Page 18 of Alien's Eternal Mate

“No! I mean, yes…I don’t know what I mean.”

I took her by the arms and faced her head on.

“Arael, I’m sorry. You have lost your lifemate, for all intents and purposes. The physicker said my memories are likely gone forever. I can’t change that, and I wish I could.”

I spoke in a rush, the words a tumult gushing from the depths of my soul. It felt strange to speak in such a frank, dare I say earnest manner. I normally hid my intentions in a cloak of enigma. I did not wear my heart on my sleeve or give a great proclamation.

“I am also sorry that Gro…that I killed your father.”

She shook her head, lips forming an inverted U.

“Milord?”

Her confusion gave me pause, until I reasoned it out.

What’s happened to her is perfectly normal in her culture. She can’t fathom anyone apologizing for it. The sooner I can figure out a way to escape this fleshly prison and return to my own body, the better.

“Never mind. Let’s just go home.”

“Yes, Milord.”

She led me over the bridge and through a neighborhood of single family dwellings. The alien settlers had set up shop wherever they could, leading to some haphazard and unique architectural designs.

My house, as it turned out, was fit neatly into a vectoring flap on the crashed starship. We had a rooftop garden with vines that grew up to the top of the decayed but still sturdy flap. It looked as if many of the denizens of the village grew at least some of their own food. Such gardens were common.

Arael opened the door, a metal iris similar to the ones I’d seen in the lunar facility. This renewed my hope that I might be able to find a way home. Once inside, she turned to me yet stared at the floor, rubbing her hands together.

“Is there anything I can get you, milord?”

“Ah, yes, I’m quite thirsty. I could use something refreshing to drink.”

I didn’t ask for water, because who knew if this species even drank water? I could tell they drank something, from the drinking vessels I’d seen in rubbish piles on our journey home.

“Yes, milord.”

She rushed into the kitchen like a whipped dog. I looked around Gro’s house and realized that he had a penchant for what I would have called creature comforts. Like the fur rug next to his fireplace, or the extra cushions on the largest, throne style chair in the main room.

The house was practically just the one room, with a kitchen through an open archway and a sleeping area up in a loft overlooking the main floor. One of the winged harnesses I’d seen earlier hung on a specialized rack over the fireplace. Below it rested a long, lance-like weapon that appeared to be made entirely of an ebon crystal.

I picked it up, and instantly felt my left arm go cold. I gasped as lines of light shot down my arm and into the lance, making it glow from the inside.

“What’s going on? Why do I feel weak?”

Arael ran out of the kitchen, her mouth gaping open.

“You are feeding too much of your Kuri into the spear, milord. You must shut off the flow before it explodes.”

“How do I do that?”

“You just…do it!”

She was clearly flustered. I tried to release the spear, but it remained firmly in my grip. Some side effect of the leeching process? I didn’t have time to puzzle it out.

It sounded to me like it came down to a question of willpower, and that I had in abundance. I imagined the lights traveling down my arm slowing down, then stopping.

I felt the drain slow down to a trickle, and then cease altogether. I released the spear and stepped back from it as if it were a venomous snake.

“Are you all right, milord?”

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