See, I do not need Yannig to tell me how to speak to my mate.
Like a gentle kraken, I keep my suckers exactly where they are, even though it is the greatest torture. My suffering means nothing as long as it brings her pleasure.
Cindi tries to wriggle away, but my suckers refuse to let go, inadvertently pulling at her breasts. I relish in the way her lips part on a silent gasp. My sex winds around her leg, rubbing my seed over her skin. It takes all my strength not to inch closer toward her heat.
My tentacles move with her as she lunges forward and presses the blade against my throat. Her fearsomeness almost makes me smile.
I say a silent prayer to the Goddess that she breaks skin and leaves a scar. My mate would never kill me.
I hope.
“I won’t let you take me to your fucking spaceship,” she hisses, her injured hand resting limp yet stiff on one of my limbs.
My brows knit together. I did not see any fresh cuts on it. Is my venom not helping? Is it a bone issue? Maybe healing it will be one of my first acts as her mate.
“My…” What is a spaceship? Oh, I believe I understand. “My boat is small and would leave you exposed to the elements. I mostly leave it by the hut.”
She blinks. “You mean to tell me aliens have no fancy technology?”
I am…confused. An alien? How does finding me unfamiliar impact technology?
“I have magic.” Is that what she’s referring to?
Cindi’s eyes dart around the den. “Like crystals and sage and stuff?”
I point to the wall. “I believe it is pronouncedrockandalgae.” Maybe I’m getting my English wrong.
“No, that’s not what I—” Cindi tightens her grip on the knife as she returns her glare on me. She wavers, slumping forward lightly, like the energy has suddenly been sucked out of her. Is she sick? What’s wrong? Do I need to find the healer tonight?
“Tell me what is wrong with your arm,” I demand.
In a matter of seconds, she rights herself, crackling with the same fire like she didn’t have a moment of weakness.
“What are you then?” she presses, disregarding my question.
I study her carefully for signs of the Waste. Her eyes are slightly sunken, but her skin doesn’t have the green tinge, andthe whites of her eyes are clear. It would be far too soon for the water to make her sick. It would take months to years for it to affect her.
Is it a human sickness, then? Her skin isn’t hot to the touch. What else should I look out for?
“Kraken,” I answer.
“Like an octopus-squid thing?” She scrunches her nose, seemingly fine.
I frown, attempting not to take offense at her insinuation I’m dimwitted. “No, like a kraken.”
“You know what? Never mind.” She shakes her head, pushing the serrated edge of the knife harder against my throat. “I don’t care. Just take me back.” My mate’s tone sharpens.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I cannot let you leave.” Ever.
Her eyes search mine, scent turning bitter with fear, chasing away any evidence of her lust. My lips tic, and I suppress the urge to growl. We were making headway. She was beginning to understand. Why is she upset again?
Cindi lowers her voice. “Are you…” Her voice holds vulnerability I don’t like. “Giving me to them?”
I snarl. I wouldn’t give her to anyone.
