The Alien Warrior King's Accountant - Loki Renard Page 0,22
of my anatomy.
Every time Tyrant touches me, I find myself sparked into lust. Even in this awkward position where I am being carried like a sack of sexy potatoes, I feel myself reacting to his presence, his scent, every bit of his muscularity and his power — which reaches far beyond the mere physical.
He carries me through the final veil to a space so much vaster than I realized was even possible for this ship to contain. It must be as large as a city, or perhaps even larger.
“These are my chambers. You will eat here, and then you will be returned to your place of work.”
“These are… this is amazing.”
His chambers are large. Very large. The size of a small football field. I don’t know if that’s a thing, but that’s what this feels like. The ceiling is miles above my head, and the walls are so far away I would run out of breath if I tried to run between them. One side of the room is entirely open to the universe. I can see an endless dancing array of stars and nebulae, coating the cosmos in pink and blue clusters of eternity.
The sight makes me stop struggling, stop squirming, and simply stare. This is truly awesome.
He lets me down, but I don’t go anywhere. I just stand there, pressed against him, forgetting the impropriety of being snuggled up to the sheltering body of King Tyrant.
“This is where you live?”
“This is where all my belongings are, if that’s what you mean.”
It is sort of what I mean. I wonder if he even understands the question I am trying to ask. Is this his home? He doesn’t seem like a castle sort of guy. He seems like a floating warship sort of dude.
“I keep everything of true value here, so that I will forfeit it if I lose in battle. Every time I go to war, I have my most prized positions at risk. It is fair and it is good for me to do this, to be at risk of sacrificing all.”
“Ah.”
“Ah? That is all you have to say, human? I tell you of my innermost thoughts, and you say ah.”
“I’m sorry. This is just so much to take in.”
“No. You are tired and you are hungry and your human brain is incapable of functioning properly if you do not eat. Come. I will cook for you.”
Again, I am shocked. I never expected someone like Tyrant to cook for me. My ex-boyfriend was a mailman and he never cooked for me. He didn’t know how to cook. We’d go out for dinner, or we’d have toaster waffles at home. Or toaster strudel. Basically, everything was toaster oriented.
“Really? You’ll cook food for me?”
“I like to cook,” he announces. “I am good at cooking. Sit down, and I will feed you.”
There are tears in my eyes. I must be exhausted to react this strongly to Tyrant wanting to feed me. Nobody has tried to feed me in years. This is so sweet, so much sweeter than anything I’ve ever had. That’s kind of sad, really. I probably should have had a man treat me better than the alien I’m contracted to work for who inserted a computer in my ass.
“There," he says, proudly presenting a plate he pulled out of nowhere. “I call it potato oblongs with water beast.”
It’s not really cooking when you can whip items out of forever, but I know better than to complain. If this is the way he cooks, this is the way he cooks.
The plate he presents me with is decorated with little cherry tomatoes and shredded carrot and an elegant vinaigrette complete with battered fish and freshly incarnated fries.
“Fish and chips, wow, thank you!”
“It has a name on your planet?”
“It does. It’s really popular in some places.”
“Do you like it, human?”
I take a bite. It is as delicious as it looks. The fish tastes fresh and the fries have just the right amount of satisfying crunch. The salad matches it perfectly too.
This is simple food. He could have produced something weird and alien to impress me, but he chose something that he thought I would like. Is Tyrant… sweet?
“I would like anything you made for me.”
He gives me a surprised look. “I believe that is the only grateful thing you have said since your arrival on this ship.”
“I believe this may be the first nice thing you’ve done since I got here.”
The sentence falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.