Chapter 11
The colony square had been transformed.
Juni stepped out of Goraath’s transport and stopped dead, her breath catching as she looked around. The cold bit into her cheeks, turned her breath to white fog right in front of her face.
Flames burned in iron braziers, casting warm gold across strings of crystal lights—lights like the ones she’d hung in his house.
Red fabric was draped between buildings and there were silver winter herbs twisted into wreaths on every door.
Carved wooden ornaments hung from branches of til’vaash, their pine-citrus scent mixing with roasting meat and something sweet she couldn’t name.
Goraath’s hand found the small of her back, warm through her jacket… solid. “Ready?”
She looked up at him and felt that flutter in her chest she’d been trying to ignore all day. He looked different. Still massive, still scarred, still her grumpy rancher, but there was something looser about him. The hard line of his jaw had softened and his eyes held warmth instead of wariness.
“Ready,” she said, with a nod.
They walked into the crowd together, his hand never leaving her back. The touch said mine without words, and she leaned into it. Let it warm her through.
The other women found her within minutes. Aida spotted her first, waving from near a food stall where the smell of grilled meat was thickest and made Juni’s stomach rumble. Then they were all there, just like they’d been on the shuttle, surrounding her with hugs and excited chatter.
“Well, look at you.” Aida’s grin was wide. “Someone’s glowing.”
Heat flooded Juni’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Val’s lips quirked at the corner. “That’s why you can’t stop smiling and ogling your big ranchers ass.”
She couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t hide it either, apparently. So she just shrugged and let them tease, catching Goraath’s eye over their heads. He stood a few feet away, giving her space.
The festival pulled her in after that. Vendors called out as she passed, waving her over. The vegetable vendor from her first trip to town spotted her and grinned.
“You! The Christmas female!” He beckoned her closer. “Try this. It’s a family recipe.”
He pressed a cup of something steaming into her hands. The ceramic was almost too hot to hold. She wrapped her fingers around it, and let the heat seep into her frozen skin.
“What is it?”
“Spiced kasta. Good for cold nights.” He winked. “And warm mornings after.”
The first sip burned her tongue. Sweet and sharp, like cinnamon but not quite. She took another.
“This is amazing.”
“I know.” He was already turning to another customer. “Tell your male. He never buys the good stuff.”
The male who’d given her the scarf found her near the til’vaash display. He fell into step beside her, hands shoved in his pockets.
“So.” He cleared his throat. “These Earth traditions. For Chistmss?”
She bit back her smile at the way he butchered the word.
“What about them?”
“Goraath said you made fabric ropes. Could you teach someone? How to make them?”
She glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at her but his ears had gone darker at the tips.
“Errr.. yeah. I can. Planning to take up crafting?” she asked.
“No. Maybe.” He shifted his weight. “There’s talk of more females coming. And I thought… if I knew some of their traditions already…”
Oh. She smiled. He was preparing… just in case. Warmth spread through her chest.
“I could teach a class,” she said. “If people were interested.”
His head came up, hope in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“We could blend traditions. Old and new. Make something that belongs to everyone here.”
He nodded, trying to look casual and failing. “That would be good. Useful.”
“Useful,” she agreed, hiding her smile behind her cup.
She looked around at the square—at the crystal lights and eternal flames, the red fabric and silver herbs, the carved ornaments and til’vaash branches—and felt something shift in her chest.
She caught Goraath watching her from across the square, that intensity in his eyes that made her stomach flip. He said something to the rancher beside him and crossed to her, his hand finding her lower back again.
“Having fun?”
“Yeah.” She leaned into his warmth. “I really am.”
A hand landed on Goraath’s shoulder. She turned to see Kaalden—the colony leader—behind them. Goraath turned as well, and he straightened up.
“Kaalden.”
The two men clasped forearms, grip to grip. It wasn’t a handshake, but something that seemed more… formal between them.
“Goraath.” The colony leader’s eyes flicked to Juni, back to Goraath. Kaalden’s voice was low, serious. “A word?”
Goraath’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. He caught Juni’s eye and held up a finger. One minute.
She smiled and watched them move to the edge of the square, heads bent close. Other colonists gave them space, dipping their heads as they passed.
