd—and set them on small plates all over the table before lighting them. Satisfied with the general appearance of the table, Varik made quick work of popping of the lids from the containers and dividing the food from them between two plates with the speed, efficiency, and precision of a male trained in the Calysii Empire fleet. He was just discarding the containers when he heard a watery hiccup as the door to their nest slid open and his mate’s delectable scent curled tantalizingly around him.
“Varik is that you?”
“Yes, blossom,” he replied, carefully picking the bouquet up from the counter. “I am here my love.”
“Oh good. I thought I smelled dinner,” she replied in a teasing voice as she came into view.
Wearing a loose dressing gown of the same vivid green of her eyes fashioned in Lorgoon and holding their wiggling youngling against her breast, she never failed to steal his breath. She was lush still with post pregnancy weight making her soft, and all too pleasing when drawn up against his hard frame. She only had become more beautiful to him. Dropping to his knee, he held the flowers out. He was pretty sure that he was mixing things up with human courtship and mating rituals, but he did not care. He would happily drop to his knees at any time for his mate. Even when his body became feeble with age and knees rickety as two old posts in the mud of Lake Kurshoon, he would still drop to his knees for her.
Her eyes widened as her eyes dropped to him and her lips tipped in a soft smile that sent a bolt straight to his heart and other anatomical regions that would have to wait until after Lila was asleep. “What is this?”
“For you, blossom, with a hope that this year you may accept me once again as your most honored Valentine.”
Her eyes misted over but her smile was one of pure happiness that brightened his heart as she stepped forward and relieved him of his flowers as he took their daughter in turn. “Of course you are. You will always be my only Valentine,” she assured him. “There is no other male I wish to be mine. You are a wonderful mate... and father,” she added with a glance toward their little one snuggling against the breast of his uniform, her tiny nostrils flaring with obvious pleasure.
“Only because I have the best mate and nestling to make me into such a male,” he replied as he leaned in and dropped and tender kiss to his mate’s lip.
She chuckled softly and returned his kiss. “And to think I once believed that you were not terribly romantic and was quite fine with that. I do believe that I’ve never been more grateful to be wrong.”
He shrugged and extended a free hand toward his mate, leading her toward the table where he already had the small, portable nest set up and waiting for Lila. “I may not be as romantic as some males, but my heart is truly yours and that would make even the crustiest warrior sing his blessings to the gods and compose poetry for the female he loves.”
“Did you write my poetry, Varik?” she asked, her brow rising.
He shuddered. “Gods, no. I am a terrible poet so you will need to be pleased enough with these words I do have,” he adds with a playful smile that sets her off giggling again.
Drawing out her chair, he seated his mate before laying Lila in her nest beside his chair where he could tend to her. Lila promptly rolled toward him and stuffed her teal-colored fist in her mouth. Lorgor gestation was shorter, and their offspring grew quickly, something that never ceased to surprise his mate, but Varik knew he would miss these moments when they passed because it would be over all too soon. Smiling at the way her broad little tail flicked impatiently and the tiny spikes of her developing vibinum lifted with impish interest, he tucked her blanket around her and gave her mother his attention again.
Varik lifted his cup to his mate, his love overbrimming his heart. “Never was a male who thought he had accomplished everything he desired so grateful to have been brought low by love. Never did the gods find a truer mark than when they aimed their darts toward our hearts. Never was one so blessed as I to have the mate I never deserved, but always yearned for and dreamed of.”
“Oh Varik,” Stacey sighed as she set down her cup.
Rising to her feet, she launched into his arms, spilling the Kadesh wine everywhere. It had been an expensive gift sent from Lerix for their anniversary but there was still the rest of the bottle waiting and the uniform could be cleaned. The female within his arms was worth it all and more.
“You are most definitely a poet,” she sighed. “I love you.”
His frill on his neck puffed up, straining against the collar of his uniform with the intensity of love flowing through him. “I love you too, blossom.”
