Page 46 of Sheltered in the Storm

I kissed his chest. “Not a single regret, other than the obvious ones.”

I sensed him frown. “What are the obvious regrets?”

“That I didn’t get to suck your cock,” I murmured, a little crossly because he should have been able to figure that one out. “And that I’m not healed enough to be fucked by it either.”

His chest shook with what I realized was silent laughter. I smiled.

“Soon,” he promised. His tentacles ran over my arms and legs, tasting and smelling me thoroughly, before embracing meonce more. “I want that very much, but we must be careful and mindful of your recovery above all else.” He kissed my hair, picked up a washcloth and a bar of homemade soap, and went to work getting me clean.

CHAPTER 16

VOS

My Calla fellasleep before I finished bathing her and washing her beautiful hair. And for the first time since arriving at my home, she did not squirm or whimper in pain and even smiled slightly as she slept.

She did not stir when I rose from the tub, dried us both, and took her to the bed. Once I settled her under the covers, I did two things I rarely did: I drew the curtain over the window and closed the door that separated the bedroom from the rest of the house. I wanted Calla to rest in dim light and quiet.

Before I covered the window, I glimpsed Poe outside keeping watch. The heavy rain had eased and become more of a mist. She would happily guard our home for the remainder of the day, eating small creatures that entered the yard, tending her garden, and humming to herself.

My companion would likely be quite satisfied with this turn of events. Not half as satisfied as I was, however—nor a tenth as happy. My hearts felt full to bursting, and not just because I hadgiven my mate orgasms that made her shake and scream in ecstasy.

Calla wanted me in bed next to her. Wanted my arms and tentacles around her. Wanted my cum on her lips and my cock in her mouth and cunt. And not only could I ease her worry and pain with a sound I made only for her, I could bring her to release with my touches alone. Shewasmy mate. The joy of that simple fact threatened to overwhelm me.

I had earned her trust. If I could earn her heart, I would want for nothing. Even now, a deep contentment filled me, healing aches and hollowness I had thought would pain me for all my days.

Moving quietly, I took a box from under the bed and settled in beside my sleeping mate with my back against the wall. Two of my tentacles immediately slipped under the covers to coil around her arm and lower leg. Another wave of perfect tranquility swept through me as they drank in her taste and scent. The other two settled around her blanket-wrapped form, cradling and guarding her.

I took the lid off the box and withdrew a sewing kit and Calla’s flight suit, washed clean. I had not had much time to repair her only piece of clothing, but with a few hours’ work, I believed I could have it ready to wear. The material was extremely durable. Once I sewed it back together and patched the holes, she would no longer be forced to wear sheets taken from the bed as clothing. A man who preferred to avoid going into the village as much as possible became handy in many skills, including thread-craft.

I could go into town and purchase attire for her, but the shopkeepers would want to know why I needed clothing to fit a human woman. The longer I kept her presence secret, the safer we would be.

As I mended the cuts I had made in her uniform to remove itfrom her injured body the night I first brought her home, I watched Calla sleep and listened to the rain. Another few weeks and the rainy season would give way to drier months. My garden would fill with fruits and vegetables to replenish my stores of food. The ocean would warm, thenuoiasand hurricanes would come less frequently, and life on Iosa would be close to paradise.

No, it would be paradise itself, because Calla was here.

Distracted by the thought, I stabbed the pad of my left index finger with my sewing needle. A bead of violet blood welled up.

Memories of Calla’s first night in my home flooded my mind: her mangled arms and legs, her cuts and bruises, her fractured jaw and skull. The list of injuries on the scanner’s screen that went on and on and ended with the prediction that she had less than one percent chance of survival.

My desperation had been a living thing that night, a monster of its own capable of nearly unspeakable things. It snapped its teeth and snarled at me, howling that if I failed to save Calla’s life that my own life was not worth having. I had resorted to an utterly desperate measure: sharing my blood and willing it with all my might and existence to do what the contents of my medical kits could not. My rage had only been quelled when Calla began to heal before my eyes and then miraculously survived the night.

And yet that greatest miracle of my life seemed to pale in comparison to what we had shared today and the closeness that had developed between us.

Now I had a chance to make her the center of my universe. I could not waste it by doing any less than everything in my power to ensure she was as happy and content in my presence as I was in hers.

Rather than get up and force my tentacles to relinquish their hold on my mate, I wiped my bloody finger on my pants leg. AsI bent my head again over my task, I envisioned each stitch as another step toward my future with a fierce and tender woman who had called me a beautiful monster as if that was a very good thing to be.

Much to my surprise,Calla slept soundly all day and through the night. She had not done so since her first days with me. She did not seem to be in distress, only tired. I stayed close, leaving her side only to eat a quick meal and tell Poe that we were lying down together. Poe was quite happy to stay on watch and leave us to our rest.

Just after midnight, I finished mending Calla’s uniform and joined my mate under the covers, moving carefully so I did not wake her. She murmured and turned to face me in her sleep, snuggling close with her nose against my chest as if she wanted to breathe in my scent as much as I wanted hers.

I fell asleep not long after, almost drunk on the feeling of my mate in my arms and her warm breath on my skin. And I experienced no nightmares—only dreams of Calla.

Just after the sun’s rise, I woke from the most rejuvenating sleep I had enjoyed in recent memory to find another miracle: my Calla wrapped in a sheet, standing next to the bed.

Standing. Unaided.

I rolled to my feet so quickly that I had no memory of actually moving. “Calla!” I gripped her upper arms, my tentacles plucking at her sheet in worry. “What are you doing?”

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