Mari's Mistake - Ruby Dixon Page 0,8

at the fact that I asked.

"Great," I say softly. I’m not sure what the answer was, but whatever. I chew on my lip, looking around. "What do we do now?" I have no idea how to proceed. What does one do when you resonate to an absolute stranger with whom you don't even have a language in common? I have so many questions and zero answers, and I'm worried about Lauren. She can handle herself, but…this new planet is challenging to anyone, no matter how capable they are.

T'chai reaches for my face, and when I flinch backward, he pulls back, too. We look at each other warily. "M'rsl," he murmurs, and hesitantly reaches for me again.

I let him touch my cheek, and he brushes his fingertips over my face, his expression fascinated. His fingers are light but callused, and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. I haven't dated in forever, and my last boyfriend wasn't very touchy-feely. I've forgotten how good it feels to have someone caress you. Maybe it's the cootie affecting me, but…it feels really good and I don't want him to stop.

I shiver as his fingers move down my jaw, caressing. He murmurs my name in that weird, abbreviated way of his, but I like the way it sounds and I don't correct him. He's trying. His hand falls away and I open my eyes—

—only to gasp in shock. He's no longer blue. The pale blue of his skin has changed to a rich golden tan. I reach out to touch him, his eyes bright in his face, and his skin feels the same? It's different only in shade, and when I brush my fingers over his cheek, I realize we're the exact same color. Somehow, his skin tone has changed to match mine.

"Wow," I whisper. "Is this part of resonance? Or is it something else?"

"M'rsl," my new mate says. He taps a finger against my breastbone, where my khui is thrumming hard. Then, he murmurs something and points at my belly. When he gestures at his mouth, I realize he's asking if I'm hungry.

I nod. "Really hungry."

He brushes his fingers over my cheek again, as if he can't stop himself from touching me, and gets to his feet. I see a dead fish hanging from a hook on the wall, a cord strung through one of the gills, and…surely not. I know the tribes eat a lot of food that they catch, but it's still a shock to me every time I see it. I grew up with packaged food and the closest I've ever come to this sort of “realism” is when my mother made beef tongue tacos and would buy a huge, sloppy-looking tongue from the grocery store.

"This is just sushi," I tell myself in a mini-pep talk as T'chai sits down across from me. He crosses his legs and picks up a knife and a woven bowl and begins to gut the fish. He cuts off the head and tosses it into the basket, and as I wrinkle my nose and watch, he carefully cuts a finger-length bit of fresh meat off of the fish and holds it out to me.

Oh boy. Sushi, I remind myself, and take a delicate bite of the pinkish flesh. It's…surprisingly delicious. I must show my astonishment, because he chuckles and slices another tiny bit off, holding it out to me. He watches me closely as I chew, and I eat every piece he gives me, and when he holds out the very last bite, I realize he's taken none for himself. I suspect I've eaten his lunch, and although he'd probably never say so, I feel guilty. I shake my head and gesture that he should eat it.

T'chai eats the bite of beach-sushi quickly, and then reaches into the basket and grabs the fish head, popping it into his mouth. He crunches down, and the sound is loud and wet in the hut.

"Ugh," I say, unable to help myself. "That is horrifying!"

He grimaces and points at his mouth, mumbling something and nodding, as if he's agreeing with me that yes, it tastes terrible. T'chai makes a face and then drinks a swig of water, shuddering.

"You're seriously weird, amigo." I watch him, brows furrowed. Maybe it's another sort of alien custom I don't understand, like you eat the head of the fish to thank it for its service or something weird like that.

My gaze falls back on his big, naked body, and he's so…golden. I reach out