Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AIRIK
Untouched. Untaken. Unconquered.
Airik viciously repeated the words, tearing out pages of Ed’un’s compendium in tandem as he sat on the ship’s exit ramp. Nearly three hundred pages detailing the failed planet’s flora, fauna, and weather. Not a single word of toxic rain.
Now without his suit—the first instance of a suit that had malfunctioned completely—he was unarmored, wearing only basic trousers and a short-sleeved underskin.
It had to have been the combination of the crash and the waves, because neither alone should have been enough to cause total failure.
Without his suit, he couldn’t use his sword correctly—it countered the weapon’s gravity.
He might as well be unarmed. How could he protect the human, let alone himself?
Stuffing the three pages of navigation charts into his pocket, he then tossed the rest of the compendium out, over the ramp. They withered into pulp.
The plains and forest rested in eerie stillness, along with the acrid smell of whatever the rain was. Shielded by what remained of the ship’s wing, he leaned against the frame.
The skin on his shoulders and hands burned. Not from the rain—he had barely felt even a tingle earlier—but from the memory of Nora’s soft and squirming body all over his. The delicious scent that had blossomed when he’d struck her bottom, trying to silence her.
Shame forced his head down. He hadn’t meant to do it. He had just needed her incessant talking to stop, or else all control would’ve been lost. He hadn’t expected the sweet smell of her desire. And it had to be desire—the scent so strong he could taste it.
His mouth watered. Hungry. Hungry for food. For sleep. For her.
Since leaving her in the shower, his left pointer finger had twitched incessantly. He needed sleep. He needed to get off this prison of a planet. He needed to escape Nora, who undid the carefully drawn threads of his already tenuous sanity.
There was something wrong with the human who’d fallen from the sky.
She had looked at the waves, begging him to let her go, at peace.
As though whatever her life had been was so unbearable that the prospect of death was better than her reality.
Someone like her, without the will to live, was reckless.
He knew because he, too, felt its poison under his ribs at night.
Airik heard the soft padding of feet behind him, a spectacularly failed attempt at stealth.
“You’re walking,” he said, still looking to the dark forests. “Your foot will never heal. I will need to carry you forever. Is that what you want?”
The steps stopped.
Nora cleared her throat. “I brought you some food.”
He went still.
“I haven’t seen you eat yet. I thought maybe you don’t like that weird gel I saw you eat earlier and would prefer what I have. I thought…you’d be hungry after everything that happened.”
Airik turned to her, thinking her words couldn’t have been right. Who worried if or when he ate?
She was dressed in another of his shirts and no trousers—all her own clothing was still wet. So much of her skin was bare.
Raising the tray of her steaming food rations, she smiled. “This won’t be like the apple-cinnamon bar, I promise.”
Her hair, twisted into a rope again, draped over her shoulder and chest. Beneath it, he knew, would be the insignia of the Veynari.
Something within him stirred. Both in his groin and chest.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
“Y-Yes.” She smiled nervously—that maddening lopsided smile.
Beautiful liar.
His chest throbbed as if it had melted and cracked open, painfully exposed. What did this woman think she was doing with him?
“I know you’re not supposed to eat my food, but we’re both fucked anyway, right? You might as well.” She laughed, and by the True Father, he wanted to pull her by her hair to him and run his tongue across her lips. To taste that smile.
Against all three oaths and his better judgment, he said to her, “Come. Show me.”
Nora’s laugh stilled, her skin blooming in shades of pink. The color disappeared beneath her collar. How low would it reach? Would it stop at her collarbones? Or lower, at the top of her breasts? Lower still? What other colors would be revealed to him if she showed him?
“Hurry. I’m hungry,” he said, hoping it would urge the color more. “Or do I need to ask twice?”
Her lip twitched into another smile for him. She came to him, limping.
Accepting that Nora had successfully shattered the first oath and it would be impossible to care for her without touching her, he reached for her, offering a hand to help her down.
As she lowered herself beside him, he considered telling her that sharing food was typically a preamble to breeding.
With nutritious but bland foods, the entire interaction was monitored by a Veynari researcher, who took notes for later study.
It was thought that food and intimacy were inextricably linked, leading to quicker conception in matched breeding pairs.
A pressure built between his legs as he imagined the outcomes of a shared meal between the two of them.
