Chapter 10 - Zyntarr #2
She wades into the water, walking that bare body of hers right past me as I stand here like an idiotic green-male frozen in awe.
Her tailless rear jiggles before it is obscured by the deeper waters.
I swallow thickly. Maybe this female should not trust me at all because I-…
I want to bite her. Why should I want to bite her?
That makes no sense at all. She is not food for feasting on, and yet I want to taste every part of her. My mouth waters at the thought.
Fuck.
Goddess, save me!
I do not know about ‘being more relaxed with each other’. I am very not relaxed right now. I feel similar to how it is before a fight - before a battle or a hunt. But I do not wish to fight or hunt my little Bea. I wish to protect and care for her… and bite her now, for some reason.
Shaking out of my daze, I follow my female into the deeper waters. The river up to her waist and barely covering my cock. Bea’s arm bands over her special female chest-curves - her wonderful ‘breasts’.
“Why do I want to bite you?”
I… had not meant to say that out loud.
Bea’s mouth hangs open a second or two and I am about to apologize for not holding my tongue, but then she laughs.
It is my most favorite of sounds.
My Bea’s laugh is like a sacred message from the Goddesses. As long as there is Bea’s laughter, there is always good in these lands. I do not know how I coped without it before her.
She bends her knees and dunks herself further into the riverwaters - up to her chin.
“You know, there’s this thing called ‘cuteness-aggression’ back on Earth.
Where humans will see a pet or a baby animal and be so overcome by the cuteness that they want to hug them - tightly.
Too tightly. They kind of want to squish them because they don’t know what to do with all the cuteness. ”
I frown. “I… do not wish to squeesh you… I think?”
She laughs again, lighter this time, her arms gently swaying just beneath the water’s surface.
The light from the lifestones means that I can see her body beneath the waters, but the river’s current means I cannot see the details.
“Or, maybe this is the first time you’ve seen a woman without clothing on and your body doesn’t really know what to do about that? ”
I lean closer, flaring my wings out wide as, beneath the waters, I wrap my tail around her ankle to keep her tethered to me. “Will you show me ‘what to do about that’, little Bea?”
Her swaying arms still, her open mouth taking in a short, sharp inhale that any other male might not notice. But I notice. I notice everything about my Bea.
She wets her lips with her delicate, human tongue.
I think I have shocked her with my words, but she soon recovers.
“Do you think if we… fool around a little… maybe it will…” Her eyes fall to my chest and this time I follow her line of sight, too.
The heart-stars are there - I know they are.
But they are not bright, not at all. They hide behind my scars.
If it were not for this night’s darkness, you would not see anything there at all besides the crossing pattern of mangled skin.
I do not know the meaning of this ‘fool around’, but I am willing to do anything to prove to my mate that this is the right choice - that I am the right choice. Fool or not.
Dipping low to mimic her stance, I cover my barely-there heart-stars with the riverwaters so that I am now face-to-face with my Bea. “I will be a fool for you if you wish,” I tell her.
She wears a smile that twists to the side at my words, but she does not answer - does not show me how I am to make a fool of myself for her.
In fact, she does not make a move to do anything. She is… stuck again, I think. Frozen like the mountain ices because she cannot commit to a decision until she is sure it is the right one.
“What are you afraid will happen?” I ask her, my voice gentle and only a little louder than the sounds of the river.
She blinks at me for a moment, her bottom lip caught in her teeth before she releases it and swallows.
“I’m worried that those aren’t for me,” she says, gesturing to my chest below the waters.
“I’m worried that they’ll glow brighter for someone else.
Or that a different male Trixikka will get his heart-stars for me but I’ll-”
Her words are cut off by the growl building in my chest. “I shall challenge him, and win,” I tell her, jerking my chin and hardening my jaw.
In truth, I know my heart-stars are hers and hers alone.
I do not need to fear others coming between us.
But just the mention of another male trying to claim my female makes me want to tear flesh from bone.
My tail tightens around her ankle and I tug her a little closer.
She stares at me a while before asking, “and what about the other scenario? What if another woman brings out your-”
“I will scoop you up, and fly us far away from her.”
Bea tilts her head at my response. “You won’t want to do that if she’s your mate.”
Without thought, I reach forward and take her delicate jaw in my hand.
“You are my mate, Bea. You. No other female is going to ignite my stars. These-” I stand again, my frame rising from the waters with the river rushing down my chest and wings.
I gesture to my scarred heart. “-are for you, Bea. No one else.”
The quiet between us is filled with the song of the nightflies, and the flow of the waters. All we do is stare at one another, and I know she is brave enough to trust this bond the Goddesses have granted us - even if she does not think she is.
Tentatively, she reaches forward. Her movements are slow and unsure.
She pauses to look up and meet my good eye, her hand outstretched between us.
Is she asking permission to touch me? She has permission to do with me whatever she wishes.
Truly, all that I am is hers. I nod my head and hold my breath when she stands up in the waters now too, no longer covering her beautiful breasts.
I try not to stare.
I remember something that one of the other humans had said about staring, and how it can be unwelcome to some females.
But surely the Goddesses wanted my little Bea to be held in awe, to be worshiped and revered. Why else would they make her form so soft, so inviting, so… biteable? Maybe I do want to squeesh her after all?
I am too distracted by her feeling comfortable enough with me to bare her chest, that I almost forget she wants to touch me.
The first gentle brush of her delicate fingers over my scarred heart causes a burst of skin-stars to explode all over my body. I try to halt the groan in my throat by holding my breath, but it only escapes in a strangled sort of noise instead.
She pauses her exploration, but does not pull away, and for that, I am grateful. Instead, she blinks at me, silently asking for further permission. I am swift to grant it by nodding so quickly I fear I may have pulled a muscle in my neck.
Her hands softly trace over my skin, starting at my chest but moving to cover my heart-stars.
She lets out a soft gasp, and I watch as her expression goes from hopeful surprise to disappointment when she pulls her touch away.
“In the dark I can see them get a little brighter when I touch you there, but they don’t stay that way,” she says, the words spoken as if to herself, her pinched brows framing the concentration on her face as she touches me again, testing my heart-stars.
“You are brave enough to believe they are there for you, even if they cannot shine bright all of the time.”
Her touches halt, and now that look of surprise is aimed up at me. “I am?”
I nod my head slowly this time. “Yes, Bea. You are. You were brave to tell me of your past. You are brave for facing a new life away from your homelands, even if you did not choose it.”
“I don’t feel brave,” she confesses, her gaze falling back to where her palm rests on my chest, her cheeks blooming a darker shade. “I’m always afraid.”
Gently taking her chin in my hand again, I tilt her face upward.
“There is no bravery without fear,” I tell her.
“Just as there are no shadows without the light of the twin suns in the sky.” It is something that I have come to learn and observe over the seasons as a Protector.
The new green-males often come to training believing that fear must be conquered completely - you can not show it, you can not speak it, you can not feel it.
That is not bravery. That is stupidity. The Goddesses gave us fear as a tool to be used.
Bea makes a soft little huffing noise and leans further into the hold I have of her, and I am left wondering why such a small act has my knees feeling weak. “I’m tired of always being afraid, Zyn,” she whispers.
I nod before leaning down, gently resting my forehead on hers. “What would you do if you were not afraid, little Bea?”
We are so close. It feels as if there is only us two and the stars awake this night. The riverwaters are gentle, but there is still a soft trickle noise that almost drowns out her quiet words; “I would ask you to touch me.”