Page 4 of K'Vella

I don't want her in that kind of way, at least not since she told Phial and me she wasn't going to service us when she joined the crew as Jovi and Alik's pleasure crew. My rut is close, though, and it has me doing things I usually wouldn't. Mostly, I check Sloane out like she's a female I might be able to entice into my nest.

Nothing reminds me just how different I dress than when I'm standing across from one of the other crew, and our differences are made abundantly clear. In all fairness, none of us dress like Sloane, just like it used to be that none of them dressed like me.

My leather pants were handmade by my mother, the same as all my other pants. I rarely wear shirts since my blood runs cooler than the others on the ship. Not by much, but even a few degrees can make it feel like I'm sweating.

I keep a fur thrown over my shoulders most of the time. Not for any reason other than it's how the males I grew up dressed. It's always good to have a fur in case a female is cold or needs something soft to comfort her. I've never had the opportunity to offer my services to a female, but it's good to be prepared.

I thought maybe I could help make Avery feel safe since she was experimented on to fit into the role females of my kind are expected to fill. The only time I've seen her since we rescued her, she screamed and hid behind Phial while he tried his best not to hiss at me to get out.

He explained to me afterward it was that I look like the male who experimented on her, who tortured her. That was the day I shaved my beard and began to braid my hair back. If we were on my planet, I'd be getting grief for it, but I'm not there. If there's a chance it'll make my friend's friend less scared of me, I'll do it.

"What's up?" I ask Sloane when it's clear she won't tell me what she wants to tell me unless I ask.

"Your braiding's gotten better," she remarks. "You haven't asked me to do it in almost a week."

I frown down at her, my arms flexing slightly as I stand a little taller. I'm trying to entice her into my bed. I know I'm doing it. She knows I'm doing it. We've both agreed to ignore it. I'm close to a rut, and we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere space while we wait for the Intergalactic Alliance to tell us what to do with Avery.

We've been told the Intergalactic Alliance won't force another planet to offer Avery aid. We don't have the technology on our ship to reimplant her translator or get the slave collar off of her.

Since the Intergalactic Alliance can't help, we have to go through other channels to find a planet willing to help us. Most of them only want to offer their services if Avery goes through a mating or marriage ceremony with one of their citizens. It's been a frustrating time, to say the least.

It only got worse a few days ago when I started feeling the restlessness of a rut and started preening in front of Sloane as though she were a viable option to warm my nest.

"I'm not exactly incompetent at doing my hair," I say with a frown.

Sure, most of the time, I keep it down, maybe tied into a bun on top of my head, but that's not an option any longer. Not if I don't want to scare Avery the next time she's willing to step foot outside of Phial's room.

"It was a compliment." Sloane shakes her head and then moves on to what she was talking about before we came out here. "I think I have a solution to your problem."

"My problem?"

"You know…" She leans in closer and lowers her voice to a whisper. "Your rut."

I growl low in my throat. It's not a menacing sound—quite the opposite, which has me cringing. Thankfully, Sloane's a good friend and knows that many of my reactions to her right now are solely because of my biology and not actual feelings on my end.

Gods, if they were, Jovi and Alik would tear me limb from limb and then throw me out the airlock. They're protective of their bonded female, and I don't blame them one bit. If I had a scent match, I'd never let her leave my sight or away from my touch.

"What solution could you possibly have?" I ask through gritted teeth.

It's not that I don't appreciate her offer of aid, but I don't think she understands that the only thing that's going to make this any better is a female that I can sink into and sate all of this lust on.

Well, that or being put into a coma. It's what I've done every time I've had a rut since leaving my planet, but that isn't a viable option when I can't get to a medical clinic.

Essa, our medic, has resources for plenty of conditions, but there's no way she can keep me under for anywhere long enough for the rut to wear off. Usually, when this happens, I'm gone from the crew for at least three days.

"I got a female for you." Sloane arches a brow and waits for my reaction.

It's almost instantaneous how quickly I begin purring. It's not a sound I let out very often. None of the crew would care if I did, but anytime I've gotten close to purring, I force it back down. It's embarrassing to purr for my friends when I don't have a female to offer the same sound. But when I'm this happy and relieved, the sound is involuntary.

"Who? How?" The questions are out before I can stop them.

There's no way Sloane could get me a female compatible with my species. Rytharian females don't sign up to be pleasure crew members since they're much too focused on finding a male to settle down and breed with.

My kind has evolved over millenniums to be the best at birthing as many young as quickly as possible. However, it also means we're only able to breed with our own species or species that are compatible if they've had their reproductive organs altered. I doubt whoever Sloane found will be of any help with my situation.

"Look, it's technically not very legal, or at least Via told me it's not, so we have to be a little hush-hush about it." Sloane keeps her voice low as she speaks.

It's at this moment that I realize her mates might not even know that she's come to see me. That could be bad news for me, depending on their moods and when they were last inside their mate.

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