22. Bambi
BAMBI
“Bikar… can you tell me… what exactly are you?”
The question’s been rolling around in my brain since I figured out that Bikar isn’t like his brothers.
I know that some of them, like Murgul, suffered terribly at the hands of the critters they call the Aynar…
but Bikar’s changes seem more like magic than anything else.
I mean, his hands can disappear into things, for crying out loud!
Not to mention the ports hiding amongst the spines on his back.
If I hadn’t seen them for myself, I never would have known they were there, since Bikar keeps his wing slits hidden at all times with a vest. It took me a while to figure out that he can either flatten or sink his spines into his back, making it easier for him to wear a shirt—or in his case a vest—than his siblings.
The pupils in both his eyes shrink to pinpoints at my question, and his attention shifts as he peers around the room, checking to see if anyone overheard my question.
That’s definitely not the reaction I was expecting. Not that I’m real sure what I anticipated he would do.
“If you are finished with your sweet treat, perhaps we could go somewhere… less frequented by the other inhabitants of our shuttle? The helm room, perhaps?” His deep voice drops even lower than usual as he voices the request.
Knowing the drill by now, I set my fork on my plate before sliding it across the table to him.
Offering me a sweet smile that flashes sharp teeth and tusks, Bikar scoops my dinnerware off the table and returns it to the replicator.
He’s back at the table in a flash, extending a helpful hand for me to slip down and out of the Ruk-sized chair.
Flashing him a grateful smile, I grab his calloused hand and ignore the way his massive body shudders when our skin touches.
“Thanks, Bikar. I’m ready when you are.”
Inclining his head, he wordlessly acknowledges my gratitude, and we walk hand in hand together across the dining hall.
I ignore the pointed stares of the other Ruks until the door slides shut, separating us from them.
“Do all the other Ruks stare at you like that all the time? I didn’t really notice it on Deapra since I was actively avoiding you, but… it’s blatantly obvious here.”
Bikar’s stride pauses slightly, keeping his gaze on the corridor as he answers.
“It is hard for them to accept… what I am. The laws from our home world, Uzrul, dictate that my brothers and I are all abominations that should be destroyed. However, we are the ones who saved them from certain death on Deapra. They do not know how to interact with us… me.”
By the time he finishes his stilted explanation, we’ve reached the helm room door, and he steps to the side, allowing me entry before he swipes his hand across the sensor.
The sound the door makes as it shuts behind me seems somehow…
final—as if once I learn the answers to my questions, there’s no going back.
Truth be told, I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Nervous, yes, but also… hopeful?
Hopeful that this will be a definitive step in getting to know the real Bikar. Not the witty, sarcastic front he shows everyone else. If I’m supposed to be this male's long-awaited and cherished mate, then shouldn’t I know the truth?
Looking around the helm room, I realize that the sneaky male has bamboozled me. I’ve only been in here once when Bikar was dying, so it didn’t occur to me that there wouldn’t be somewhere else for me to sit. I was more than a little preoccupied last time. “Bikar, there’s only one chair in here.”
Stepping around me, he smoothly slips my new tablet from my hands and sets it on the console before settling himself into what I can only surmise is the captain’s or pilot’s seat.
That damn infuriating smirk is pulling at his lips, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “What an astute observation, little doe. Wherever shall you sit for our hearts-to-hearts conversation about me being an abomination that violates the laws of nature?”
If I roll my eyes any harder, they’re going to get stuck in the back of my head. “Ya know, everyone keeps saying how stinking smart you are, but for the life of me I can’t get you or anyone else to prove it.”
Frustration and amusement are battling it out inside me. I don’t like being tricked… but he’s damned amusing, and he knows it.
“Come now, little one. I don’t bite.” He pauses for dramatic effect, and I know what he’s going to say before he opens his stupid mouth. “Not unless you ask me nicely.”
Glaring at him, I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t know how you’ve lived this long without someone, aside from your brothers, doing you gratuitous physical harm for that mouth of yours.”
“I do have a rather nice mouth if I do say so myself,” is his cheeky response. He blatantly ignores my comment about getting his butt kicked by Murgul.
Stopping my foot, I can’t help but laugh at his bullshit. “Bikar! Can you be serious for once?”
How the hell does he exasperate and amuse me at the same time?
Snorting, he deflects. “Who is to say I am not being serious?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe… everyone and everything since I met y’all.”
Bikar’s smile slowly fades as he sobers, and then eloquently asks. “Bambi, my little doe, my Starshine. Would you grant me the privilege of holding you whilst I regale you about my…?”
The extreme formality of his request makes me smile before his voice trails off, and I can see he’s struggling to find the right word to describe himself. He isn’t an abomination, and he sure didn’t ask to be experimented on. Bikar’s special.
“Uniqueness,” I stress the word to make sure he’s listening. “The word you’re looking for is unique.”
Huffing out the heaviest sigh ever, I make a show of reluctantly walking towards him, trying to ignore the flare of anxiety in my gut and forgetting for a minute that he can scent my emotions.
His heavy brows lower, and he leans forward like he might stand. “Forgive me, I have pushed you too far, too fast.”
The hell?
Stopping just in front of him, I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “What are you going on about now?”
Slowly, he reaches out and lowers my hands, holding them tenderly, feathering his thumbs back and forth across my skin. “I can smell how nervous you are. All levity aside, I do not wish to push you away or cause you to distrust me further.”
The sincerity stamped on his face and reverberating in his voice bolsters me.
My nerves fade almost as fast as they formed, and the fluctuation is giving me emotional whiplash.
I don’t know what sort of weird alien mumbo jumbo is going on, but he’s the only man I’ve ever been this comfortable with, especially considering our short acquaintanceship.
Leveraging our joined hands, I push him back into the chair.
“Shut up, Bikar.”
Wiggling my fingers, I silently tell him to let me go and, ungracefully, climb into his lap. He lets out a sharp groan and sucks air when I accidentally knee him in the groin.
“Omph!” Mortification fills me, and I start to scramble off, only to smack him in his still bruised nose with my elbow. The blow lands squarely, and he reflexively leans forward.
I don’t know whether to cry or laugh, so I do what I do best and start hyperventilating. “OhmygoshI’msosorry! Pleasedon’tbemadatmethatwasanaccidentIswear!”
Bikar must see or smell that I’m about to lose my shit, because he pushes through the pain, scoops me up in his arms and settles me across his lap, all while taking slow, deep breaths.
“Bambi. Calm yourself. There is no permanent damage done.” A pause. “Hopefully.”
I’m not sure my face can get any redder, but I’m no longer worried about cuddling him.