Page 107 of Emerald

I shoot Olivia a smug flash of skin, letting a low chitter rumble through my chest. "I told you to stop doing that."

She snorts out a breath, then looks at me, skin lighting back to orange. Suddenly, her eyes are far more intense and her skin lights up blue.

“What does that color mean?” she asks.

I’m confused for a moment, skin also lighting blue, but then I look down and see the streaks of black mixed in with it and my tusks drop open.

I stare, mesmerized. I haven’t seen black on a zhasie since my zhann…

“Kroaicho,” Olivia says. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

When I look up, her skin is pulsing red in fear.

“No, I mean, yes. I am well. Black means…” I trail off, not knowing the word.

“What?” Olivia prompts.

“The closest, biggest emotion possible,” I explain, looking back at the dark patterns.

“Love?” she asks, voice soft.

I don’t know the word, but when I glance back up, I see black swirls mixed with orange on her skin and I know whatever word it is, must be the right one.

I point a claw at her. “Yes.Love,” I agree.

She looks down at her hands, using a finger to trace the black swirls as they solidify into full, dark expressions of feeling between us.

“Two, not one,” she says in a whisper and it sends the same thrill through my segments as it did last night.

With a wide human smile, she looks back up. “Apparently, Iloveyou. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Go to my… that makes no sense,” I point out.

She rolls her eyes again, then yelps, holding her eyes.

“I will keep reminding you to not do that,” I tell her.

“Forever?” she asks, voice light.

“If needed, but I hope you will learn faster than that,” I reply, then let out a shocked breath when her tentacle tail whacks me in my middle segment.

She is laughing now. “Like you learned about your hoard?”

“What hoard?” I ask as I carefully ignore the pile that has already started in the corner, skin lighting up yellow despite my attempts to stop it.

Zha moves around me. “How about I just rearrange this little—”

I whip around, arms reaching out imploringly as her laughter reaches a higher pitch. She is hopping around my hoard, six limbs gyrating in an odd rhythm when I realize it is a joke.

“I should have tossed you in that chasm you were sleeping next to when I had the chance,” I grumble, skin lighting up white in contradiction to my statement.

“Don’t worry,” she chants out. “There will be other chasms.”

39

Preview of Ruby

Szhe’ka

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