Gravity (Dark Anomaly #1) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,78
by the gaze she gave him—her dark eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a bird he’d only ever seen in videos—she knew what she’d said, and she meant it.
“I love you, too.” He gathered her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.
She sank her fingers into the fur on the back of his neck, stroking down his spine. The pleasure of her touch flooded his groin with heat. It happened so much more often than it used to before her.
Nuzzling the side of her neck, he nibbled on her skin.
“What took you so long? It’s way past dinnertime,” she murmured. “I was starting to worry.”
Every now and then, he still forgot about dinner, getting caught in one of the many tasks that needed to be done in order to keep life on the Dark Anomaly going.
“Sorry, I lost track of time. How are the gardens?”
“Good. The flour we made from the laahon grain worked out amazingly well.”
The only reward for saving Vrateus from the poison that Malahki had asked for was to spend more time with Svetlana. The request puzzled Vrateus, but Malahki had explained he needed someone knowledgeable and trustworthy to help with gardening.
Svetlana had readily agreed to that, eager to learn more about plant life on the Dark Anomaly. Vrateus had spent several days with them until he was completely satisfied he could trust the damirian to protect Svetlana. He felt comfortable leaving them alone for a couple of hours a day.
Besides the gardening, Svetlana had also taken over meal preparation on the Anomaly, under the condition that no one except for Vrateus or Malahki would be allowed to enter the kitchen.
Taking these two tasks completely off his shoulders and helping him with many others, she’d considerably lightened his workload. Now, he even had some free time, which he always preferred to spend with her.
“Hungry?” she leaned back, smiling. “I made pizza for dinner.” Delight sparkled in her dark eyes.
“Pizza?” he asked, confused. He wished to share in her excitement, but the translator failed to deliver a word he’d understand.
Svetlana had been gathering various bark, seeds, and roots from the garden. She then used them as ingredients while cooking different dishes and experimenting with flavors.
“Look!” She proudly gestured at the low table she had set with pretty dishes he had collected from various storage rooms for her.
A bunch of large, bright flowers stood in a jewel-encrusted carafe. Berry wine glistened blood-red in two crystal goblets.
“I have been playing with this recipe for a week now, testing different ingredients from the kitchen and the garden.” Svetlana pointed at the flat disk of dough covered with black melted goo that suspiciously reminded him of tar. “It’s a bit scary-looking,” she admitted, with a slight frown. “But it tastes just like a real pizza from back home, I swear.”
He must have been staring at the offensive disk a little too long, since she shifted uneasily. “If you don’t like it, I have some stew from the kitchen, too.
“No. I’ll try it.” He drew some air in through his nostrils. “It smells delicious.”
After a lifetime of eating some variation of the same dish, trying all her cooking experiments felt exciting. Even if they turned out truly inedible sometimes.
“Let’s have some pizza.” He took her in his arms again. “Just right after I do this.”
He lowered his mouth to hers.
A rush of familiar calm and pleasure descended upon him as he kissed her.
“Just like coming home.”
“HEY, CAPTAIN! THERE’S another crash!” Valmo panted, out of breath and choking with excitement. “Nocc and Wyck are fighting over the female. And they’re not following the rules!”
Immediately, Vrateus thought of Svetlana being the female in question. Wrath and terror flooded him, making his heart skip a beat.
He had left her in the gardens with Malahki just a little while ago. Had something happened he’d not accounted for?
“Where are they?” He dashed out of the storage room, leaving Enkail to service the spacesuits on his own.
“On the very edge of the habitable segment, past the gardens.” Valmo was running slightly behind him, struggling to catch up.
The main corridor seemed endless as Vrateus rushed from one end of it to the other. His heart burned with worry, threatening to burst out of his chest.
“Malahki!” He yelled into the entrance of the gardens as he passed by. The damirian was nowhere to be seen, which only intensified his panic.
He rushed further.
Around the last bend in the corridor, he nearly tripped over the cutting tool left on the floor.