Chapter 6 - Bea
I could have sworn I’d seen them. They had been right there - beautiful and glowing bright as I’d lifted my hand from Zyntarr’s chest. Not moving around like the other skin-stars.
They’d stayed right over his heart like they didn’t want to be anywhere else.
But then, as soon as the light from the two alien suns hit my eyes, they’d faded.
I think they’re still there - you can sort of see them very faintly if it’s dark.
But they aren’t the same. They didn’t look like High Spear Rynn’s heart-stars, or Mavyx’s, Ezryk’s or Zarriko’s.
Poor Aloryk’s haven’t shown up yet, but Polly just trusts that he’s her man so…
Is that what I’m supposed to do?
Zyntarr says it’s because of his scarring. Which makes perfect sense, it’s just…
Are they definitely there? Or did my eyes play tricks on me, showing me what I wanted to see?
I was just coming down from a stupid panic attack. Maybe it was just the proximity and the adrenaline?
We’re back at our village now, and the celebrations from Rynn and Serena’s happy announcement are continuing to spill over into the evening.
There’s an icky feeling in my gut when I remember how I’d reacted to their news.
Like my body had decided to make it all about me.
My mom had accused me of that very thing more times than I can remember, and I’d just gone and proved her right - again.
I don’t think they’d noticed that their pregnancy announcement had triggered me in any way.
At least I hope they didn’t see that. And it’s not like I haven’t experienced friends and colleagues falling pregnant before, it’s just…
I don’t know… it’s different here. On this whole other planet.
With this whole other species. Without hospitals or doctors or midwives or a freaking doula!
I mean… Holy Shit, did Serena think this through?
I glance down the gathered space toward the High Spear and his mate.
We’re all sitting around some low fires and the glow from the flames is casting golden light and shadows across her happy features.
She looks so care-free. Elated. She looks like she has everything together.
Like certainty that everything will be alright paints every aspect of her life, always.
I remember when we all first woke up in that holding pen back at the alien auction.
When we’d been bought and herded into a friggin’ spaceship.
She had seemed so calm to me. Like no matter what happened, she would be able to see what the right path would be to get us out of there.
I’ve never been able to see those paths. My mom said the devil likes to lead us down the wrong ones, and the weak are easily led.
“These meats are not spiced well enough for you,” Zyntarr leans into my side to grumble. “I should have been the one to cook for my mate.” He then proceeds to sprinkle his own blend of herbs and spices on my dish.
I suck in a breath, my eyes going wide before I throw furtive glances all around to see if anyone had heard him.
Luckily, everyone else is too far into their high spirits over the pregnancy to pay him any attention.
Then my eyes fall onto Zyn’s chest again.
Here, in the dark of evening, you can kind of see some of his stars staying in the area of his heart, but they are so faint, it’s as if they’ve got a thick cloth draped over them.
And there’s nowhere near as many as what’s displayed on Rynn’s chest at the head of the gathering.
And… no one else has noticed them.
Isn’t that a big ol’ clue that maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t really there? Maybe they don’t count as heart-stars?
“The meat is fine,” I answer, just as I drop the little morsel I was about to eat, dipping my fingers into the small bowl of water to clean the grease off. “I’m just tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
As soon as I stand, brushing the dust off my butt, Zyntarr stands too, his frame towering over me.
I throw a few smiles and some ‘goodnights’ out to anyone who even notices that I’m leaving the party - though, not many do.
Zyn doesn’t bother with any of that and just follows me, his tail twitching behind him like he’s turned himself into my personal, imposing shadow.
It’s not until we’re out of earshot from everyone else that I turn abruptly, somehow still surprised at just how closely Zyntarr is following along behind me.
He halts in an instant, my big stealthy, deadly shadow.
“Zyntarr-” I start, my gaze caught on that one beautiful, sky-blue eye staring down at me intently.
“Bea,” he states in return, tilting his head like a curious animal as he watches me, unsure of what I might say next.
I’m so affected by his nearness, I’m even a little unsure of what I was going to say now. “I-” my mouth opens and closes like a fish. Then, I can’t help but let my eyes fall to his broad chest-
His severely scarred broad chest.
His severely scarred broad chest with very unclear skin-stars.
