Chapter 5
Vytln
It had been years since Vytln felt like this. Torn up and conflicted. It seemed like nothing had changed, yet somehow, at the same time, nothing was the same anymore.
“You doing that are wrong.”
Turning, he glared over his shoulder at the source of the change.
His pest. Still locked up in his mating trap. It was her prison. His prison as well. They didn’t have a brig in the Humility. They didn’t take prisoners. But they couldn’t deal with this little female the way they would a normal prisoner.
She also couldn’t be trusted to walk around on her own since they couldn’t keep Alred’s eyes on her, and she clearly knew how to evade all of them.
His mating trap, unfortunately, was the best place to keep her.
It was secure, it was easy for him to watch, she couldn’t get out of it, but he could bring her food, and it had everything she needed to survive.
She could theoretically stay in there forever, or until she told them how she did it.
Tanin would not free her without that information, without being able to plug that security hole.
If she could do it, then others could as well, and that was a weakness he couldn’t allow.
Beyond that, Vytln also had the problem that he could feel his mating instincts. They were beating at him with the force of a hammer. Battering his body and mind, tormenting him just by sheer virtue of her being there.
Only the fact that he had felt this before, that he knew what to expect, kept him from climbing in there and sealing this bond.
But it was harder and harder to ignore the urge, the desire, the choking force of the primal need to claim his female.
Because he not only knew what it was to have a female in his trap, he also knew what it was to have that female stolen from him.
And it didn’t matter the circumstances of that time, or that this was completely different, or that he didn’t even want to claim her – the fact remained that he had a female and he had to claim her.
But he didn’t even know this female. Sure, maybe ancient lvtl males, in times before they were civilized, created traps for any female that might fall into them.
They claimed them without concern for what the female wanted or desired.
But it was common in these days to have a particular female in mind when making a trap.
Most females wouldn’t even let themselves be trapped if they found the nest wasn’t personalized enough.
He didn’t know this one. He knew she hadn’t intended to trap herself, she didn’t even know the purpose of the trap. She would not welcome him if he climbed in there with him. Vytln was a violent brute, but that was a line he had never crossed. Nor would he ever.
His instincts, however, didn’t care about any of that. And his cocks hardened, his mind spun, and his heart raced with need that he had to ignore.
So, he suffered. He brought her food and provided her something to relieve herself in – not all that dissimilar to a prison.
No one else could do it, not even one of the other females.
He would not let anyone else close. Not so long as she wasn’t claimed.
It was torture every time he approached and realized her scent had stained the nest – like she was laying her own claim.
And the trap being in his workspace meant that he couldn’t escape her.
The Humility was in the best shape it had ever been – at least since they owned it.
But he still had to do near constant maintenance and repairs.
Especially since he still hadn’t found the busted pipe she mentioned.
Alred confirmed that the level of cleaning mist was suddenly lower than it should be, so he knew she had to be right, there was definitely a leak of some kind somewhere.
But it was beyond both his knowledge and Alred’s sensors.
She knew where it was, but she wasn’t talking.
What she was doing, however, was watching him work from inside the trap and giving him completely unsolicited advice.
She had no fear. She had no shame. No sense of self preservation.
She should be angry, annoyed, something at being confined, but she wasn’t.
She accepted it with a calm sense of unconcern like she not only expected to be locked up, but like it didn’t even bother her.
She popped her head up whenever he entered and watched him, pointing out things she felt he was doing wrong and telling him how she thought it should be done instead.
A pest. She was an absolute pest.
And, infuriatingly, she was often right.
This particular part he was trying to fix was part of the engine.
It came from the right side, it was important because it helped stabilize a series of complex, rotating parts.
It was also small. Compared to his hands, it was practically miniscule.
He needed a specific tool to be able to work on the inside of it without breaking it completely. One he didn’t have.
But if his hands were about half the size, it would be easy to do as she described.
As hers were.
Her advice wasn’t wrong, but it was useless to him. He couldn’t fix this, either the proper way it should be done, or the way she was saying.
“Try through the bottom,” she said, her little hand moving in the hole out of the corner of his eye.
Snarling, he slammed his hand down and glared at her. She didn’t even jump. When she saw that she had his gaze, she smiled, the expression completely unconcerned. “Bottom. Through. Like- whoosh. Then can just twisting the thing-thing from there.”
She didn’t know all the proper names for the tools or parts, but he knew exactly what she meant. And that he couldn’t do it. Holding up his hand, he wiggled his fingers at her.
“And how exactly am I supposed to twisting the thing-thing much less get my hand through the bottom? Hm?”
She blinked, staring at his fingers, like it just occurred to her that his were easily twice the size of hers, if not a bit more.
“Oh.” She looked thoughtful before reaching out the hole. “Letting me. I can twisting.”
He glared at her. “This is not your ship.”
“I can helping.”
“You’ve done enough helping.”
“Let me-e-e,” she said, wiggling her fingers, like she was trying to stretch. “Wanting to.”
Stomping away from his workbench, he came to a halt in front of the trap. She brought her hand back in and smiled at him. Completely unconcerned.
“Can I getting into out now?”
“You are a pest,” he growled,
“Haven.”
“What?”
“My name is being Haven,” she laughed. “Vytln, you are being, yes?”
