But what hewantedwas a companion.
That was why we’d been so at odds with each other, neither of us understanding what the other was trying to achieve. That was why he hadn’t bought clothes for me before I’d arrived. He didn’t just want me to wear appropriate clothing. He wanted to go shoppingwith me. That was why he kept asking what type of food I wanted, or what channel I wanted to watch. He didn’t necessarily want my opinion; he wanted conversation. He wanted someone to talk to, to share ideas with, to make the world a richer and more interesting place.
I’d been trained as a combat specialist, but I was entirely familiar with the role of a domestic companion. A domesticservantwas trained to run a household, to keep things clean and raise children and keep the bills in order. But a domesticcompanionwas trained to attend social occasions, to spark interesting conversation about current events, to understand fashion and to enjoy high class meals in fancy restaurants. It was certainly not what I had been trained to do. But I fully understood the desire in my master to have someone to do those things with.
I supposed that his decision made sense. If it was a choice between being killed, or having a talented partner to attend parties with, then combat specialist would win out every time.
But I was adaptable. I could learn. I could improvise.
I’d wondered if I was overstepping the mark when I’d removed his shoes and offered him clothes to wear. A domestic servant would never be so bold. But acompanioncould get away with such things, offering suggestions and gently prodding their master into motion.
I could have easily mistaken my master’s actions in bed for lust, or a sign that he approved of my new attempts to please him. But I was smarter than that. This was an outpouring of grief, or perhaps a startled realisation that he was still alive, when he could have died so easily. That was why he’d taken me to the funeral. He needed me to comfort him. He needed to lose himself, and I was the vehicle through which he could do that.
“Fuck… Kade…” His voice was a strangled moan, and his hand gripped my ass, lifting me so he could thrust more deeply. I understood now. I could be what he needed, and what he wanted, at the same time.
I cradled his head as his body shuddered, his climax spilling inside me as he groaned into my shoulder. “Fuck… Oh, god,” he muttered, and I was learning that he tended to curse a lot when he climaxed. He went still, his hot breath puffing out damp against my scales.
Once he’d caught his breath a little, he lifted up, reaching between us to grasp my cock…only to pull back in surprise as he felt the sticky wetness already smeared on my belly. He looked me in the eye for the first time since he’d entered me. “You’ve, um… You’ve already…”
He’d said I could come when I wanted to, and I’d taken that permission at face value. And to be honest, he seemed surprised, but not upset that I’d already climaxed. “You’re very good at that,” I said, and he laughed unexpectedly.
“This time around, I think I was pretty terrible,” he said, pulling carefully out of me. “Too up in my own head to take care of you properly.” He eyed the mess again, clear evidence that contradicted his words. “But we can work on that,” he said with a shrug, flopping down beside me.
I got up, retreating to the bathroom to clean myself up – he’d said before that he didn’t like messy sheets – then I returned to the bed. This time, I didn’t fret that I was wasting the afternoon by lounging about. I now understood that this was where my master wanted me; cuddling, stroking, making him feel warm and cosy, rather than dashing about the house making sure everything was clean.
It was going to be an adjustment, figuring out all the nuances of when he wanted my company and when he wanted to be left alone to work. But I was up for the challenge. I was smart. I was adaptable. This time, I was certain, everything was going to be fine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Aiden
It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that I was completely shocked by the transformation in Kade after the funeral. He was less fretful, doing his household chores, but not constantly needing to find more things to do once he’d finished. He took more initiative in planning his own day, declaring at one point that he was going to the gym, and asking if I wanted to join him. I hadn’t worked out in a few days, too caught up in organising things for Kade and for the funeral, so I said yes.
Kade found a few recipes on the grid and asked for my advice on which might be the more appropriate one to cook. He asked if there was anything in particular he should be reading, to prepare for entry into the Alliance Military, so I sent him a few documents and watched him surreptitiously as he read them, the subtle play of emotions over his face as various details caught his attention.
I dared to ask him what he wanted to eat for lunch on Sunday, wondering if his change in attitude had just been a fluke. He suggested he make us both an omelette, to which I’d readily agreed.
What I hadn’t quite worked out, though, was what had brought about this sudden change. Was it something Bryce had said to him? Was it the fact that we’d had sex? Was that a particular milestone for a dimari? Or was there once again something else going on, something too subtle or abstract for me to be aware of it, that meant we’d finally settled into a peaceful rhythm?
And more to the point, was this what happiness looked like for a dimari? I was quick to praise him when he did his work well, clearly refused his suggestions when I disagreed with him, and made sure I explained what our plans were going to be for the next couple of weeks. On Monday, we would head back to the base, where Kade would go through some training and assessment – assuming that Henderson had cleared his admissionrequest – and then, all going well, we would be assigned a couple of missions to fill out the rest of the two week rotation.
So was this it? Had I achieved my goal of making my dimari happy? Maybe so… but if that was the case, then I’d somehow failed to catch the details of how I’d done it. And that meant I had no idea how to replicate that experience for other dimari owners.
On Sunday night, the first quarter-final of the Water Relay was playing on the sports channel, and I made sure that we’d finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen before the Relay started. “Come and sit down,” I said to Kade, settling myself on the sofa in front of the wall screen and patting the spot next to me. “Have you seen any news about the Relays? Do you know what this is?” I indicated the screen, where the two teams were setting up for the competition.
He came and sat, curling his legs up underneath him, and peered at the screen. “No, I don’t,” he said, in the sort of tone that said he was curious, but confused.
“The Relays are the major sporting events on Rendol 4. They have different ones at different times of year. It started about fifty years ago with what’s now called the Field Relay. There are about twenty different teams, and each round is between two teams. The goal is to cross a number of obstacles in order to get to the flag at the end of the course. The first team to grab the flag wins. For the Field Relay, it’s relatively straight forward stuff; climb a wall, swing over a canyon, cross a bridge, that sort of thing. But it’s never set up to be simple. Like, crossing a bridge is never just a bridge. It’s a bridge in high wind, or a bridge with half the planks missing. They’ve all got safety harnesses on, so no one can fall off and die, but if you lean your full weight into the harness, an alarm goes off and the team has to reset back to the end of the last challenge they completed.
“This one is the Water Relay. Which is exactly what it sounds like; a bunch of obstacles over or in water. The teams are given a bunch of equipment that they can use to get across, but the catch is that they have to carry the equipment with them over the obstacles, if they want to use it later in the course.
“The fun thing is that the whole team doesn’t necessarily have to get to the end. They only need one team member to grab the flag. But it’s always designed so that one person can’t complete the course on their own. It’s this weird combination of strategy and teamwork and just chaotic fun.”
Kade chuckled at that last description. “Sounds intriguing,” he said, snuggling into the corner of the sofa. “Which team are you going for?”
“Get over here,” I said, crooking my finger at him. He shifted closer, then closer still, finally ending up curled against my side, rather than at the other end of the sofa. It had taken me a shockingly short time to get used to cuddling with him. “I’m going for the Rogue Wave. See the Denzogalwith the white fur? He is absolutely brilliant. He comes up with these completely off the wall plans, and more than half the time, they actually work.”
For the next two hours, we sat and cheered, or yelled at the screen, with Kade occasionally asking for clarification about what a particular team had done to earn a penalty, or what the rules were on a particular challenge. At one point, he sat up and firmly declared, “That’s never going to work.” He watched with rapt attention as the team attempting to drag a small raft across a rushing river got halfway there… then three quarters… and then the raft suddenly upended itself, tossing the entire team into the water. He sat back in a fit of giggles as the Derelian in the team dragged himself out of the water, sopping wet and looking like a drowned rat.
