Page 19 of Alien's Eternal Mate

“Yes, I think so. Thank you, Arael.”

She nodded, wringing her hands. Then she gasped, her eyes opening wide as dinner plates.

“Oh no, I forgot your drink! Forgive me, milord.”

She rushed into the kitchen.

“It’s alright…this is growing burdensome and annoying.”

I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen, and then returned a moment later bearing a metal goblet filled with a dark purple liquid, and a coil of braided leather. She handed me the drink, which I gratefully took and drained in one go. I gasped, no longer parched.

She took the empty goblet from my hand, her whole body trembling. Then she handed me the coil of braided leather.

“What’s this for…is this a whip?”

“I thought you would want to punish me, milord, for forgetting your drink.”

Her eyes held a mix of fear and apathetic, yet miserable acceptance.

She’s been living in horror. Any sympathy I might have had for this Gro whose body and life I have usurped just went extinct.

“I will not beat you for a simple oversight, if it can even be called that. Put this away. I do not wish to see it again.”

She looked at me for a long time, and then took the braided leather back and walked away. I think she was more confused than grateful. When she returned, she licked her lips and seemed to struggle to speak.

“What is it you want to say, Arael?”

“I…it is nearly time for the evening meal.”

“That sounds good. Um, am I supposed to cook it, or?—”

“Oh no, milord! I’ll take care of it, and I’ll do a good job, I promise.”

She ran back into the kitchen. Our evening went like that as the hours wore excruciatingly on. Arael was terrified of making the slightest error, and apologized profusely for, well, basically existing.

I’d spent some time watching outside the window, and looking at the way the other aliens behaved. While it was obvious that there was a division of roles based on gender in this society, it was also obvious that most of the women were not miserable, fearful wretches like Arael.

The food she made me was some kind of stew. I couldn’t identify the different crunches and soft bits but it proved incredibly satisfying. I got up and helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen. I wanted to help, but I also had some curiosity as to what their kitchen looked like.

There was the usual assortment of grills, ovens, and prep stations familiar to species who prepared their meals in advance. There were also things I could not identify, but had the wear and tear of daily use so they must have served some vital function.

I was intrigued to see that we had running hot and cold water in addition to power. I didn’t have a compad to do a full analysis, but I believed the water to be galactic standard, two hydrogen and one oxygen molecule. It certainly felt and tasted that way.

Arael gave me a wide berth in the kitchen. She practically jumped out of her skin whenever I brushed against her. Annoyance soon overwhelmed the pathos.

“Arael, sit down.”

She grabbed a nearby three legged stool and settled on it with the speed of fear, her eyes looking up at me with dread.

I squatted down so that we would be on eye level. If I’d done that in my human body, my knees would have ached and maybe even buckled. Gro’s physique made it easy. I thought I could at least enjoy the physicality of my new form while I had it.

“I know that you’re afraid of Gro…afraid of me. But Gro, the Gro you knew, is gone. I’m someone else now, and I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Her mouth fell open as she stared at me.

“It is your right to discipline me, milord.”

“Maybe it’s a right, but that doesn’t make it right.”

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