His to Claim: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance - Taylor Vaughn Page 0,52

the accord their own elected leaders negotiated with us.

“D’Rek. Seriously, what’s going on? You’ve got to talk to me,” Ki’Ra says now, commanding me as if she is the ruler and I her subject.

“I do not have to do anything, Ki’Ra,” I remind her, my expression becoming harsh. “I am your Kel.”

She slants her head in a way that tells me I will not like the next words out of her mouth. Most likely they will be both audacious and disrespectful.

Hu’mans seem incapable of learning, even from their own mistakes. Their history is riddled with tragic stories, so similar in nature, I can only conclude they suffer from an inferior intellect.

“I will see you on the morrow,” I tell Ki’Ra before she can react to my pronouncement. Then I swipe a hand to end the call, without waiting for her answer.

My ridges set.

I have much to think about during my trip back to my unpolluted, underpopulated planet, which has never turned upon itself in war.

14

Kira

What the moons is going on with D’Rek?

As I make my way down to the palace gardens, I’m still considering that question the day after he pretty much hung up on me.

As usual, the sun is shining brightly overhead. Warm, but not too warm. New Terrhan has brutal hot seasons. At this point, a few of our older settlers have probably passed on from heat stroke. And I can just imagine my own parents moving about their work as slowly as possible, so as not to collapse in the community fields.

No, my planet couldn’t be further from this tropical paradise, I think with a pang of guilt.

The garden alone proves that. Though it technically belongs to the palace, it’s considered a public venue. People like N’Maryah come to walk amongst the stunning blooms, house their fauns in the palace stables, and even picnic on the rolling lawns.

I’ll miss this place when I’m gone, I think, as I look about the beautiful grounds.

“Is that her? Is that the hu’man our Kel has decided to breed?”

“Why look at her mammary glands and her hips!”

“The color of her skin is extraordinary. I hear the hu’man females are many shades of brown and pink. Do you think they all look like this one? Surely they cannot all have such large mammary glands!”

Well, I won’t miss everything…

I try to ignore the gossip as I walk toward the faun-drinking fountain in the middle of the garden with my head dipped low. I truly didn’t appreciate being able to walk around New Terrhan without people gawking at and talking about me, just for being…well, human.

As much as we’ve come to learn about the Xalthurians over the last couple of decades, they seem to know little to nothing about us. I can tell that many of the Xalthurians are still trying to figure out what to think about me. Sometimes I receive admiring looks from the tall, jewel-toned Xals, visiting the gardens. But sometimes their ridges bristle in a way, I can easily translate as disgust.

A lot of them don’t seem to understand—or maybe plain don’t care that I can hear them talking about me. I’ve heard more about my “mammary glands” in these few days, than I have in my whole, entire life.

It almost makes me wish the planet wasn’t so tropical. The collection of shimmery dresses that magically appeared in the closet the day D’Rek gave his permission for me to walk outside are way more beautiful than the bark work clothes we’ve been patching up for decades. But they’re also more revealing.

Whereas we like loose clothes during our over hot summers, the Xalthurians seem to prefer that everything molds and sucks. And, possibly because their mammary glands are so small, the style here seems to be plunging necklines. So, while my stomach appears flatter than it should in this dress after a month of lazing around and eating however much I want, my breasts have never been more on display.

I almost don’t blame all the Xalthurians who openly stare at me as I walk along the garden path. And I really can’t wait to talk to D’Rek about giving me something with a more modest neckline when he returns.

One more day. I only have one more day until he’s back. My…I don’t know what to call him now. Is he my captor? My lover? My baby daddy as they used to call it in many of the old planet entertainments, featuring people who looked like me. Whatever he is to me,