aware of this too, because she reaches up, pats his jaw, and murmurs, “Feel better now?”
“Much,” Arokh confirms. Then he turns a very direct stare on me.
“I’m just gonna…” Angie starts, darting a look between us, “...go.” She breaks Arokh’s staredown that he’s locked me in by catching her mate’s face and pulling it down so that she can kiss it. It’s a short kiss, but when she turns to leave, his stare is all for her, and I think I’ve lost my opportunity to speak with him at all until Angie laughs and orders him to let her get back to work.
Work. Dubiously, I eye her belly, because it’s grown heavy with Arokh’s pups. Very soon she, like Gracie, needs to retire until after she’s safely delivered.
I save that argument for another time and get directly to the point when Arokh’s eyes finally shift from his mate’s swaying waddle to my face. “In the early days of your pursuit, how did you court your human mate?”
Arokh grimaces slightly, and his jaw hardens at some memory. “Well, at first, she was terrified of me. All humans fear us.”
Smoke puffs out of both of my nostrils. My ears lower. “Krortuvian dung they are.”
Arokh eyes me, measuring me for his answer. “Ask them. It’s true. And may I say that you’ve done well to foster more fear in them?”
I exhale a gust of flames, fighting my sense of discouragement—because in regards to my efforts to cause humans to have respect (yes, yes, fear)… Arokh is right. And not for any of the humans do I regret terrorizing them—save for one. I don’t want Isla to fear me. “I don’t think my female fears me.”
Another voice cuts in. “Not all humans have fear of us. My mate didn’t initially fear me.”
I turn to find Brax, a Rakhii in a relationship that’s truly shocking. He’s mated to a human who is mated to a Wanbaroo—another species of alien—and this male and Brax share his mate.
I would have killed her Wanbaroo.
I will not share Isla with anyone.
Isla is for me.
“What do you mean by ‘initially?’” Arokh questions.
Brax licks his fangs. “When I made it clear that I was pursuing Tara as my mate,” he smiles ruefully, “that’s when she became wary and tried to avoid me.”
Dismay strikes me at his words.
Brax gives an easy tip of his horns. “Just sing to them. Humans may not reciprocate the bonding the same way as a Rakhii female does, but they feel drawn to their male. With coaxing, mine came back to me.”
Arokh’s chest rises proudly. “Ah. Song.” He nods. “Angie was impressed with my voice when I sang to her.” His gaze moves back to mine, satisfied. “It seems human females are just as susceptible to our songs as Rakhii females.”
For him, the matter is solved. Unfortunately, this advice is probably only true if you are gifted at the pulsed calls unique to Rakhii. I can attempt singing if it means I have a chance at enticing Isla, but my hopes on this tactic’s effectiveness are dismal.
A grumbling sigh comes from our right, and we turn to find Hotahn. He’s a Rakhii mated to a human female that everyone calls Doc, but I believe Hotahn has a private name for her. Not Gem for gemstone, which is what I thought I was hearing him call her at first, but Jen, I think. Whatever that means in human.
“Amateurs,” Hotahn declares. He looks me in the eye. “If you desire a female, just take her. She’ll warm to you.”
With all the worst timing, a hob chooses that moment to stroll by us—and at Hotahn’s words, the hob skids to a stop.
I growl at him. “Ignore what you’ve heard.” To the others, I declare, “I appreciate this advice.”
Rather than preserving his lifespan by assuring me of his intention to keep silent and go about his way, the hob stays where he’s standing, and even raises a cautious hand in the air.
Although, this hob is always cautious. Jonohkada. Shadow to Gracie, amateur medical technician to Isla—and currently a flea in the ointment of my plans. “Do you want your hand broken? Put it down.”
Jonohkada cringes a beat, his wings tightening to his back before he swallows, struggling to marshal his courage. Apparently, he manages to gather enough, because he straightens an increment taller and states, “You cannot abduct Isla.”
I stare down at him, considering the problem he presents. And he is a problem, because if he’s going to be reluctant to