Chapter Eight #2
“I… wanted to apologize for my abrupt departure earlier. I didn’t mean to leave you there alone. Having a korravalryn will take some adjustment.”
A crease formed between her brows, but I didn’t have time to wonder what I’d said to upset her.
“Core-uh-val?”
It wasn’t surprising she didn’t understand the word since it was Morraki.
“KOR-rah-val-REN. There isn’t a direct translation, but it means something like promised mate.”
Her expression cleared and it almost seemed like she was going to smile until she started to sway. The crease returned, and she pressed one hand to her stomach, her throat working like she was trying to swallow.
The step I took toward her was automatic, although I managed to stop my hand before I touched her. It hovered between us, and she frowned at it before looking up to meet my eyes again.
“Are you well?”
Closer to her, I realized that cloying thickness in her scent was illness, making her flushed appearance take on new meaning.
“I’m… fine. Would you like a drink?”
She took a step away from me, and while I wanted to stop her, if she was going to get herself something, I would accept for her sake.
“I would share water with you.”
Kharev was usually offered to someone who visited your home, but I wasn’t sure Humans had anything similar, and Serenya didn’t need something that strong if she was already ill.
Humans didn’t value water the way the Morrak did, although its sacredness was something we shared with the Qy’shaeuhl.
Considering the current issues Earth faced, they should have learned, but I knew she wouldn’t understand the meaning behind the phrase.
I still surprised myself by uttering it.
Her lips lifted, although her eyes didn’t show any happiness. She nodded before turning and walking deeper into the house, and I was left with the option to either follow or make her return to where I stood.
I chose to follow.
Part of it was curiosity. A person’s home could tell a lot about them, but as we passed through a room with low, soft seating into one where meals were prepared, all I could sense was an impersonal coldness.
There were few decorations, and the space seemed barely lived in, as if Serenya and her father spent their time elsewhere.
With General Hale’s position, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was barely home, but it made me curious where Serenya preferred to be.
I watched as she opened a storage space and withdrew two clear vessels, setting them on the stone tabletop before moving to the other side of the room and opening another door that revealed a cold food storage.
“Ice?”
Serenya stared at me and it took a moment before I realized she had asked a question.
“In water?”
I felt as confused as she looked.
Glancing between me and the water container she’d pulled from the cold storage she said, “Yes?”
My lip curled before I could stop it, and I shook my head.
“No.”
Humans drank water cold? With Ice?
The revelation showed how much we still didn’t know about the species we’d agreed to protect, and how different things were going to be for the women who were going to Morrakan.
Water was revered as a life-giver. It was treated with respect. Chilling something to extend its usage was understandable, but putting something cold into your body made it harder for the body to absorb and use. It made the body waste valuable energy.
But watching Serenya’s face fall and the arm holding the container dip made me want to accept it anyway, simply because it came from her.
“Morrakan is warmer than Earth. Korvashan, what you would call our capital, is in the middle of a desert, so freezing things is difficult. I’m not used to cold drinks.”
The explanation seemed to help, and there was clear interest on her face as she started moving again, pouring the chilled water into one vessel before pausing.
“Would you prefer I warm it? Or I could get water from the tap so it’s room temperature instead of cold?”
Compromise. That was what we were going to have to learn to become mates, and I was glad she seemed willing to take a step in that direction.
“Not warmed, but not chilled is preferred.”
The smile she wore then was real, and my kethra almost flared. I tried to tell myself her emotions affected me because I needed to make this alliance work, but even I didn’t believe it. Even now, before truly being an omega, something about Serenya called to my alpha side.
Watching her adjust what she’d called the tap, one finger in the stream, I guessed to test the temperature, was almost painful. I could only hope Humans had a way to recapture the water without it being wasted.
Finally satisfied, she held the second vessel under the stream until it was filled. She wiped the outside with a cloth before handing it to me, and I had no choice but to take a careful sip since she waited.
It took effort to hold the fluid in my mouth and not spit it back out. If that was what Humans called water, it was no wonder their planet refused to produce enough food for them. It was poisoned with the taste of chemicals and metal.
When she turned her back to take her own water, I carefully released my mouthful back into the vessel I held, then almost dropped the whole thing as she swayed again.
“Serenya, you need to rest.”
When she blinked up at me her eyes were unfocused and her face was even redder. There was hair stuck to her cheek, and I reached out to push it back without thinking, hissing at the heat coming from her flesh.
“You are feverish.”
She sighed but didn’t deny it.
“I just need to take more medicine. I’ve got to finish packing.”
My growl spilled out then, rolling around the room as her eyes widened.
“Stop pushing yourself. The only thing you have to do is give your body what it needs. Water, rest, and food if you can handle it.”
She panted through parted lips before her tongue slipped out to wet them. For some reason my groin stirred at the sight, and I lost control of my kethra, the crimson glow reflecting from the white stone beside us.
“But… we leave in the morning. I have to be ready, and there’s no one else to do it.”
I hadn’t realized I still cupped her cheek with my palm until she leaned into it, letting her eyes fall closed. My growl faded away, and I let my thumb brush along the dark smudge beneath her eye.
“There is now.”
Her eyelids peeled back again, and she stared up at me, a stunned expression on her face.
I couldn’t seem to pull my hand away, so I reached for my communicator with the other.
I issued an order for a team to come gather her belongings and transport them to the Zeydrassk.
The acknowledgment came swiftly, and I released the button.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do. You’re my responsibility now, which means taking care of you when you’re ill.”