She gasped when he quickly took the tray from her, needing it to cover the effects of what thoughts of feeding Nora from his hand did to him. Unfortunately the tray was hot, adding to the fire.
“It’s cheese tortellini.” Nora pointed at the compartment filled with red liquid and chunks of white tubes rolled into circles.
He stared at the tray. A bubble popped in the thick red fluid she pointed to. This was a mistake. But at least it killed the aching sensation below his belt, one he horrifyingly had no control over.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Nora handed him a hard square with brown paste smeared across it. “Peanut butter on a cracker.”
Hoping it tasted terrible to serve as a distraction, he raised the square to his nose, then prepared to take a small bite.
“Wait!” With surprising speed, Nora smacked the cracker out of his hand.
Every muscle fiber of his body tensed. He caught her hand, holding it captive in front of his mouth. His body, anticipating danger, ached to snap her wrist.
He didn’t let himself move—not yet fully under control—staring at the cracker that had fallen to the ground with a sad little splat. “Not so quick,” he said, voice strained. The scars on his face flared with phantom pain.
She remained still, offering no resistance. Thank all that was holy for that. Otherwise instinct might’ve overcome the more frustrating compulsion to keep her safe.
“I just remembered.” He heard her lick her lips. “W-What if you’re allergic to peanuts? I don’t want you to get sick—or accidentally kill you.”
The edges of his vision trembled. It was difficult to breathe. Why couldn’t he let her go?
With her free hand, she raised a shallow-bowled utensil in the safe space between them, beneath where he held her. She’d loaded it with one of the round tubes. “Try this instead—the cheese tortellini, since it’s the main meal. It’s probably safer.”
Airik forced his fingers to uncurl from her wrist. Before she could change her mind and reach for him again, he took the spoon from her and shoved it into his mouth.
The tube’s skin broke easily between his teeth, releasing a lumpy, dense center. Salty. Tangy. Disgusting.
Chewing slowly, he eyed the pinkening ring around her wrist where he’d grabbed her.
Nora sat oblivious, with a sweet smile, as if he hadn’t just nearly broken her arm.
Making a noise, he gagged—either from the thought of hurting her or from the awful taste of tortellini. But sensing Nora tense beside him, he forced himself to swallow, willing to die by cheese rather than reject human food and sadden her again.
She let out a relieved breath. “Oh, good, it didn’t kill you.”
“I cannot be killed.” He took another bite. If he didn’t breathe, the taste wasn’t so bad.
“That’s good news,” she said after a brief pause. “But just in case you’re not, I don’t want to risk you dying from something I fed you.”
Airik nearly choked again as she leaned in across him, focusing on his nose and mouth.
Perhaps it was exhaustion, but Airik felt his lips try to curl into a smile. The scar on his cheek resisted the pull, the sensation so uncomfortable that he willed his lips straight.
Untouched. Untaken. Unconquered. Don’t let her touch you anymore. Don’t take from her. Don’t, don’t, don’t… Don’t do any of the things you so desperately want to do, because all that will follow is misery.
“Am I eating this…wrong?”
“N-No.” Her gaze dropped down. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to stare. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t stop breathing.”
“What if I did?”
“I would…do CPR or something. You know, breathe for you.”
“Breathe for me?” A warmth simmered low in his groin as he imagined how she’d share her breath with him. Picking up a bag from the tray, he sniffed the hot black liquid sloshing inside. It had a sharp odor. Maybe this would kill him, along with whatever feeling was rising in his chest.
Nora hummed happily as he took a small sip of the bitter liquid from the tube inserted in its side. He didn’t hate this one. “How long would you breathe for me?” It was a mistake to encourage her, but he was so tired—it made him weak to the desire to hear her voice more.
“Um…until I pass out, probably. Which would only take a few minutes.” Her hands wrung in her lap. “So…in the end, you’d probably die anyway— Actually, you know what?” Despite his warnings, she reached across him, trying to take the tray from his lap.
Grabbing both of her hands in one of his, he narrowed his eyes, letting his fangs slip out. “I thought you were sorry. Show you are and listen better.”
She gaped, her eyes locked on his mouth. “This was a bad idea. We have no idea what Earth food will do to you. And you’re right. I’m sorry. And I don’t want to be sorry…more.”