Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AIRIK
“This is easy!”
Nora’s lips formed a mesmerizing pout of pink as she blew on the kindling spark.
Airik caught her hair rope before it slid off her shoulder. His chest hammered as he watched her mounting excitement, the spark catching and crackling, growing into a proper flame.
She looked back at Airik with unfettered pride, unbothered by the way he still held her hair. “Did you see that? I did it!”
“I saw,” he said to her, unable to tear his eyes away from her smile.
If things had been different for them, he’d have done an inordinate number of things to keep that pleasure burning for her.
He let her braid fall so it rested safely down the center of her back.
“Now sit back before the fire eats your hair.”
The second clearing for “agricultural research” didn’t have a hut or reservoir like the first, but they’d found a glass enclosure overgrown with vines. It had a door and slitted vents, allowing them to rest in relative safety, protected from wandering beasts.
They sat in a row—her, Lucky, and then him, all of them facing the fire. The smell of some overly fatty broth filled the air as she prepared a ration of her food for them both.
The night was tranquil and calm. A chorus of insects filled the forest’s darkness with a soothing hum. At least the Veynari hadn’t seeded the planet with biting insects.
“On tonight’s menu is Chicken à la King.” Nora set the heating device that came with the rations on top of the prepared box and set it aside. “Just a few more minutes till it’s ready.” She gave him a rueful smile. “It smells like cat food, but hopefully the pound cake will make up for it.”
He leaned against an empty crate, watching as she undid the rope of her hair and combed through it with her fingers.
If he moved, his body would rebel. He’d crawl to her on his hands and knees and stop her.
Shove her hands away and take her hair for his own, wrapping it around himself until he was fully bound and taken.
Maybe he’d even strangle himself with it—that was what he deserved. This was a singular fire he’d never wanted to face, and despite all his efforts to avoid it, his resolve had crumbled with disturbing speed.
A morazir no longer beholden to the oaths would soon be dead, unable to think quickly enough to survive.
Nora began the alternating twisting arrangement to form the rope she usually wore. Was that how she’d woven herself between his ribs and around his heart?
“Your turn,” she told Lucky, brushing through his tail.
For the first time since the ooshi had started following them, Airik was thankful for him—Nora would be too distracted to notice how shamelessly he looked upon her.
A small consolation as his breath came coarse, imagining her fingers combing his own hair.
“How is your foot?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she replied. “A day’s rest was all I needed.”
Lucky made an annoyed trill, giving Nora a pointed look.
She laughed, giving him a scratch behind his ears. “You’re gonna tattle on me now? Well…you’re a shitty watch-cat-fox-dog.”
Lucky’s ears drooped, giving Airik a helpless look.
“It was not his fault,” Airik said, returning the ooshi’s glare with guilt. “I told him not to move. He obeyed. Too well.”
Nora’s eyes widened, and she hugged Lucky close to her chest. “So, he was really just being a good boy?”
“Not a good boy,” he said, his stomach burning with jealousy. “He could have stayed quiet. A lot about him is…wrong.”
She clapped her hands over Lucky’s ears. “Don’t say that! I’m sure he understands.” She tilted her head, giving Lucky an adoring look that made Airik clench his jaw even tighter. “But he’s right—if you weren’t so cute, it would be a little creepy.”
“Yes, he is creepy,” Airik insisted, wanting her eyes back on him. “An uncreepy ooshi can only smell the…signals your body sends. If you’re scared or happy. Stressed.”
Lucky mewled, as if to say he was unsatisfied with that response.
“This one knows more,” he added. “Like you said…creepy. We should leave him here.”
Nora made a sound with her tongue. “Don’t listen to him, Lucky. He’s just being a Major Asshole right now.” She chuckled, clearly pleased by her own joke, then pressed her lips to the ooshi’s forehead in the most fascinating display of affection Airik had seen in his life.
He sat back, struck speechless, wondering what in the Six Realms of Ulliel he’d just witnessed.
Forgetting that asshole didn’t sound like a good word and that she’d called him major again.
Wondering whether such a touch with lips was reserved for animals…
or if it could be shared between one another.
He didn’t have time to ask because Nora spoke to Lucky again.
“On Earth, you’d be a superstar—you’d have a website, show, and a staff to make sure your butt’s perfectly fluffed.”
Airik groaned, turning to the fire, watching sparks float up.
