The Alien's Revenge - Ella Maven Page 0,13

her cheeks. She had blunt little teeth—no fangs—and the bottom row was a little crooked. I was fascinated by every one of her features, from her small feet to the tip of her nose.

I was honored that she named me and felt my chest puff out with pride. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been proud of anything or stood tall. But my Merr-anda was changing that.

“Heart,” she said again. Then she held up the empty jug. “Qua.”

I went still. She knew my words. Did that mean she knew the other female? The warriors?

Images hit me hard and fast—battles and blood. A large warrior with a nose ring and dark hair. A cliff overlooking the freshas. Brotherhood and peace. Until the betrayal. My enemy’s face flashed before my eyes like a solar flare, followed by sharp slash across my throat. I growled, grabbing my head as pain sliced through my skull. Memories. Memories always did this.

It was easier not to remember. It was easier to be alone and prepare for the revenge I’d one day seek…

Soft hands landed on my back, and I flinched away with a growl. The hands were insistent, soothing, blanketing the fire raging in my blood. The pain ebbed and I slumped forward on my hands and knees.

Something tugged me onto the furs, and I came willingly. I allowed my body to be arranged and my head to land on a softness. Exhaling, I opened my eyes in the near darkness.

Fingers sifted through my hair, and a rumble in my ear calmed me. My female, Merr-anda—she was talking. My ear rested on her breast as she spoke words in a lilting way I’d never heard before. The sounds drifted up and down, high pitch to low, and I was mesmerized by the sound.

I lifted my head to see her eyes half-closed, her full lips stretching and contracting to form the strange syllables and words. For once, I was glad I couldn’t speak, because I wouldn’t have been able to describe the beautiful sounds.

Finally, she stopped, and smiled at me. “Sengeng,” she said.

I liked this sengeng. I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t work, so I settled for placing her hand at my throat so she could feel the only sound I was able to make, a rumbling vibration I’d never had an urge to utter before. It’d been instinct to do it when she was in distress, and since it helped, I vowed to do it as often as I could.

She kept smiling, and I laid down once again on her chest, listening to her cora beat strong and steady against my ear.

Miranda

He was a cuddler. Or something. I couldn’t believe it. He had all the instincts of a Drixonian warrior, but he didn’t seem to understand why. He cared for me, yet he was wary.

He’d slept on me all night with his head on one breast and his palm curled possessively around my other one. His tail rested over my legs and looped around my hip. If he was literally anyone else, I would have kneed him in the balls for taking such liberties, but this was … not bad. Sort of nice. He cradled my breast delicately. What was this silent alien doing to me? I should have been shoving the big lug off me.

About seventy-percent of my body was numb from his weight, but I was loathe to wake him, even though I was hungry, had to pee, and now the sun was up, I felt like I was in a sauna. But no, I didn’t move, because I felt bad waking him up.

When had I ever felt bad waking up anyone?

Never.

I thought most Drixonians slept half-awake and alert, but this one was like a rock on my chest, snoozing away. It would have been kind of cute if he wasn’t a half-Neanderthal living in a tree who didn’t talk. Our only communication relied on reading each other’s auras, and he seemed to be alarmed every time I had a sudden one.

I’d decided to call him Heart because that was what he was to me—all heart. Cheesy, but seeing as he either didn’t have a name or refused to tell it to me, that was what I was going with. He was like Mowgli and I kept expecting a pack of wolves or monkeys to come out of the trees and claim him as family.

His reaction last night when I’d said ‘qua’ had been startling. One of my uncles served in