Like… they’re not even really there. I squint at the area as if that would make them reveal themselves to me again.
“I’m not sure we should be telling anyone about this…
” I say, tentatively waving my palm in the general direction of his chest.
That big, broad chest of his seems to deflate a little in the dark. “Why not?” Zyn asks, his tail flicking violently once one way and then once the other.
“It’s just… we don’t know if they’re really there.”
“We know.”
This time, I’m squinting up at his face, not his chest, and even though the pitch black of night is threatening to swallow the village up in darkness very soon, I can still clearly see his features.
In fact, the shadows do nothing but emphasize his sharp cheekbones and slightly crooked nose.
“We don’t know anything for sure, Zyntarr,” I start. “What if-”
My words die on my tongue when I feel something soft brush the back of my legs and curl around to gently stroke at my shins. His tail. “What if what, little Bea? You saw them earlier. You will see them again.”
I shake my head. “I’d like to know for certain before we… do anything.”
Zyntarr goes very still, in fact, the only thing that moves is the slow rise of one brow - the one over his good eye.
“Before we make it official,” I add, before he starts to get any ideas.
There’s a moment there where he just stares, and stares. That one, piercing blue eye trying to dig deep and witness every corner, crevice and secret nook of my soul. Can he see that part of me that I’ve caged away? Can he see why I have to be certain?
No, of course he doesn’t. For him to see, I’ll have to explain. And for me to explain, I’ll have to remember, when all I want to do is forget.
“Um…” I twist the hem of my well-worn PJ top in both my hands while averting my gaze from his penetrating one.
“Thank you for what you did today.” It’s a means to change the subject, but it’s also something I have to say.
I’ve not thanked him yet, and I want him to know that I appreciate his actions. I appreciate him.
A gentle finger hooks beneath my chin, bringing my gaze back up to him.
His frame is so big and imposing, my head has to tilt upward to look him in the eye again.
“I did many things this day, little Bea. None of them needed thanks,” he pauses, his gaze dipping to where he can’t seem to help but softly wipe the pad of his rough thumb over my bottom lip.
“All of them were so that I might one day be worthy of my mate.”
Something hot quivers low in my belly at that.
If this was a rom-com or an action movie, this would be when the hero bends to kiss the heroine.
I used to love those types of movies. I remember people complaining about the formulaic nature of them - about how you could tell which characters were going to ‘get the girl’, which guys were obviously the ‘bad guys’ and the predictability of it all.
But I’d never seen the problem with all of that.
In fact, I’d taken comfort in the formulas those plots had used.
Everyone knew what was about to happen, but we still enjoyed watching actors perform their parts again and again.
But this isn’t a movie, and Zyn and I aren’t actors. This is real.
I think that’s why I always liked the idea of the heart-stars. It’s like the director of the movie is giving the leads their cue instead of everyone just ad-libbing and improvisating. If we stuck to the plot, everything would run smoothly and no one would get hurt.
Except, when I study Zyntarr’s features in the dim of the evening, I think my hesitancy is hurting him. I might one day be worthy of my mate. This means so much to him - so much to all the Trixikka really, and he’s the last person I would ever want to hurt.
But if we get this wrong - if I imagined those bright heart-stars…
If ‘the director’ decides that we’re meant for other people and rewrites the script, introduces a new cast…
It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“I meant when you helped me calm down from the panic attack,” I say quietly, my voice a little unsteady. “I really needed someone to ground me and stop the spiral, and you did that for me, Zyn. Thank you.”
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t accept my thanks, nor bat them away. It’s like he’s… waiting. Waiting for me to decide where this conversation is going. Which is… unsettling. I don’t enjoy leading situations like this.
Then my gaze drops to how his huge, scarred chest is steadily rising and falling with each breath. And I get the beginning of an idea.
“Maybe… maybe we could try to encourage your heart-stars to shine like how I thought I saw them before? Do you think they might?”
“They will, for you,” he grunts in return.
So certain.
I envy him that.
I take a breath. “Maybe, starting tomorrow, we can purposely spend more time together? The full day if possible. And maybe-… maybe I could tell you why I had that panic attack.” My eyes slide down to his barely-there heart-stars again.
“And hopefully, the more we really get to know each other, everything will become clearer.”