Page 7 of Bred By Zyros
He only stares, lifting his finger to hover over what I assume is the launch control. My heart flips into my throat as I scramble into my seat beside him, one having risen from the ground only moments before. My fingers fumble with the harness, but much to his apparent displeasure, he waits. Makes sense though. He doesn’t seem to be the type to waste the amount of credits he forked over for me to just let me die, anyway. The last strap gets twisted in my fumbling, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth as I try to straighten it.
“Syrrith-77 Expanse, disembark from the port immediately.” An angry-sounding male pops overhead, only making me fumble more. The ship's AI is doing a good job of translating but keeping its menacing tone in place. I let out a puff of breath as the final strap clicks into place, turning a proud, bright smile on my surlycompanion, who is very consistent and has remained hovering over the control, glaring the entire time.
Consistency is a good personality trait. I can appreciate that.
His clawed finger slams down onto the control, the ship letting out an eerie but muted energetic hum. I watch, my brow furrowing and heart clenching, as his silky hair seems tolift. Floating in midair as the feeling of weightlessness takes hold. I lift in my seat, sucking in a ragged gasp as my head snaps to the wide viewing windows of the bridge. It’s a blur of stars and whirling, twisting movement. My mouth fills with saliva, my stomach turning inside out almost immediately.
I panic, fumbling with my straps, managing to undo the harness far faster than I strapped into it. The ship shifts again, taking my stomach with it as his hiss fills the air. He curses in his native language. His tail moves quicker than I can track, unbinding from his seat where he’s tethered himself to snag me just as my body slams upward toward the ceiling of the ship.
Oh no.
Oh god, no.
I’m floating, lifted but tethered by his tail, when I find my words. “I don’t feel—”
He slams me back into my seat, his tail wrapped around me from my shoulders to my waist, trapping my arms. The odd movement and swirling around us stop, but my stomach doesn’t care. I thrash and wiggle, trying to dislodge myself, but it’s too late. I know it, my stomach knows it, and he’s about to find out.
I try my best to pitch to the side, missing his tail by mere inches as I throw up. My sick splatters to the floor beside me before I retch horribly again. My arms are still trapped to my sides underneath a swell of emerald and teal as the humiliation continues. Not that it’s my fault, but that doesn’t make me feel much better. The tip of his tail gathers around my neck, makingmy pulse jump in fear before it simply gathers my hair, shifting it out of my way.
Once I’ve emptied my stomach and then some, I’m panting, my attention slipping to the male who’s only barely now beginning to unravel from me, although we stopped moving a while ago, the seamless glide of space calming my stomach. He simply glares ahead, content to hold my hair at bay.
I flinch when he speaks. “Are you well?”
My cheeks are so hot they hurt as I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my dress. “Yeah.”
His expression is schooled, blank, as he passes me a travel ration of water before lifting from his seat and moving with more grace than I’d thought a being as scary as him could.
He cleans it, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why that makes a new fluttering grow deep in my stomach. When he passes me a mouth cleaning tablet and points me toward the bathroom, my heart is racing in my chest.
Zyros
The human female sleeps like a corpse.
My pulse spikes as she makes the horrible rattling sound again. The first time, I’d nearly slammed into her with my tail, ready to defend us, assuming it was some kind of warning, but no attack followed. Her hair is a light color of pinkish gold, gathered and messed around her shoulders. It looks soft and she smells of fruit.
My mouth fills with venom once again. I swallow it back, struggling to understand how such an odd, malformed lookingcreature could stir my instinct. Her nose juts out from her face, prominent and jarring, but nothing as perplexing as the two weak, short, fleshy things she walks around on.Legs.
The tip of my tail drags along one, making her shift, a hiss building in my throat as electricity runs along to the base of me. It is time for her to wake, but I am reluctant to hear her instant prattling again. It has been a vast many ontics I have sat here andwatched. She is soft, this female, andsmall. Even compared to the few other humans I’ve seen at ports. Her stomach is pillowy instead of hard and structured like the females of my race. My lower hands twitch to reach out and test the spot, wondering what it would feel like to press my face into it. What about her will change when she is heavy and swollen?
That alone is enough to sour my mood, tainting my quiet perusal with anger and apprehension.
“Female.” I hiss. Refusing to keep my tone light. She has not harmed or chastised me yet for my roughness, not that I plan to listen if she does.
She doesn’t budge, her mouth lightly gaped as another death rattle fills the quiet bridge. The tip of my tail flicks out, trying to force her mouth closed gently. She moves then, making my claws dig into the fabric of my pilot seat as I quickly withdraw. It seems to work though. She adjusts herself, groaning slightly before her mess of spiraled hair falls into her face. Her small hand pushes it back, only for it to return immediately after.
“Unless you plan to stay on my ship, we must move.”
Her eyes are blue, like those of Vyloria, our goddess of the moon, night, and protection. The goddess who bore me under her moon. The very one that cursed me to this existence of use and perpetual wariness. I may have been robbed of my right to commune with the goddesses, as our elder females do, but they speak to me all the same. I haven’t a clue if this is a warning or a blessing.
When those eyes turn on me again, I feel the tug in my chest, the odd desire to gather her into me as I slam the key to lower the ramp of the ship. This planet is harsh, even for the beings that inhabit it. More so for soft, scaleless females withlegsunfit to navigate its jungles.
“Oh shoot, why didn’t you wake me?” She tuts, finally uncurling from her seat, wincing like the action is painful. I ignore it. “I missed the atmosphere and everything!” My brow furrows as I lift her bag from its storage compartment, noting the liquid gathering in her eyes.
“Are you in pain, female?” I hiss.
“What?” She sniffles as a droplet falls down her pale-colored cheek. “Oh no, I just…It’s not often you get a view of a primitive planet from space. Bummed I missed it is all.”
Already she speaks too much.
