Aloryk is still carrying me back to the hut and talking in his low, rumbly voice. I’m not listening, though, and I can’t stop thinking about how calm Delphi seems. Sure, it’s not right after she’s been woken up from the pod, and they’ve had days in the jungle to acclimatize to what’s happened to them, but most of the other women have chosen ‘freight’, understandably, and Delphi’s already asked for a guided tour like she’s on vacay or something.
Hell, it had taken me a good few days just to accept that this was all real and not in my head.
Why is she handling this so well?
Why does she still look so good even in the depths of a hostile alien jungle?
Why did she look like she belonged in Aloryk’s arms when he went to go help her?
Urgh, sometimes I want to scream at myself for the way I always compare us. Dad chose Delphi, and her mom, not me and mine. It doesn’t mean anything -it doesn’t. Occasionally, I try to look at it with cold, unfeeling logic. It was just a numbers game to him. Delphi has a brother, Jayden. My dad could have just thought why ruin two kid’s childhoods when you can only ruin one?
I find myself leaning into Aloryk’s chest, staring blindly at nothing at all while he carries me. Without even realizing it, I begin to stroke the place on his skin where those heart-stars are going to light up for me.
Only for me.
If humans had something similar to heart-stars, I think everything would be so much simpler. If my dad’s had sparked for my mom, he wouldn’t have strayed. Or if they had sparked for Delphi’s mom, we would have known straight away andhe wouldn’t have been able to string us along playing happy families for so long. I even think mom would have understood and let him go without animosity. How can you argue with soul mates?
I look up to Aloryk as he strides forward talking about… I don’t know, something about a surprise. I feel like I’ve had enough surprises today, to be honest. But as I watch him, a lump forms in the back of my throat. He’s so handsome, and kind, and protective. He’s carrying my big ass around without breaking a sweat - like it’s nothing at all. Could I let him go without argument if it turns out he’s not meant to be mine?
The thought has my heart thudding a few painful beats, so I turn my face into my man’s chest and press a kiss there, watching the skin-stars come alive and rush to fuss around the area I’d touched with my lips. If only they’d stay there, and spread, glowing bright for everyone to see that he’s mine and I’m his. It’s not until I look up at Aloryk that I realize he’s stopped walking.
His brows are knitted as he looks down at me, but they smooth with a soft smile. “How do I earn more of those, little female?” he asks.
I feel a bit lighter inside when I look at his smile. Delphi is here and she doesn’t even recognize me. So what? That doesn’t matter. Aloryk matters. I snuggle up to his chest and sigh. “Just keep being you,” I tell him, listening to the way his purr revs up, just for me.
“Who else would I be?” he scoffs. “I am Aloryk, Protector, and Polly’s mate. And I will be this until the last breath leaves my body. I can be no one else. Even when I am a star in the Promised Lands. I will be that star that streaks across the dark, looking for my Polly’s star to protect her.”
I can feel a huge smile on my face at that. “You will, huh?”
Aloryk’s huge arms squeeze me just a little. “Yes. We will play your‘finders-keepers’for as long as existence lasts.”
For as long as existence lasts.
That’s a real long time.
My insides feel all warm from the very matter-of-fact way Aloryk had described the way of things to me. It’s like he’d just been reeling off casual plans for the day and not declaring that he’d never leave me,ever.
As he steps into the shade of the hut, I feel kind of sad now he has to actually put me down. I find I like being carried around like a princess if it’s by him.
“Would you like your surprise now?” he asks, already opening one of his trunks.
“Surprise?”
Before I can feel too bad for how he’s probably been talking about this all the time he carried me here and I’ve just shut it all out, he turns, an excited and hopeful look on his handsome features. Little skin-stars zoom all over the place as he uncurls his giant hands to reveal two small clay pots with ill-fitting lids. They’re decorated with glimmering chips of those glowing opals the Trixikka collect and although the ceramics are crudely made, they’re beautiful.
“Did you make those for me?” I ask, stepping forward, tucking my wet hair behind my ears so as not to obstruct my view.
“No,” he says, smiling as he lifts the lid on one pot. “Inside is the stain made from ashes and a mixture of different tree saps. The Elders use it to do their wall etchings or to decorate some other items.” I dip my head to peer inside. There’s a thick, ink-black substance inside. “I noticed the Elder at the meeting with the High Spear had fingertips stained with this from all his work up in the Mother Caves and I thought…” Aloryk’s skin-stars start burning and whirling over the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Iasked how long the stain lasts and was told it should remain on skin for many moons, and I thought of your love of skin-etchings.”
My eyes flick up to his. “You think I could use this like tattoo ink?” It would be more like henna, I guess, since there’s no way of getting hold of a sterilized needle. But I’ll take it! “Aloryk,” I breathe when he nods, stepping even closer and taking the opened pot from his palm. “That’s amazing! I love it, thank you!”
“There are only two colors,” he says, giving me the other little jar. “Black and… not so black.” I lift the second lid, and sure enough, this one is a muted version of the first. “I asked the Elder if I could learn to make others and he said it is possible.”
I beam up at him, clutching the ink-like substances close. I’ve missed being creative so, so much, it’s been like I’d left part of me still asleep in that awful pod. I might be a bit rusty though. What I wouldn’t give for a sketchbook. “Do we have anything I could practice designs on?”
Aloryk steps into my personal space like he owns it, one of his big hands claiming my hip, the other sliding under my chin to cup my jaw and tip my face up toward him. “Useme, little female.”
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much in my whole entire life. But, with Aloryk being so damn tall, even going up onto my tiptoes, I have to tell him, “kiss me,” in a breathy voice that doesn’t sound like my own. He obliges, leaning down so that our lips can meet.
