Page 144 of I'm Not Your Pet

A lot of the kids were my size, which was embarrassing to say the least, but no less fascinating as the group of people crowded around us.

There were so many of them I’d lost count.

It was a testament to how tired I was that it took me as long as it did to realize that the adults were Roark’s siblings. The other children that had been raised at the orphanage. And he…fuck. My big softie had built a house for all of them to raise children of their own.

Roark grunted in greeting, as stoic as ever. He’d shared a few words, but that was it. A simple handful, as he butted snouts with a few of them, before saying his goodbyes and promising to properly introduce me after we’d had some rest.

The children were as curious as Earth kids were. Because a few of them latched onto my toes, their spots green. I didn’t fault them, in fact, I chuckled as their snort-y little noses puffed hot air on my legs, teeth far too close for comfort.

Roark rumbled, a low menacing warning, and the children just continued to giggle. They clearly were not afraid of him.

When the fanfare had ended, the crowd watched on as Roark led me around the back of the large home and through what had to be the prettiest garden I’d ever seen. Full of blossoms so large they could’ve been melons—striped and lovely.

There was a cottage past the garden.

Much smaller than the main house, and with a lovely cobblestone path of its own. It lay tucked between a smattering of large trees. Their leaves were so pale and puffy they looked like cotton candy as they swayed toward us, the twinkling of a little waterfall trickling into the small pond right outside the front door.

One of the frog-like creatures had sat on a lily pad in the center of the pond. It blinked one eye, then the other, its tongue launching out to catch a fat bug, before pulling it into his mouth.

“I love him,” I’d told Roark immediately, totally captivated.

He’d laughed. “I knew you would,” he’d said softly, adjusting his grip on my body as we climbed the little steps to the front door. The house was far bigger than a cottage on Earth would be to accommodate his size. But it was cozy.

Cozy and perfect—exactly the kind of home I’d always wanted.

When we’d entered it was clear that one of Roark’s “siblings” had been maintaining it while he was away. There wasn’t a hint of dust in sight. Nor was there any clutter. Just like his room on the ship, however, constellations and posters lined the walls—making it obvious how much of a space-nerd he really was.

I’d taken it all in with astonishment, though my eyes were already drifting.

Roark was simply…comfortable.

He always had been.

“Rest,” he’d hummed, leading me through the front room, down a hallway, and to the back where a large, lovely bedroom lay. In the center was a bed—just like the one on the ship—and beside it was a nightstand, again, just like the one on the ship.

Roark was a creature of habit after all.

He’d stripped down and didn’t even take us to the shower before we snuggled into the mattress, the long journey behind us. As my eyes had drooped, and Roark’s steady breathing lulled me into a sense of calm, I’d gazed at the pool that took up half the room, and melted.

For the first time in my life, I’d found a home.

A real home.

And someone that loved me just as fiercely as I loved them.

Our wedding ceremony had been the stuff of fantasies.

Everyone had come.

And by everyone—I mean literallyeveryone.

And yet Roark only had eyes for me the entire night.

He’d swung me around the dance floor, as awkward as he’d been at the ball we’d attended during our travels. And neither of us had cared what a mess we made of the steps—as we’d mimicked the others and enjoyed the festivities the night had to offer.

Apparently Roark had been preparing our ceremony before we’d even left Sha’hPihn.

Which was…flattering to say the least.

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