Chapter 7
Cosima
We had been at the Shaman’s home for three whole days, and Naomi and I had nearly talked ourselves ragged on as many subjects as we could think of to help create the language database for Artek.
It felt extremely weird to be helping to create something when I knew I wouldn’t be able to use it.
I still hadn’t told anyone about it either.
I had currently secluded myself in a small office-like room in Artek’s home.
There was a desk and books on a shelf along one wall.
The chair was a little too big for me, shaped to better fit the larger Naga bodies.
But there was plenty of space to spread out all my papers so I could perfect my drawings and calculations.
I had everything I needed to finish this up, it just took time to write out my plans and instructions so they’d make sense to me later.
The Shaman even had access to quills and ink, so I could use fine charcoal to sketch, and the ink to finalize my details.
It was… rejuvenating and healing to work on blueprints again.
It brought me in contact with the old me, from before the abduction and stint in captivity with the Scrakoids.
I was in my element again, capable, and doing something that was going to provide food to Outcast Haven and the humans there.
The only snag in feeling better was Zsekhet.
He kept intruding on my thoughts, making me lose my focus so I’d end up doing calculations several times over just to be sure I wasn’t making any mistakes.
I was pretty sure he was the ‘secret’ but not-so-secret admirer that Naomi had been giggling about before.
For one, because he made sure to bring me those berries I liked for every meal and flowers at least twice a day.
My room was filled with little clay pots with them, I even had a bunch on my desk right there.
I was shocked with how not-upset I was with this discovery.
No wonder he’d been looking at me so intensely when he was so easy going with everyone else.
But I still hadn’t really changed my mind about a mate, I had my chance with Caleb, how could I replace him with someone new?
That felt like betrayal, even though rationally I knew that everyone would tell me I deserved to move on, to find new happiness.
How did I know if I was even ready for such a thing?
My eyes lingered on a particular black line of ink I’d made with the help of a ruler that I’d carved the notches on myself.
It reminded me a little too much of the black lines of Zsekhet’s horns and now I felt myself grow mad.
Why did he want to get the first translator so badly?
He shouldn’t be the one taking that kind of a risk, let it be one of the others, the aspirants.
I rubbed frantically at the back of my ear, over the scar tissue there.
Just thinking about any kind of surgery there made me super squeamish.
I hated it. I didn’t want anyone to do that to Zsekhet, even if rationally I knew that the Shaman would take every precaution.
This was a planet that was, for the most part, stuck in some kind of hybrid between the Stone Age and as I’d learned, Bronze Age. How skilled was this healer?
My thoughts were a complete mess about this guy but one thing I knew I had to admit, he was sexy.
I was attracted, and now that I knew he was into me too…
It was like some kind of barrier had been breached.
I tried to tell myself he was only interested because I was his one chance at a mate, but he’d settled on me, not Min-Ji.
It was no use, it was making me all hot and warm inside to be found attractive by a potent man like him.
As if my thoughts had summoned him, Zsekhet sailed whistling into my little office space, his arms full of some silky, soft-looking furs.
He grinned at me, displaying his sharp fangs, and started talking rapidly in his strange language.
What, did he expect me to just get what he was saying now?
This guy kept giving me the runaround, making me think up was down, and it was…
good for me in some ways? I had stepped way out of my comfort zone because of him in the past week.
I was finally starting to feel sort of whole again.
He dropped the furs carelessly on the ground, still talking, his golden eyes shimmering with excitement.
The long black hair he normally wore loose around his head, had been tightly braided, and when he started to gesture at his ears I knew why.
He’d gone and done the procedure! He had allowed the Shaman to cut into his head to install ancient implants that the Shaman had dug up from his store room.
I flew to my feet, “Oh no! You didn’t! Zsekhet…
What if it goes wrong? What if it doesn’t work?
No! You should have let someone else go first!
” I flapped my hands at his ears, not wanting to touch him but mad, and worried enough to approach and get right in his face.
“Don’t you know how dangerous that is? So many things could go wrong!
” Compulsively I reached up and touched the scar behind my left ear.
Zsekhet had been grinning widely, and that grin hadn’t faltered when I started yelling at him.
He fucking liked it that I was worried, should have known.
I fell silent and crossed my arms, just glaring at him through my lashes.
Fine, he could understand me now, so I’d just not talk. See how he liked that.
But that resolve shattered in an instant when he started gesturing out the door, trying to get me to come with him.
Hell no! He wanted me to get the same thing done to me?
Never! Never mind that it wasn’t even physically possible due to the damage, I was terrified of going under the knife near my ears ever again.
He was making all these sounds that were encouraging, trying to usher me with him without actually touching me.
His expression was as hopeful as a puppy dog, and that just made me want to fall back on the crying.
I was going to disappoint him and already I felt torn in two, the urge to please him almost as strong as my fear not to have surgery.
I couldn’t do this and though I repeatedly told him no, he just kept shaking his head and urging me to the door.
With the first pinch of tears stinging the corners of my eyes and the back of my throat I finally caved.
“I can’t. Look!” I tilted my head to the side and pulled my hair out of the way to reveal the irregular scarring behind that ear.
He fell silent in an instant, but I forged on, tilting my head the other way to show the matching scar on the other side.
“I was taken hostage on a planet when it was just supposed to be a job to design new buildings… The rebels ripped my implants out of my head on camera to try to make my government, the UAR, surrender their lands back to them. They meant it as a symbol of broken communications. I can’t have implants again, there is too much damage.
” And even if this Shaman could somehow, miraculously heal all that, I didn’t want them anyway.
My fear of any surgery in that location was one of the things I was okay with.
I couldn’t fix all the broken parts I had.
I hadn’t realized the first tear had managed to escape until something soft brushed across my cheek and wiped it away.
A feather, one of the quills from my desk, carefully pinched between Zsekhet’s large fingers.
He had the most tender of expressions on his handsome face, his eyes warm but not with pity.
I just felt like he cared from just the look in his eyes.
He’d heard what I’d said and now he was no longer pushing me out the door but he was moving closer.
The feather was a sign of respect, respect for my boundaries, and for how hard he could push me.
I felt safe, I felt like he understood parts of me that even I didn’t.
More of that crazy thinking but now that the thoughts were there, there was no putting them back.
Yeah, if we touched, would his sigils light up for me?
I was almost certain that they would, and equally certain that I’d be pretty devastated if they didn’t.
I didn’t want a mate, I thought fiercely, but that thought felt like a lie now. Maybe… Maybe I was coming around to the idea of having one, if that mate was as careful of my boundaries as Zsekhet was. No, he was not that careful either. He pushed me all the time.
Point in case, he lifted the tip of his tail and held it in front of my face.
Again, offering it to me, asking me if I wanted to know if we were mates.
When I shook my head, that tail dropped to the floor without a sound and he held the feather up between us instead.
I wasn’t sure what he meant with that gesture, but when I did nothing, he flicked it forward and stroked me across my cheek.
Heat shot through me at that touch. Now I understood what he meant, he wanted to touch me, with the feather if not with his skin. He was offering me pleasure, the heat in his eyes telling me everything I needed to know.
I hesitated, did I want that? Did I want to lose myself to touch for a moment in time? Did I trust this male with my body? Yeah, I did. He’d rescued me once, and he had made no demands after, that said something too. That said I could trust him like I knew I could trust the others at Haven.
I dipped my chin down in a yes and he hissed, his tongue flicking out to taste the air.
Then he leaned around me, swiping papers from my desk and throwing the furs he’d brought with him on the surface instead.
Oh, he wanted me to get on there did he?
That did look inviting, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do.