Well now—that caught me off guard.
“My love, am I that bad at showing how much I love you, that you’d even question it? Ileana was the spark that lit the fuse for my emancipation two years ago. My past activities and association with Bully were getting harder and harder to justify morally. She’s the one who put her finger on my mental scars and gave me the push I needed to stop. That’s all. My love, my stunning Neela, I’m crazy about you. I can’t imagine living without you. Haven’t you noticed I’ve been marking you again and again during our lovemaking? You know, those little licks just below your ears… I’ve claimed you as my mate for a while now. Please don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt us.”
A bright smile lights up her face and her dark eyes sparkle.
“So you really love me?”
“How can you even ask that? If you want me, we’ll live wherever you choose. We can go with the Admiral and explore the galaxy, like Pherebos, Ileana, and Wingo do. Or we can stay here, in this evolving colony… with your insufferable brother.”
“You love Kiran,” she teases.
“Sure, but don’t you dare tell him that.”
“Don’t worry—I won’t. He’d never admit it either. But… won’t you miss the interstellar travel?”
“I love running on rough terrain, leaping over rocks and alien plants. That’s who I am. Believe me, I’ll miss that more than flying through space. And anyway, Akifumi approved keeping the traffickers’ ships on Mars. They’ll be refitted and repurposed for fast travel between Cydonia and Arabia Terra. I could apply to pilot them. Maybe even train Kiran to do it. We’re not gonna be short on projects in the coming months.”
“Are you going to accept the administrator position the Admiral offered you?” she asks.
“We have time to think it over—to talk with the people here. I believe decisions like that should be made together.”
“So… you’re staying?” she asks, eyes full of hope.
“Then we’re staying,” I confirm, putting an end to the discussion.
I flip her onto the couch, grab her wrists and pin them gently above her head, then dive in for that mouth I’ve been craving like air. I kiss her like a starving man at a buffet, and luckily for me, she seems just as famished. Her lips answer mine with the same raw hunger, and in no time, we’re lost in a whirlwind of fiery sparks that ripple across our bodies with delicious impatience.
Clothes vanish. I have no idea how. Whatever the case, in the blink of an eye, we’re both naked and tangled up like two heat-seeking vines. Forget the bed—we’ll deal with that later. Much later. Right now, there’s only one thing looping in my brain : I need to make absolutely sure she never, ever doubts how much I love her.
And how do you make that point crystal clear when you’re a feline hybrid with enhanced reflexes, a whole lot of pent-up longing, and a ridiculous amount of fur in questionable places?
Easy. You worship her like the goddess she is.
I trail kisses down her throat, take my time exploring the graceful curves of her body with the reverence of an old-school cartographer mapping out sacred territory. Her skin reacts to every touch, every brush of my whiskers, every rumble of my chest as I purr against her belly. Yes, I purr. You’d be surprised how effective that is in the right places.
She gasps, arches under me, wraps her legs around my waist, and I can’t tell if it’s her heartbeat or mine hammering loudest in the room. We move in sync, a rhythm that’s ours alone—urgent, sweet, powerful, tender. I whisper things into her neck that would make even a seasoned space pirate blush, and she answers with nails in my back and fire in her eyes.
When the wave finally crashes over us, it’s not just pleasure. It’s relief. It’s home. It’s a full-body, full-soul reminder of everything I almost lost—and everything I never want to let go of again.
I collapse beside her, breathless, sweaty, completely undone.
Mars, huh?
Yeah. Staying here won’t be a problem for me.
Epilogue
I only re-roll two of my five dice. The three already on the game board are all showing threes.
After much grumbling about the unfair advantage of using Polar dice, my opponent finally convinced me to switch to standard Terran dice—marked with Arabic numerals. If he thinks the origin of the dice is going to change the outcome, he’s in for a rude awakening.
The two little ten-sided dice roll across the board and come to a stop. One of them lands on a three—Wuku confirmed!
“Ugh, this is impossible! You're cheating, Furball!” my brother-in-law accuses me, completely unfairly.
“Stop being such a sore loser, Human. Neela doesn’t like it.”
“Leave my sister out of this! You're cheating, plain and simple. There’s no other explanation! I’m done playing with you.”
