Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Shathar
I think my human woman might be a genius. Of course there is a simple way to determine which of us is honest. And I am happy to show off my nalopo to her. Once she sees the truth, she’ll be mine, and Khesan will get sent back to Arshur.
That, oddly, gives me a sick feeling. I have also grown quite used to him, and at least for a few days, we got along. But there can only be one of us at the end of this trial marriage, and I am intent on it being me.
So, I unbutton my jeans and drag down the zipper. Khesan stares at me as I do it, and I gesture for him to do the same. With a heavy swallow, he glances once more at Fiona, then nods his head.
“Fine.”
He follows suit, sliding his pants down. My gaze is drawn to his groin as he reveals his cock, and my hands come to a halt.
Vakha. Sure enough, the recognizable ridges of the nalopo trail along the length of his shaft, from base to tip.
How is this possible?
Awestruck, I drag my jeans the rest of the way to my knees, and my own cock emerges. Khesan’s eyes jump down to it, and then they go wide as plates when he sees the truth that I, too, have the nalopo.
Somehow, we have both bonded to Fiona. Somehow, she is not only my fated mate, but his, too.
My heart thuds wildly in my chest when I realize what this means. One of us will have to leave at the end of this, according to Earthling law—which would lead to a life without the other half of our souls. Once an Arshurian bonds to their fated mate, they will never stray, never find another lover.
Whichever one of us loses will be sentenced to a miserable, lonely life back on Arshur.
“What am I looking at?” squeaks Fiona, glancing between us and then down at our exposed members.
“This is the nalopo,” Khesan explains, running his hand down his cock, thumb over the nalopo. “These ridges are new. They only develop when we smell our fated mate.”
“But… you both have them?” She looks confused. “How?”
I quickly put myself away, zip up my jeans, and refasten them. Panic starts racing through my blood. This is no longer a sure thing for me.
“I don’t know,” answers Khesan, his gaze finding mine. The impossible has happened, and the competition has leveled between us.
What do we do?
Hurriedly, Khesan tucks himself back in, and we both sit down at the table. Fiona joins us, her expression puzzled.
“Does this mean you’re both fated to be with me?”
I nod, and so does Khesan. We are both too horror-struck by this news to speak. Silence settles over the table as Fiona glances between us.
Before, I believed there was no chance I’d be sent home, no way I would ever have to give up my mate. But now, I’m not so certain.
A strange pallor falls over the day after that. Both Khesan and I are troubled, and Fiona has no assurances for either of us.
What a cruel trick for the gods to play.
She has to return to work the next day, but it’s the only one until “New Year’s.” That’s when the human calendar will change over from one year to the next.
I look forward to getting to spend more time with Fiona, though I’m not sure what that will look like now. My fury toward Khesan has gone numb since we learned the truth. No wonder he also believed he was meant to be here.
We both are, for some reason. But the little matchmaker was clear that one of us will have to return to Arshur mateless. That eventuality will not be pleasant for anyone.
Despite the mood, we run “errands,” as Fiona calls it. We flit from one store to the next, shopping for groceries, picking up supplies for the party, and buying more alcohol.
I am both anxious and excited for the Christmas party, as I’m not sure what the customs are. And I will meet even more of Fiona’s friends, who may, like Marguerite, be judging which one of us is better for her.
I can’t underestimate the importance of others’ opinions on her decision. And now, the stakes of that decision have just gotten much higher.
When we get home, it’s time to decorate. Fiona gives us rolls of thin paper in bright, flashy colors to drape around the house, then she starts hanging huge snowflakes from the ceiling. Khesan and I work together to put up the streamers, and then it’s time to decorate the outside of the house.
“This is trickier,” Fiona says, clearly uncertain as she picks up a huge box of lights. “Someone will have to get up on the tall ladder to hang these.”
Khesan immediately snaps his claws. “I will do it.”
I’m fine with that, because I’m not particularly fond of heights.
