Odin (Alien Adoption Agency #5) - Tasha Black Page 0,35

that was his job.

But Liberty was a grown woman, she could prepare a meal if she wanted.

“Odin,” she said again, knocking a little louder.

The door swung open to reveal a perfectly made bed. There was no evidence Odin had ever been there.

“Gods,” she whispered. It was happening all over again.

Her parents had disowned her, Wyn had died on her, and now Odin had left.

Tears prickled her eyes and her heart threatened to shatter. But there was a little boy in her arms, counting on her.

“I am not going to break on you, Colton,” she murmured to him. “I’m going to bend. I’m going to adapt, and we are going to be just fine.”

But if he was gone, then Odin had abandoned Colton too. Fury over it had her cheeks burning and her heart pounding.

“We’re going to check on our sheep,” she decided out loud.

Colton didn’t protest, so she marched down the hall and out the front door.

The soft light of morning made its way through the cloud cover and the air smelled fresh and sweet. After a few deep breaths, she was feeling more like herself.

Keerah bounded toward them on the path, ears flopping and legs flying out awkwardly as if the big tree-hound might get tangled up at any moment.

“Good morning, Keerah,” Liberty said, neatly sidestepping the beast’s big paws and managing to stay upright as Keerah gave her a friendly head butt in the hip.

“Show me the sheep,” Liberty told her crisply.

28

Odin

Odin woke up with his head pounding.

Liberty was talking to him, and she sounded quietly furious. That was new.

“I don’t need some guard around,” she grumbled in her bell-clear voice. “I’m going to take care of this farm on my own.”

He opened his eyes, ready to argue with her, when he realized she wasn’t talking to him.

She was talking to the tree-hound.

“If he thinks that he can just leave without telling me what’s wrong, then I don’t want him around anyway,” she said.

Keerah let out a deep woof.

Odin opened his eyes and sat up.

“I didn’t leave,” he called out. “I was guarding the sheep.”

Liberty jumped, but didn’t speak.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, getting up. “Let’s see if they’re still here.”

She headed off with Keerah without even waiting for him.

He watched her march away, hating himself for the way she tugged at his heartstrings. Somehow, she was even more adorable to him angry than under her usual ironclad self-control.

“Do we still have seven sheep?” he asked as she stalked back.

“For now,” she said.

“That’s great,” he told her.

“So you’re going to sleep out here every night for the rest of your life?” she asked. “Oh, no, wait, only until Colton is twenty. Then you can go on your way.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me,” he said, his own anger flaring up in spite of his best intentions.

“Why were you angry last night?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

“That sounds about right,” she said.

“Don’t be sarcastic,” he warned her.

“I don’t have time to be sarcastic,” she said. “I have to find out what happened to the other sheep. I’m going to take care of the farm work and then head to town with Old Alney’s scanner. If you want to help me, help me. If you don’t, don’t.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

He had gone to sleep last night planning to tell her he was leaving this morning. His sole intention had been to send a transmission to his superiors begging to be put back in the trenches.

But the idea of Liberty and Colton going to town without him was wrenching. What if something happened to them? What if someone tried to take advantage of Liberty’s innocence about life on a frontier moon? What if someone tried to hurt her, or Colton?

“Wow, I didn’t think it would be such a hard decision for you,” she remarked, turning on her heel and walking away, Keerah dancing down the path behind her.

“Stop,” Odin called out.

And in spite of her anger and his misery, her feet stopped moving instantly.

Deep in Odin’s heart, the dragon smiled.

“I’ll come with you,” he told her.

“Good,” she said, finally dropping the sarcasm.

She waited for him and when he had caught up, they began walking together.

The awkward feeling between them was only intensified by the deep pull of the bond.

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he told her when they reached the stable.

“Who were you mad at?” she asked. Her voice was calm again, as if she had spent their walk gathering herself.

“Myself,”