the Vietnam War, and Heart’s episode had been so reminiscent of my uncle’s flashbacks caused by PTSD. His reaction killed me and even though I knew the risks of touching him, I couldn’t help it. He’d been so … wounded.
My aunt would always sing to my uncle, so that was the first thing I thought of to soothe him and bring him back with my voice. I hadn’t sung anything important really—just “Lean on Me.” But he’d settled almost immediately, and when he’d placed my hand on his throat, I’d nearly cried.
I felt oddly protective of him. Not in a physical way, since he was obviously the most capable between us, even if my leg had been healed, but in an emotional way. He wasn’t … okay. I got that from his aura and from the way he huddled in on himself. He was a massive guy, yet he rarely stood up straight and proud.
I had so many questions—how did he get his scar? Why couldn’t he talk? Why was he alone and living in a damned tree?
I ran my hands over the scales on his upper back, marveling at the texture of them, almost like velour-coated steel. As close as I’d been to many Drixonians, I didn’t touch them often. Most of the ones I interacted with on a daily basis were taken, and the other ones—well I didn’t want them to get ideas I was on the market.
I supposed I was off the market now. I lifted my wrist to marvel at the marks. They were in a swirly pattern, and they almost reminded me of flowers. I had to admit, they looked badass on my skin tone. But still, I hadn’t wanted these. I hadn’t wanted to leave my big, annoying, lovable family on Earth either, but that was what had happened when I went to bed one night and woke up on a damn spaceship.
I’d sort of come to terms with the fact I wouldn’t see Earth or my family again. Sometimes the grief still hit me at odd times, and I’d wake to break down when I was alone in bed. I wanted to be strong for the women here and lead by example. It was what I’d done all my life, and old habits were hard to break.
I shifted my weight and Heart instantly came awake with a jerk. He shot up on his hands and glanced around before his wild black eyes fell to me. I remained still, wary of his reaction at being woken, but he blinked lazily before his expression lost some of the startled harshness.
That was when I felt it—a hard rod poking into my leg. Because of course aliens got morning wood too. But Heart seemed confused. His hips thrust a couple of times before his nostrils flared and he jerked away from me, his aura cowering like he was ashamed.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said.
But he didn’t want to hear it. He turned away from me, his giant shoulders heaving, before he immediately retreated to a woven basket in the corner where he kept his food. There he worked with his back to me, and I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed. I knew a little about Drixonian history. If Heart was like the rest of them, he’d been a child when the females of his species had died from the virus. After that, their libidos had gone dormant. Most had never had an orgasm, or even been hard.
Heart, for all I knew, might not even understand sex or what his body was doing. But I let him have his dignity. I was sort of flattered I’d made him hard. Then I rolled my eyes at myself. Seriously, Miranda? I was most likely the only female he’d ever seen in his adult life.
After preparing a wooden slab of food, he brought it to me with more qua. I had to pee, but I held it in and dutifully ate my food. It wasn’t anything special, but it was food, and I’d long since learned to take what I could get and not complain. My niece had taught me a saying she learned in kindergarten: You get what you get, and you don’t get upset. So that was my mantra. I was alive. I was okay.
Afterward, Heart poked at my mud cast and then gently pulled me to my feet. I swayed on one foot, but he held me steady. For a moment, he regarded