for disdain of his cross-species pup. Zadeon’s gaze, already sharp, turns deadly.
I suppose I haven’t given anyone the impression that I hold warm thoughts towards any human (unless, by ‘warm,’ I’m lighting them on fire), let alone the get of one. But the male is dead wrong in his assumption. I was seeing his half-human son, and I was thinking… I was thinking if Isla had one of these by me, perhaps she would always want me to stay with her. Mercenary thoughts perhaps, but I need an iron-clad guarantee that Isla and I remain lifemates if we join.
Zadeon’s hand moves to cup the fragile, thin neck that holds up the tiny little head of his boy. It’s clearly a protective gesture, and I lower my horns to show him that I saw it—that I heed it.
Not one to let a threat lie in silence, Zadeon appears in front of me to deliver his message. “If I catch you looking at my pup again—”
“How did you court your mate?”
Prepared for me to disparage his interspecies offspring, not ask him how he secured the female that gave him his young, he takes a protracted moment to digest my query. During this, his jaw stays clenched. He snaps his ears. His fierce eyes stay locked on mine.
I don’t let my gaze waver.
Finally, he answers, “I suppose I did not court her.”
Finding this answer very interesting—and by that, I mean promising, I ask, “Then how did you win her?”
“I didn’t leave her side.”
I consider this. I could shadow Isla. For now, she seems amenable, but the first blush of attraction is always strong. When she invariably loses interest, I could pursue her to the point of exhausting any reservations that she has. The idea would have merit, except I have tried this once before; with another female, in another time, in what feels as if it took place in a whole other lifespan—and the results were a spectacular failure.
However, that was a Gryfala. Not a human.
Perhaps humans respond well to an unbreakable claim simply being staked on them. Give them no choice. I like this idea. It has merit. Gryfala tend to label this sort of Rakhii mating behavior as ‘relentless stalking.’
They view it unfavorably.
Zadeon is silent while I process his statement, his gaze seemingly on his son, whom he reassures by brushing the side of his thumb over the pup’s very-bare scaled head (not a quill on the boy’s head, nor hair like a human, very plain, very strange—but still terribly fetching in that way all young tend to be). But I know that Zadeon is watching me, his eyes on me or not.
My spines flick and I cross my arms over my chest, thinking of Isla, wondering if she would accept me if I simply refused to let her accept anyone else.
Zadeon’s gaze is direct but no longer challenging. “If you are seeking advice, Mitteeku may be helpful to speak to.”
Mitteeku, a Rakhii who spends much of his time with his mate and human younglings in the fields, but occasionally he brings his family to view the goings-on in the quarry. Their youngest pup is the most interesting. He may be human, but he has a fine growl, and he uses it when he encounters strangers.
Now that is an example of a Rakhii raising younglings right.
“You could also ask my brother,” Zadeon offers, surprising me.
“Which one?” I ask. Like most Rakhii, Zadeon is one male out of a healthy octet. Litters nearing a dozen pups are common, but if humans continue to hybridize with our species, large litters could become a thing of the past. Humans are unique, spawning much smaller numbers by comparison than most species of space vermin.
Zadeon points to another male, Arokh, whom I don’t know as well. I’ve known of Zadeon because of his fame among our people; he was a gladiator of renown. I know of Arokh only because he arrived here, in my quarry, and I make it a point to know who works for me.
I thank Zadeon—and pause long enough to nod to his son, who watches me with silent, too-solemn eyes. Then I head for Zadeon’s littermate.
Arokh is holding his female, Angie. At my approach, his arms tighten around her and he begins scent-marking her right in front of me—right in front of everyone.
He licks and rubs his marking points on her until she’s red-faced, and he’s satisfied. I don’t doubt his excessively public display is due to my presence.