Stolen by the Zandian - Renee Rose Page 0,46

my hand in his, and we walk over to the blanket.

The three stand to greet us. In the pool, the other Zandian scoops up the children and carries them over.

“Greetings.” Khrys lifts his arm with his elbow bent at ninety degrees. The Zandians reflect the same gesture. “This is Kailani. She arrived on Zandia this planet rotation.”

“I’m Riya.” The female shocks me by speaking for the group. “And these are my mates, Jax

Tarren, and Ronan.”

I try to keep my eyes from bulging in my head. “All three are your mates?”

Her smile is almost sultry. “Human females are lucky on Zandia.” She trails her fingers over the rigid abs of Tarren, the shirtless Zandian who was down at the water with the young. He’s tall, and his face is badly scarred. I would find him frightening if it weren’t for the familiar and almost possessive way she touches him. “We can have more than one. They’re desperate to repopulate and spread their genes around.”

She touches the heads of the children. Both boys have lighter skin—somewhere between the light purple of the Zandians and her human coloring, tiny horns on top of their heads.

“This is Tarrian and Rylan, our boys.”

“I want to go back to the water,” one of the boys begs, tugging on his father’s arm.

“I’ll take you,” Jax offers. “Race you to the edge.” All three take off running, Jax jogging easily along as the little boys pump their legs vigorously.

I watch, fascinated.

“Are you hungry? My mates packed enough food for all of Zandia.”

“Well, the boys require food at an alarming rate,” Ronan explains. “Alarming for us, anyway. Just when we got used to how much an adult human needs to eat, we had to learn never to let a halfling’s blood sugar dip.”

“Do they eat a lot?” Khrys sounds surprised. He considers me with a warm gaze, and I find myself blushing, guessing at his thoughts.

“I would love to eat,” I admit.

“Sit down,” she urges, and we all sink to the blanket. She opens all the little metal boxes and places them in front of me. “These are heirloom tomatoes, originally from Earth. King Zander’s mate Lamira was originally an ag farm slave, and she’s shown Zandians how to farm since the human population requires food.”

I pop one of the small red fruits in my mouth, and it explodes with juices and flavor. “Mmm,” I moan. “Sweet Mother Earth, I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life.”

Khrys picks up some kind of berry and lifts it to my lips, wanting to feed me. “Have you tried lemonberries? They’re not from Earth, but they are delicious.” I hold his gaze as I take it, savoring the moment, which is shimmering and unreal to me.

I take some kind of fluffy bread and bite into it, groaning at the delicious taste and texture. For a few moments, I just eat, absorbing the wondrous scene I am a part of—the incredible tastes, the casual, friendly conversation, the children’s laughter and splashing in the water.

“Your young are healthy?” Khrys asks Tarren.

The enormous male shakes his head. “They both have been diagnosed, but we aren’t seeing any effects yet. We made the decision to go on as if things are normal until they’re not.”

My gaze flies to Riya’s face, and I catch a haunted quality I’d missed before. “They have the…” I— try to swallow— “the Z4-A virus? The one affecting your young?”

I look at Khrys, and he nods.

Unexpectedly, I burst into tears.

“Kailani.” Khrys sounds alarmed. He tugs me into his lap.

I shake my head. “I’m all right.” I don’t know why I’m crying. Not because I’m sad for the children because I’ve already made up my mind. If I have the means to save those sweet beings, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It’s more a release—all the fear and trauma of my past. The beauty before me. The kindness and openness of this marvelous blended family.

“You don’t have to do it. You don’t have to do anything,” Khrys murmurs, misunderstanding my tears.

“Do what?” Riya asks.

“You don’t have to,” Khrys soothes. “I won’t let it happen.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Riya asks.

“No, it’s all right.” I give a watery laugh. “I can do it. I’ll do it right now.” I push to stand from his lap. I felt like a victim before—like it was something being done to me. Now I see that it’s clearly my choice. And knowing that makes all the difference. I’m no coward, and I’ve endured the worst kinds