“Haven,” he repeated. No, that was too pretty for an annoying pest. “I will let you out. But only to fix this part. And you better stay in my sight.”
“Already catching me,” she laughed. “Why running or hiding now?”
He didn’t understand her. Why was she here? What motivation could she possibly have? But maybe if he let her out of the trap for a bit, he’d stop feeling so driven to get in there with her.
The latch that retracted the panels around the hole, opening it back up, was over his head, far outside of the reach of anyone that could possibly be in there. Not only due to distance but because the entrance was set into a concavity, so the latch was curved far up and out of sight.
Pulling on the latch – a half melted and beaten hammer – retracted all the panels. Haven lifted her hands, watching them move with an impressed ‘o’ of her mouth. Opening the hole only made it easier to see her and all her pretty features.
She was even lovelier up close, without the haze of surprise to unfocus him from her face.
She smiled at him, like he hadn’t had her locked up for days in a mating trap she had, in no way, consented to be inside.
Her dual colored lips were such a temptation.
But not as much as her gleaming eyes, shining so prettily in the light of the shields.
Her pert little nose, her long, black lashes, the small cords of her hair that were so different from the females he knew.
They dangled down around her shoulders, the red and gold decadent against her dark skin.
“Thanking you,” she beamed, leaning her head out.
Her smile turned into a contemplative pursing of her lips as she considered the steps that led to the hole. She couldn’t reach them by coming out head first. But the ramp on the inside of the trap made it difficult for her to turn around and come out feet first.
It would be wrong of him to let her struggle coming out. It had nothing to do with his instincts demanding that she was his mate. No male worth the credz of his flesh would let a defenseless female struggle needlessly. That’s all it was.
The justification hadn’t even fully formed in his head when he was reaching into the trap and grabbing her. He put one hand at her waist, the other caught her under the arm. She seemed to weigh nothing at all when he lifted her out. It was almost too easy.
But, by the void, did she fit perfectly against him. The hand under her arm easily slid around to grasp her upper back, his other arm banding around her waist. He had no reason, justification, or excuse to hold her against his chest, but for the fact that it felt so good. So right.
Their bodies were nearly the same color.
But she wasn’t covered in scars. Her skin was so much softer, yielding against him so sweetly.
The heavy, leather jacket she wore with human symbols on it he didn’t recognize made her upper body seem bigger than it was.
But it compressed under the pressure of his arms, highlighting her true size.
Her hands went to his shoulders, holding herself up, as her legs hung in the air, fully off the ground. She blinked at him, surprised to find herself in his arms, but like his trap, she didn’t actually fight against the confinement.
No. She smiled. Again. It took a second. She seemed to contemplate whether she was happy here or not, but seemed to decide that she was and relaxed against him. Her lips curled up and her eyes crinkled.
“Strong,” she said happily. “Can probably be lifting so many engines.”
“I can lift heavy engines,” he agreed, his voice soft.
Let her go, he ordered himself. Put her down. He only pulled her out to get her help fixing that one part. That was all.
All a pale lie. He knew better. He would have said anything for the chance to touch her. Even if it meant taking her out of the trap. It was okay, because she was still confined within his arms, and that was good enough for him.
She was his and as long as she couldn’t escape, that was enough. He would never need to be worried about her being stolen from him.
“Are you mating me now?” She asked, her head cocking. Like the careless way she asked if he was letting her out. As if this was all something completely separate from her.
That, more than his own misgivings, cooled his ardor.
If he was claiming a female, he wanted her to burn for him as much as he did for her.
Never again would he let a female turn from him despite everything he’d done for her.
His instincts demanded he claim her, but her own equanimity halted him in his tracks.
“You were in my trap,” he said. “That is the mating trigger of my people. I have to claim you within my nest to seal the bond.”
She hummed thoughtfully, her foot bouncing in the air, before nodding once. “Okay. Doing it now?”
“Do you not understand what I’m telling you? Mating is permanent. It’s something that binds us together endlessly, for the rest of our lives.”
She shrugged. A human gesture that meant nothing specific but was meaningful in its ambiguity. Not a gesture that should be associated with mating.
“Can I be fixing?” She asked, brightening. “If mating?”
Ah. She thought it was a way out. He clenched his teeth at the realization and set her down. Though she was back on her own feet, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
“You are our prisoner only because of the information you have that we need,” he said firmly and slowly, making sure she understood. “I am not holding you captive to make you agree to mate me. I would not do such a thing. You have knowledge we need from you. That is all. Understand?”
She was looking up at him, her face serious, and nodded. “I understanding. I am not speaking well. I am knowing this. But I am understanding well. But I am no telling you how I do. My secret.”
He rather admired it. That stubborn set of her chin. That hardened look in her eyes. She didn’t speak fluidly, but that didn’t mean she was unintelligent. She was obviously ver intelligent and capable, or she wouldn’t be here.
But that didn’t mean she understood.
“Why are you asking me to mate you then?”
She cocked her head. “Is that not the right thing to doing? Is that not what is suppose to being?”
“Yes. That’s what it means for me. But you’re human…”
She shrugged. Again, such a meaningless, meaningful gesture.
“Do you even want me?” He asked, voice rough. “Are you attracted to me, or are you just saying this because you think you should?”