Snow begins to fall as we erect the ladder out front.
Fiona and I pass the lights up to Khesan, and he hangs them from the eaves.
It’s a tedious process: first, he has to come down, then we move the ladder, and then he goes up again.
But eventually we get one string of lights across the ground floor of the house.
Then we move on to the second floor. We have to extend the ladder farther, and the sun is getting low in the sky, leaving less light to work by. I feel an unfurling of nervousness in my belly as Khesan climbs up to the very top to hang the lights.
As if I had predicted it, Khesan slips. He lets out a cry as his feet leave the step of the ladder. He reaches out to grab a rung with his hands, but he can’t get a grip and continues his tumble downward.
Before I’ve even instructed my feet to move, I’m underneath him. I barely have time to get my arms out before he smashes into them, and the velocity and force of his fall makes me stumble. I hit the ground, and there’s a sharp pain in my elbow as Khesan’s larger weight lands on it.
“Vakha!” I howl, that sharp pain spreading up my arm. Khesan rolls off of me, and grunts as he tries to get to his feet. Fiona rushes over to us, grabbing Khesan’s arm to help him up.
“Shathar!” She gets down on her knees to offer me a hand, too. “Are you all right?”
I take her hand with my good arm and she pulls me up to a sitting position. My injured arm is still throbbing, but when I test it, I don’t think it’s broken.
“I’m all right.” Then I glance at Khesan, who is still bent over, panting. “Are you?”
He nods, but he’s clearly rattled. Then he glances up at me, and his expression is pained. “I would be a lot more injured if it weren’t for you.”
I nod, as this is true. I rub my elbow to see if there’s any damage, but I think it’s just bruised.
“Show me,” says Fiona, so I do, extending it out to her. She pushes up my sleeve and frowns at it. “It’s turning blue.”
“That’s all right.” I push my sleeve back down. “It will heal.”
Fiona squints at me. “Okay. Let’s get inside and warm up, then make sure neither of you need an ER visit.”
Inside, Fiona heats up water and makes both of us a “hot cocoa,” which is a chocolate powder mixed into the hot water with a few hardened marshmallows on top. It’s not unpleasant, though, and it feels good going down my throat compared to the cold weather outside.
Khesan’s leg hurts after the fall, so Fiona examines it, testing the knee to make sure nothing is severely damaged. But I think, like me, he’s just badly bruised.
I’m up next, and we determine that my bones aren’t broken, either. We are just both a bit “banged up,” as Fiona says.
She sits back in her chair and sighs with relief. “All right, no more hanging lights. Can’t risk another fall.”
Khesan frowns. “I want to finish tomorrow. For the Christmas party.”
“But…” Fiona’s brows crease. “It’s dangerous.”
“I am no stranger to danger. When it is light out and dry, we will try again.” He glances at me. “Right, Shathar? You will hold the ladder so I don’t fall.”
I nod in agreement. I’m happy to do this if it means preparing the house properly for the party. Besides, I like the lights we’ve already hung up, and I think it will look much better with more.
Fiona sighs and shakes her head, but agrees anyway.
For the rest of the night, she insists on a calm and relaxing activity, so we all sit on the couch to watch one of her favorite shows on the television.
I sit to her left and Khesan to her right, each of us craving her touch.
Perhaps tonight, since we haven’t been drinking, she would be open to coming downstairs.
I long for more, to touch her and kiss her and explore her lovely body.
When it’s bedtime, I discover Fiona has fallen asleep between us.
“I will carry her to bed,” says Khesan. “As I am the stronger one.”
“You injured your leg. You shouldn’t put that much weight on it.” I get up and slide my arms under Fiona, then lift her up. “I will do it.”
Khesan grumbles, but accepts. He limps up the stairs ahead of us and I’m glad I put my foot down.
“You will put her to bed?” he asks.
I nod. “Rest your leg. I’ll take care of our mate.”
