I leave my brothers to talk to the crowd, needing to be away from everyone. If there were Honey women watching our fight, I might stay to talk with some of them, gauging our interest. And over several days, perhaps agreed to learn more.
That is what I should be doing with the human women, but I don’t know enough about humans, and I do not want to be answering the same questions about the Honey a dozen times.
I lock my door and strip off my pants. My thoughts on Harper and how easily we talk about the humans and the Honey. Does her watching mean something?
Was she annoyed because she doesn’t want other women looking at me because she is interested? I run my hand over my meq as it thickens. I have not shared my blanket with any of my brothers since they took the human women, and fighting did not work out my frustration.
If she is interested in being my mate, then she should say something…or is she waiting for me to say something? I snarl at the mess that my life has become. Things were simpler before we found this land and these people. Survival doesn’t leave much room for thoughts of the future.
Now there’s too much time to think and worry and want.
Do I want Harper?
I grip my meq and stroke from root to tip, not wanting to admit how much I enjoy spending time with her. If she had walked over after the fight, I would have spoken to her. Perhaps I would’ve invited her to my room.
It’s easy to imagine her agreeing. And I indulge in the fantasy of being claimed. Of her admitting that she wants me to be her mate because of my fighting and sewing skills—as if that is enough.
My hand moves faster, caressing the pleasure bumps with each stroke. I rest my hand on the wall, imagining it is her hand. I slide my thumb over the slit, spreading the leaking pre-cum, sure that I have never been so on edge before. My hips jerk, and my balls tighten, and I drop to my knees, spilling on to my discarded pants with a groan.
For several breaths, I can’t do anything more than rock back onto my heels as the wave of pleasure subsides. Perhaps I need to ask Hrad if he wants some company.
Tell me when you are done because Harper wants to visit you.Edilk’s message buzzes through my kam, and for a moment I’m sure he knows what I was doing—but he is not outside my door, listening to my heartbeat.Unless you do not want to see her.
I grab my pants and shove them into the laundry bag, not sure how to respond.
I want to see her, but I do not want to make a mistake because lust is coursing through my body. So I remain silent as I pad into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
Edilk buzzes me again, seeking an answer.
Is Harper waiting?
I do not want to leave things the way they are, as I consider her a friend. But will inviting her to my room imply something else? And do I want that implication?
If I refuse to see her, it will be much harder to put right the tension between us. So I do what I need to survive.
I will see her.
11
HARPER
Ihadn’t intended to stay and watch the fight, but I followed the others who were expecting a brawl—I was hoping Yva wasn’t involved. After watching for a few seconds, it’s clear they are training like any soldier with only two fighting at a time. They are all stripped down and only wearing the pants they arrived in—not their new colony clothes—tattoos glowing blue.
They train so differently to human soldiers. I see them running laps around the colony, or doing push-ups, or wrestling. I don’t see them train with their weapons very often.
The Honey didn’t train with weapons either. And at first when they paired off, it appeared as though they were doing nothing despite the concentration etched on their faces. It was also the first time I’ve ever seen them lift their hands and extend their fingers.
I’m glad one of the warriors took the time to explain what was going on, as the fighters stood as if ready to launch into a fight, but barely moving except to take the occasional step to distract their opponent. It’s only when sparks burst from one of their hands that the fight begins.
They fight harder than the human soldiers do.
I’m surprised bones are not broken.
The gaggle of women grew with each passing minute. It is hard to ignore their whispers as they admire the warriors’ bodies and their tattoos even though I do the same as Yva gets up for the last fight. His attention is on his opponent, as they battle for the first spark, and he is mesmerizing. I gasp when Yva makes the first spark and then makes the first attack. The fight is rough, and I bite my lip to stay quiet. He must be hurting.
But he wins.
I grin wanting to say something, but other women surge toward the fighters. The women smile and flutter their lashes.
