“So soft,” he murmurs, frowning at the wound.
I don’t know if it’s a criticism or an observation. I’m suddenly unable to think with him so close. Too close. This isn’t appropriate. I’m his employer. Wouldn’t this be frowned upon? Do those rules even matter when you’re on Hudo III? Does it even matter?
“Hold still,” he rumbles, his voice vibrating through me. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he takes one finger to the thorn. I hiss. “You’ve got a nasty flesh tearer here. It’s in deep.”
His breath is warm against my ear and I can’t breathe. “It’s nothing,” I murmur, but the sting in my palm tells me otherwise. Leave it up to me to injure myself on my second day of being here. Hopefully, New Horizons isn’t using me as a test dummy to see how other humans will fare on this new world. I don’t want to make them think we’re not up for a new life. A new home.
Zynar grunts, bringing my attention back to him even though I’m trying to focus on anything but him. Like the rise and fall of his chest against my back as he breathes. Or how he’s fit around me so well it’s like we’ve been in this position before and it’s second nature now.
I have to remind myself that he’s not human and him wrapping himself around me like this is probably not strange to him. Shit, if this was on Earth and my roofer did this, I’d be thinking he wants to take me to bed. It’s unnecessarily close. If I even move my hips a little, I’m sure my behind will be rubbing against his cock.
“Look at me, pretty Liora.” Words that make my gaze shift up to his, my heart stuttering a beat. Why’s he saying those things? Calling me pretty when it’s been clear most aliens think my kind is hideous. I wasn’t even called that back on Earth where I supposedly belong.
My brain takes this opportunity to bring up a memory I’d rather forget. Me standing in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom, smoothing down the fitted red dress I’d bought. My ex-husband walks by, adjusting his tie. Doesn’t even glance at me. I push away my disappointment. He’s distracted. This is his big night, after all. This isn’t about me. Tonight, after years, he makes partner. And so I push my disappointment away, hurrying from the mirror as I hear him call my name down the stairs.
“Coming!” I remember shouting. Stepping down the staircase, I felt like a queen in that dress. I couldn’t help it. I had to ask. “How do I look?” He barely glances at me. In fact, he grumbles. Frowns. Appears annoyed that I’m distracting him.
I push away the disappointment again. I remind myself tonight is his night. But then, at the party, some young blonde waltzes by us. Vivacious. Skin glowing. In her prime.
“Patrick!” she beams, coming to a stop. “Congratulations!” Her gaze shifts to me and she smiles. I return the greeting even though my darling husband doesn’t even attempt to introduce us. I have nothing against the pretty lady. But her face is a blur because all I remember seeing is that we were wearing the same dress. All I remember seeing is how my now ex-husband’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, Rachel.” Hunger rises in his eyes. Eyes that haven’t looked at me like that in so long. “You look absolutely divine tonight.”
She blushes, doing a small curtsy as her date comes by her side.
“I can see why you’d say that, Patrick,” he says, eyes twinkling as they land on me. “After all, our gorgeous women have impeccable taste.”
Patrick had looked at me then, as if only just noticing what I was wearing. His eyes flickered with irritation, a subtle but unmistakable shift. He gave me a cursory glance, the kind you’d give to someone who’d just spilled wine on your shoes, and then turned his attention back to Rachel. “Well, isn’t this just…something,” he said, his tone flat and dismissive. “Rachel, you look stunning.”
The compliment hung in the air, a stark contrast to the cold shoulder I was receiving. Patrick barely spared me another look, his focus entirely on Rachel. The moment was a clear reminder of how far apart we had drifted, how invisible I had become to the man who once couldn’t take his eyes off me.
The disappointment I’d been pushing down all evening threatened to choke me. The rest of the night was a blur of polite smiles and forced conversations, each one a reminder of how invisible I felt. And just like my hand right now, my heart bled.
Because at that moment, I realized this wasn’t just his party. It was mine too. I’d been there by his side for twenty years. Two decades spent being his support. Being the one to go to his boss to apologize for his rotten behavior. Being the fool who believed in him when others didn’t. I’d been there in the shadows, being the rock he needed.
It was my party too.
I’d been called gorgeous that night in a sort of backhanded way, but it wasn’t enough. I’d spent years in the background, supporting a man who didn’t see me anymore. That night, as I watched him fawn over Rachel, I realized how diminished I’d become, and how much of my identity I’d sacrificed in the process.
But now, I’m here on Hudo III, with the most attractive male I’ve ever seen telling me I’m pretty.
Why? Why is he calling me that and why’s he calling me Liora? I want to ask those questions even though the answers might not be ones I can bear. But as I look up into those slitted yellow eyes, every part of me ignites. Zynar holds my focus, his gaze engulfing me like I’m about to be consumed. He distracts me enough that when he suddenly pulls the thorn from my palm, I barely make a sound.
“There,” he whispers, his gaze shifting over my face, almost as if he’s documenting my features again.
When he suddenly brings my wounded hand up to his lips, I don’t react fast enough. At first, I don’t react at all. Zynar’s mouth closes over my palm and I feel his hot tongue on my skin.
I finally jerk in surprise, reflex causing me to pull my arm toward me, but he holds it fast, tongue swirling over my palm in a way that makes my spine tingle.
“Zynar,” I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. “W-what are you doing?”
His eyes meet mine, intense and unwavering. “Kari saliva has healing properties,” he explains softly, his lips brushing against my skin. “It will help.”
I can barely breathe as he continues, the sensation both strange and oddly soothing. But underneath that soothing swirl, is a bolt of electricity going to a place that hasn’t been touched by anyone except me for a long, long time. His touch, his proximity, everything about this moment feels surreal.
I clear my throat, clawing for some semblance of the intelligence God gave me. “You don’t have to,” I whisper, but he simply shakes his head.
“I’m the only male within your proximity. Unless you have a mate hiding somewhere in that lodge…”