He arches an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t say anything else as he closes his door.
When I am inside Fiona’s room, I lay her down on her bed. She is still in her clothes, which will be uncomfortable as she sleeps. I puzzle over what to do. Should I undress her? That would surely be violating her privacy.
While I’m pondering, Fiona’s eyes blink open, and she registers me standing over her. A smile spreads across her face, and she reaches out to me.
“Cuddles?” she asks. The translator brings up an image of two people curled up around one another in a bed, and I jump at the opportunity.
“Yes. I would love that.”
“Do you mind if I undress?”
My cock responds immediately to her question, but I try to will it down. “Not at all.”
First, Fiona pulls off her shirt, revealing her breasts held in by a bra. Then she takes off her pants, tossing both of them to the floor.
“May I also take off my jeans?” I ask. “They will be uncomfortable for cuddling.”
She nods agreeably, then smiles. “I’ve already seen your junk, so no problem.”
I tilt my head. “Junk? As in refuse?”
Fiona giggles. “It just refers to, um, your genitals.”
I won’t even begin to try to comprehend that one.
After Fiona wiggles under the blankets, I climb into the bed, too, and wrap my arms around her. She sighs as she settles into my embrace.
“This is nice,” she murmurs, burying her face in the hollow of my throat. “You’re so warm. I thought you would be cold-blooded.”
I snort. “Cold blood? Is that possible?”
“It is a weird phrase, isn’t it?” She giggles.
“Indeed.”
Fiona’s hands land on my chest, and she hums in pleasure as she touches me. I am more than happy to be the recipient, so I hold still as she trails her hands down my abdomen, then back up again.
“Your scales are so smooth,” she hums.
“Did you expect them to be hard?”
“I guess so.”
Fiona leans back and tilts her head up, and it’s clear she’s awaiting a kiss, so I oblige.
This feels much more natural now, and I am learning what she likes.
I nip her lip, then press mine more firmly against hers.
Fiona’s hands wind around my neck as we kiss, and soon, her body is flush with mine.
My cock emerges from its slit and rises in anticipation.
I know she can likely feel it thickening between us, but she doesn’t say anything.
In fact, she deepens our kiss, and now I am fully hungry for her.
My breaths come faster as Fiona pulls away from the kiss. Her eyes are alight, sparkling, and her mouth is tilted up in a grin.
“Can I touch you?” she asks. “You know… there?”
I do not know where, but I would be happy for her to touch me anywhere.
“Do whatever you please.”
That grin widens as her hands skim down my body to my hips, where they brush the tip of my cock. I bite my lip to keep in my groan at just this slight touch. But Fiona isn’t finished. Once she finds it, she wraps her delicate fingers around my shaft, and I’m almost undone by it.
Keep calm, I tell myself. We are merely exploring each other.
It is difficult, though, to keep my instincts under control as she strokes me once, then twice, her palm traveling over the ridges of my nalopo.
My eyes roll back in my head as her hand moves faster, and I grip her hips in my claws to keep me rooted to the bed.
“That is very good,” I manage, and it comes out strangled.
“Is it?” Emboldened, Fiona squeezes harder as she pumps my cock, and I realize that I’ve been holding in so much that it won’t be long before I come.
“Fiona,” I growl, just before I burst. I can’t help a loud moan as I’m overtaken by a powerful orgasm. My seed spills out, and Fiona squeaks in surprise as it coats her hands.
“I’m sorry.” I pull back the blankets to get a better look, and I’m surprised by how much I ejaculated.
But Fiona just looks amused, and she rolls over to grab a tissue from the box by her bed. She wipes down her hands and then, with utmost gentleness, wipes me clean as well.
That’s when the door abruptly flies open, and Khesan storms inside, his eyes narrowed dangerously. When he sees both of us in the bed together, his brows lower and his fans spread open. His voice comes out an angry roar.
“What are you doing?”