“You’d be a superstar, too,” Nora added, glancing his way as if she knew what she was doing to him. “You’d be a hero, have your own show and a fan club. Not sure about a staff to keep your butt fluffed, though.”
“I don’t want my butt fluffed.” Fates, was he pouting like a child?
She giggled. His heart skipped. What else could he do to encourage her to make that sound again?
After they ate, to Airik’s inexplicable pleasure, Lucky disappeared into the forest to hunt for himself.
Nora sat on their remaining bedroll—the other sacrificed beneath the margorok—gazing at the sky.
“I haven’t seen stars in a long time,” she said, watching the fiery trails of the atmospheric processors as they fell back to the ground.
“And I’ve never seen a shooting star in my life until now. ”
“Your people can shoot stars?”
Nora covered her mouth as she laughed, and he had to resist the urge to pull her arm down so he could see the joy he had given her. “No, we can’t do anything with that level of precision, or else I wouldn’t be here.”
Swallowing a growl, Airik rejected the possibility of a more precise race of humanity.
One that had succeeded in transporting her to Mars.
If that were the case, he thought, to his horror, she’d be nothing more than a vague, faceless dream of a woman who’d melted him, touched him, and cared for him as he never thought he’d experience again.
His heart thumped painfully, the desire to keep her at odds with everything.
“Then why do you never see stars? Every living planet’s sky has them.”
Her head dipped toward her chest, but as she spoke, he could still hear the smile. Her version of armor, he realized.
“Shooting stars are just little pieces of space—a rock or something—that fall through the atmosphere, burn up, and leave streaks in the sky. I wasn’t on Earth so…no shooting stars.”
He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to respond. But the margorok’s poison—it had weakened Airik’s flesh and mind too much.
“On Vorakon, we have that,” he said. “Falling pieces of stars. Children ask shooting stars for favors. Small things. Like more food at the next meal. Or an easier day of…learning.”
“Really?” She looked at him excitedly and let out a small hum. He’d said something right. “Your people wish on shooting stars? Humans do the same!”
“So…there are stars in Earth’s sky.”
She laughed again, softer this time. “It seems you’re not only a hero but also an investigator. Are you fishing for details about Earth before an invasion?”
“I don’t know half of those words, demon eyes,” he said. “But I don’t like hero. You say it often. Don’t call me that—it’s a dangerous word.”
“Well, you did say I’m a dangerous woman.” She turned to him, smiling. “You’re using more contractions—good job.”
Without shame or instinct to stop her, Airik let her look, reveling in the heat of her gaze and her praise. “Thank you. I have an okay teacher.”
When her face went bright red, she made another happy but nervous hum, then turned back to the sky. A jagged line peeked out from under her hairline, lighter than the rest of her skin—a scar.
This woman had been hurt long before meeting him.
“Why are you staring at me?” he heard her ask.
“Because I want to see a human wish.”
“I’m not making a wish.”
“You should. Because I want to see how…please.”
She gave him a quick, sidelong glance. “But it’ll be boring to watch. Plus, I can’t tell you what I wish for, or else it won’t come true.”
“It would not be boring to watch you wish, demon eyes, even if you do it silently.” Airik shifted closer. Though she didn’t look at him, he could see her cheeks flush in response to his words. “Nora…make a fucking wish.”
Her head spun to him, her mouth falling open.
They both blinked.
He regretted the words—he must’ve said something wrong.
Before he could apologize, she burst into laughter, deep and unrestrained, unlike before. “Damn if you’re not a fast learner,” she said between breaths, gripping her sides.
He was powerless to resist joining her, the motion rocking his body with a lightness he hadn’t known was possible. After a few moments, their laughter faded, and Airik nodded. “Hurry, Nora,” he said. “I want to see.”
She shut her eyes, clasping her hands together in front of her face. “All right, I’ll make a wish. But you can’t stare at me, though. It makes me nervous.”
With no intention to stop looking, he said, “But how else will I know what you want so I can fix it to come true?”
A morazir can never make any wish come true—what are you saying?
She pinched her eyes tighter shut, clasping her fingers harder.
His gaze traveled down from her eyes, along the bridge of her nose to her lips, which remained slightly parted. Every part of his body pined for her. And if the pink glow in her cheeks was any indication of how she felt, then what a terrible, beautiful mess all of this was becoming between them.
“Okay, now you,” she said, opening her eyes. “Make a wish, Airik.”
Morazir do not wish, either.