The Alien's Revenge - Ella Maven Page 0,27

was ridiculous. I knew it was, but that didn’t seem to stop me from stripping him out of his worn pants every chance I could get.

So, I let myself make believe this was my new life. As much as I wanted to get back to my girls, I also couldn’t pull myself away from what felt like a weird fairytale.

We couldn’t even talk to each other, but our auras let us know what the other was feeling, which took away my perpetual skepticism of the male species. On Earth, I had always second-guessed what a man told me, worried he was lying, but Drak didn’t lie. It had nothing to do with the fact he couldn’t speak—he was just so damn honest about his actions. His aura always matched his posture. If he was angry or frustrated, he’d make short, quick movements with flared nostrils and eyes black as night. If he was happy, his eyes swirled a light violet. And if he was horny… Well, the tell-tale bulge was hard to miss.

I’d been so determined not to be tied to a mate, but my Drak was special. He was kind and gentle and never once made me feel like a burden to his solitary way of life. I ached to know his history. The Drixonians were a pack race—I’d been told many times being alone was a death sentence to them. How long had Drak been on his own?

One evening, as the sun set, we sat at the hot spring, me on a rock and Drak with his back to me, wide shoulders between my legs. His eyes were closed as he rested the back of his head on my chest. It was rare his big body remained still for any length of time, but I knew from experience he was listening to every sound around us in case of predators. And now I was too.

I could walk without a cane now, and I’d even jogged a short distance. I’d told myself tomorrow I’d need to communicate with Drak we had to take a little trip. I couldn’t let my girls think I was dead, and Drak should be with other warriors. But I worried about him—would he acclimate to a clavas? What about his flashbacks? I felt caught between my loyalty to Drak and my love for my girls. The problem was, I had no idea how to get back to the Night Kings. I just knew I had to try.

I hadn’t been able to eat much that day, my mind constantly spinning different scenarios so my anxiety had ratcheted up to insane levels. Drak noticed, of course he did, which was why he’d brought me to the hot spring. Other than the roof, this was my favorite place.

We’d just finished some fresh antella, and a little of the greasy fat remained. For the last few days, I’d been massaging this throat scar. I couldn’t tell if he didn’t talk because of the thick ridge of skin or if there was damage to his vocal cords. He could utter his name and make that purring sound, so he had some ability. The first time I touched some grease to his scar, he’d jerked away from my touch with wide panicked eyes. So, I’d sang and pulled him back against me. Trembling, he let me work the lubricant into the damaged skin.

Now, when I massaged the scar, he stretched his neck back further, giving me full access. His full lips parted, and his cheeks darkened with an aroused flush. This always happened too, the horny bastard.

I didn’t know if oiling the skin would do a damn thing, but I was willing to try. Not that I needed Drak to talk, but I did get the sense it frustrated him. He often moved his lips, and it took me a while to realize he was mouthing my name. My heart had skipped a few beats over that.

My mind was still on my girls, especially the pregnant ones—Val, Frankie, and Reba. I ached to see them, and I knew they were worried about me. We were a tight group, bonded by being forced into an unfathomable situation.

And Gar … he’d already lost his sister. Knowing him, he would have taken my disappearance personally. I let my hands fall away from Drak’s neck and wiped the remnants of the grease on the grass near us. Tears pricked my eyes. I’d already lost one family. I couldn’t lose my girls too.

Drak

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