Page 41 of Warrior
My heart soared at the disappointment in her sigh. “The kids… we missed you at dinner.”
“It was delicious. Thank you for leaving food for me.” I turned on my side to face her.
Mistake.
Daisy copied the posture facing me. Even in the darkness, I noticed every curve outlined by the threadbare blanket and the gleam of the golden flecks in her eyes.
“Of course.” Her lips curved. “You worked hard today. Nobody should ever be sent to bed without supper.”
There was a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “You say that like you know how it feels.”
“I do.” She huffed a short, deep laugh. “It was my parent’s punishment of choice when I was younger.”
A frown crossed my face. "That is cruel. A youngling should never be denied sustenance."
“I agree,” Daisy said and laughed softly. “Although we may have to come up with some type of reward-punishmentsystem. Some of the kids are starting to get a little rambunctious.”
"How do you mean?" I raised upon an elbow to see her more clearly because…. Fuck! Seeing her beautiful, smiling face made me feel all was right in the universe.
"It's nothing bad," she assured me. "Some of the children wanted to stay up late and acted mischievously at dinner. We nearly had a food fight."
“Fighting with food?” Humans are truly strange creatures. While smacking someone with a side of meat might sting, to do real damage, one needed a blade. Despite hearing the rumbling of amusement from her, it aggravated me that the younglings would be difficult to one who showed them so much care. “I will speak with them about this behavior.”
Daisy giggled. A soft, lilting sound that made me think of music in my home world—a most beautiful melody. I wanted to hear more of it.
“Why do you laugh?”
Her laughter trailed off, and her voice held a wistful quality when she spoke. Or at least I imagined it did.
“I was just thinking we sound like an old married couple talking about their kids.”
Married.
The term humans used meaning finding one's true mate. Words stuttered from my brain to my mouth as a notion formed—one that stole my breath away. A vision of my life as Daisy's mate. Having her in my blankets every morning and night and watching her belly grow round with my youngling. It was a dream hovering on the horizon, just out of reach.
She shifted, sitting up and swinging her legs off the side of the bed, feet swinging back and forth since her legs were too short to reach the ground. Small and soft and utterly perfect.
Imagining a future with her made me oblivious to the change in her mood. The thread of anxiety in her tone stunned me as much as her words.
“Daicon….” The plump lower lip disappeared between her teeth for a moment. “Do you… regret kissing me?”
Thankfully, humans could not see well in the dark. Daisy would not see the wash of regret cross my face. Not for kissing her. I felt little regret for my own lack of self-control, which lessened by the moment.
“Not regret… exactly.” I faltered on how to describe the want of her as natural to me as breath. No matter what happened or how far duty took me away from her, this want would remain stained in my blood for eternity. A torture I gladly endured just to know that, for a brief time, there was hope she could be mine.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy blurted as she squirmed on the cot. “I don’t know what got into me. I guess I’m just over-emotional because of what happened with Ewok. I’m sorry you didn’t like it. It won’t happen again.”
As a warrior, I’d endured wars, battles, and slavery where my life hinged on the flick of a blade. I’d watched family and friends die, and I’d never felt fear like the idea of never holding her again spurred.
Before it became conscious thought, I stood, headed to the cot, and fell to my knees beside it. Daisy recoiled slightly when I appeared from the din but relaxed immediately, a faint smile curving her perfect lips.
"Not like it?" My voice was thick, and I lifted a hand, catching a strand of her silky, thick rich brown hair in my fingers. "Kissing you is a greater pleasure than spending an entire moon in the company of a Ntiavian temptress."
A small, shocked sound escaped her lips. “What’s a Ntiavian temptress?”
I pondered how to explain for a moment. “Like the Garoot are bred for healing and the Vaktaire for protection—Natavians are bred for pleasure.”
Her brow puckered slightly, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck! I envied those teeth.
