Page 2 of Their Human to Entice

“I’m sorry,” I say the words before I can think about them. I don’t know the doctor outside of the monthly appointments where he makes sure I’m still healthy and able to have babies. I don’t even know if I should be telling him sorry since the last thing I heard Simone say to him wasn’t that loving.

I thought Simone was just messing around with one of the Hands. He looks like his whole world is ending right now. I wonder if it was more for him than Simone made it seem. At least I’ll be seeing her in a year. As far as I know, the Hands don’t get to go to the new planet. If they do, I feel like the doctor would be there with her right now.

“I appreciate that, Nia,” the doctor says my name, and it causes my eyes to widen and my lips to part.

The Hands are always so careful about calling us by our numbered names. Not once in my over two years here has a single one of them called me by my given name. The doctor ignores my surprise, though. Instead, he rolls the chair back over.

“Go ahead and open the left side of your gown.”

I let the gown hang open, exposing enough of myself so that he can see the mole. There’s nothing on his face but a calm, determined demeanor that makes me know there’s absolutely nothing he finds erotic about this situation. Which is good because then I’d have to throw up on him. I can’t think of anything grosser than catching the eye of one of the Hands, much less seeing anything lustful in his gaze when I know he’s still heartbroken over Simone. I’d have to hurl on him just for the betrayal.

His eyes track over the mole, and then he turns his eyes up to me. “Do you mind if I touch the area around it?”

“No, go ahead.”

His touch is impersonal, clinical, and, thankfully, fleeting. One moment, he’s touching the skin, narrowing his eyes on the mole, and the next, he’s sitting back up. He says nothing before turning his chair and rolling back to the computer to type more.

“So?” I ask.

He pushes away from the computer again, sparing me a glance over his shoulder as he moves to one of the cabinets. “I need to do a biopsy. Luckily for you, our technology is much better than the technology your human doctors had.”

“A biopsy?” I feel my throat starting to burn and all of the blood leaving my face.

How bad could it be? It’s just a mole. I haven’t been out in the sun in two years, thanks to the world going to shit. Even if I had, it’s not like I’m melanin deficient. I didn’t wear sunscreen very often, but then again, I didn’t ever burn either. To be honest, worrying about this kind of issue, the skin cancer type of issue has never been a concern. Or I didn’t think it needed to be.

I especially didn’t think I’d need to worry about if the Hands wanted me to help another alien species repopulate their tribe. They should’ve been able to tell who has cancer genes, right? I mean, I would imagine a futuristic species would have a way to tell if this was even going to be an issue.

“Yes, a biopsy,” the doctor says, sounding calm somehow even though it feels like my entire world is crumbling around me.

I can’t have cancer. I’m supposed to join Simone and Deja on the new planet. I’m supposed to have a house full of weird alien babies that love me. I mean, I don’t know if I want a house full of weird alien babies, but that’s kind of been shoved down my throat for the last six months. Before the world ended, I was okay with never having kids, but I’ve been told over and over again that I’m going to a planet to have babies. I started to accept it. I didn’t have a say in it, but now that it’s the opposite, I don’t know which one I prefer.

“Nia, are you with me?” The doctor’s in front of me now, a needled syringe in one hand, the other on my shoulder, trying to shake me and get my attention. “The chance of it being skin cancer is low, and the chance of it being worse than anything our medical equipment can handle is near nonexistent. You will survive this, I promise.”

“Good, that’s good.” The words feel hollow as they come out, but I lock my eyes on his and manage to get a single question out. “What is that?”

“A sedative,” he says. His hand on my shoulder moves down my arm to my elbow, where he holds it up and straightens out my arm for me. “I need to put you under so I can get you into a medical pod.”

I nod, all of my thoughts about what this could mean for me threatening to spill out in the form of tears. Even if I do survive, how drastically will my life change? If I have cancer, will I still get to leave this planet? Will I ever see my friends again?

“A12-18,” the doctor’s voice is harder now, and I realize my body’s started shaking. I’m not cold anymore, or maybe I am. Maybe I’m just like the Hands and can’t feel the temperature anymore because there are things that are now so much more important than whether or not the room I’m in is slightly cold. The doctor waits for me to look at him before speaking to me. “No matter what, I will make sure you are with the others.”

“What if—?”

“No matter what.” His gaze is hard and determined as he waits for me to accept what he’s saying.

I take one deep swallow, forcing down my worries. Questions and concerns swim in my mind, but there’s something more pressing. Something I never thought to ask until right now because this Hand is offering to make sure I end up with my friends. I’ve never cared to ask him one of the most important questions to ask a person. “What’s your name?”

“Vexarionaxnoryndrik,” he says. I don’t have a second to ask him if he’s joking or if he’s being serious with how much of a mouthful his name is. He keeps his eyes on mine as he pushes the syringe into my arm, and the world goes dark.

2

Lyath

“Ido not think we should be trying to reseal the house on our own.” I lean against the door frame and admire Beren as he lifts one of the fallen beams from inside the living space.

I could be helping him, or I could continue to ogle my mate as his muscles tense and his pants hug his backside. He discarded his shirt a while ago since his movements were keeping him warm. That was when I moved to the doorway to watch him work in all his glory. He has yet to notice that I have been no help and have only been watching him, and I’m sure as soon as he notices, I will have to pay. Perhaps that is what I want, though.

Beren lifts the beam over one of his shoulders and turns to face me, his eyes narrowing when he sees the smile on my lips. “What are you doing?”

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