She frowned. The way people moved around Goraath wasn’t the same as the other ranchers. Daax got friendly nods. The farmers got waves. But Goraath got... deference. Space. Like people were careful not to crowd him.
And now that she thought about it, he didn’t move like the other ranchers either. They ambled and slouched. They moved like men who spent their days walking fields and hauling feed.
Goraath moved like Kaalden. That same economy of motion. That same awareness of everything around him. That same coiled readiness she’d seen in—
Val. Both of them moved like Val.
Like soldiers.
Who were you? she wondered, watching the hard set of Goraath’s shoulders as he listened to Kaalden. Before you were a rancher, who were you?
He laughed at something Kaalden said. Actually laughed—head back, throat exposed, the sound rough and real. She’d never heard him laugh like that before.
She caught her breath.
She loved him.
Not might. Not could.
Did.
Present tense.
The words sat in her chest, too big and too terrifying to say out loud. She didn’t know if he felt the same. Didn’t know if this was just something physical for him—a man alone too long finally having someone warm in his bed.
But she knew what she felt, and she knew what she wanted.
She had to tell him.
When he came back from talking to Kaalden…
Goraath glanced over, caught her eye. Nodded once and smiled.
Shit. She loved him. How did she tell him that?
She smiled and nodded back, then drifted toward the edge of the square. She needed air. That and a moment to collect herself before she did the scariest thing she’d ever done.
The alley behind the main buildings was darker. Quieter and colder without the braziers and the press of bodies in the square. The festival noise faded to a distant hum. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. At least she could think back here.
She needed to think… needed to find the words.
I love you?
Okay, that was simple. Direct and utterly terrifying, but simple.
I love you, and I want to stay.
She bit her lip. That was better. Clearer. Still terrifying, but not as terrifying as the thought she was trying to ignore. But it formed in her head anyway.
I love you, even if you don’t—
Movement in the shadows made her head snap up.
She squinted, trying to see through the darkness.
“Who’s there?”
Three lathar stepped out of the darkness, blocking her path back to the square. They were huge and wore rough, tattered clothing… a kind she hadn’t seen any of the colonists wearing. And their eyes...
They were cold and hard. Filled with hatred.
Her stomach dropped.
“What do we have here?” The one in front smiled, malevolence shining in his eyes. “The breeding stock wandered off alone.”
She took a step back. Then another. Her boot slipped on frost as her heart hammered against her ribs.
“I was just leaving.” Her voice was steady. A minor miracle. “My... Goraath is waiting for me.”
“Is he?” The man was right in front of her now, close enough she could smell him. And he stank. Sweat and something sour, like he’d showered in rancid milk a week ago. The other two spread out, flanking her, and cutting off any escape.
“The great warrior, reduced to rutting with human filth.” He spat on the ground near her feet. “How far the mighty have fallen.”
Warrior. The word snagged in her brain. But there wasn’t time to think about it because the one in front grabbed for her and her body made the decision before her mind caught up.
She ran.
She was small, fast.
But they were faster.
A hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.
The palm was rough. Calloused. It tasted like salt and dirt but she bit down as hard as she could.
Someone swore and an arm wrapped around her waist from behind, lifting her off her feet like she weighed nothing.
She kicked back, and felt her heel connect with something solid. There was more swearing.
She twisted, clawed at the arm around her middle. Got her teeth into flesh again. The grip loosened for half a second and she screamed—
A fist slammed into her stomach.
All the air left her body. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. Could only hang there, gasping, as they dragged her deeper into the dark.
She was slammed against a wall hard enough to rattle her teeth. Stone scraped her back through her jacket. One of them pinned her arms while another grabbed her jaw, forcing her head back.
“Why are you doing this?” She whimpered, fear stealing what little strength she had. “I haven’t done anything to you.”
The alien that held her snorted as he looked down. His expression was annoyed, distant, like a bug had tried to initiate conversation.
“It’s not about you. We’re sending a message,” he said, his breath hot and sour on her face.
She tried not to gag. “To the colony warriors who think they know better. You don’t belong here.
None of you do. Pollution. Contamination.
” He spat the words like curses. “Our bloodlines survived for millennia without human filth. They’ll survive without you too. ”
“Please—” The word tore out of her, desperate and small.