Page 63 of Alien's Eternal Mate

“What are you doing?” I asked. She did not respond. Arael encouraged me to sit down on a divan in our living space. She vanished for a moment, and then reappeared with my Photonic Flute.”

“What’s this about?”

“Play for me,” she said softly. “You are so busy of late, you never get to play any longer.”

It was true, I’d spent too long away from my flute. I ran my hands over the smooth carapace, remembering every curve and notch.

I put the device to my lips and blew. A purplish mass appeared between us, which I quickly refined into an image of Arael, smiling.

“Your control has improved at an incredible rate,” she said in awe.

“Oh please, I’m hardly all that accomplished. Lo can create some magnificent images.”

“You sell yourself too short, beloved.”

My heart soared, and my mood shaped the images I created. The Photonic image of my lifemate changed, her belly distending out and her breasts growing considerably heavier. Startled, I dropped the flute from my lips.

“I…I did not…”

She smiled and caressed my shoulders.

“I see that you have many plans for me once you finish with your duel…”

She kissed me, and I put the flute away for the rest of the afternoon.

The sun stretched long shadows across the floor of our dwelling when Pageus came to call.

“Chief Gro? It is nearly time.”

“I am ready. I will be on the Hill shortly.”

“By your leave.”

Arael grabbed hold of me all the tighter when I attempted to get out of our bed.

“I must go, my love.”

“I know. But my body does not want to release you.”

She held on a moment longer, then let go at last. I slid out of bed and faced her while I dressed.

“You could come and watch the duel.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Lifemates are strictly forbidden. I will remain here.”

“How will you know if I win or not?”

Her lavender eyed gaze grew immeasurably sad.

“I will know. And you should know that you will not be alone in the afterlife for long.”

I gasped, and quickly sat back on the bed, taking her hand.

“No! I don’t care if there is a Masari tradition about the wife committing ritual suicide after her husband’s death. I want you to live, Arael.”

“A life lived without your love is no life at all.”

I squeezed her hand in both of my own and fixed her with my gaze.

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