Page 21 of Healer
“How old is your daughter?” I asked. A smile played on my lips as I watched the little girl try to stack blocks. I would guess she was only five or six from her dexterity.
Vienda shot her daughter a glance full of parental pride. “Irsay is twenty-two summers.”
“Twenty-Two?” I sputtered, nearly slicing off the tip of my finger instead of the skin from oddly shaped alien turnip I peeled.
“Is it strange to you?” The discoloration in the female Kerzak’s fur, which resembled a brow, raised slightly.
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “A twenty-two-year—summers—old human is considered an adult.
Vienda laughed, a deep rumbling sound that echoed about the room. “A Kerzak’s childhood lasts seventy rotations.”
“Wow.” I finished with the turnip and snagged what looked and smelled like a cross between a carrot and a lemon. “How long does your kind... the Kerzak live?
Vienda sighed sadly. “My father died when he was 304 summers old and was still considered in the prime of his life.”
“Wow.” I said again, not attempting to hide my surprise.
“Humans do not live that long?”
“We live about a third of that... if we’re lucky,” I shrugged. “After going through the Garoot Healer, I’m not so sure.”
I’d heard the Ulkommanian say the healer extended human lifespan at least a hundred years. At the time, I hadn’t considered what that meant—tied down to be experimented on and all. On Earth, with ALS, I wouldn’t have made it to sixty-five. If Hakkar succeeded in healing me, the sky, or make that the stars were the limit.
A small angry grunt took my attention, and I turned to see Irsay destroy her block tower with a single swipe of her furry paw—completely adorable. I’d always loved children. Wanting to care for them lured me into pediatric medicine. I’d planned to have a dozen of my own, but ALS robbed me of that dream. Of course, if Hakkar cured me? My hand stole over my stomach, an indication of a desire so deep that I feared to give it voice.
“May I ask you a question?”
I turned my head to find Vienda staring at me, her pale pink face displaying a curious expression.
“Of course?”
“Are you mated with the Vaktaire?”
My mouth fell open, and I struggled to find the right words, feeling my cheeks flush. My body reacted to the question, sending a rush of tingling excitement over my skin, and causing a fluttering sensation deep in my stomach.
“Why do you ask?” I tried to seem nonchalant but felt my cheeks grow hotter.
Vienda’s shoulders shrugged, but a telling smile played across her brown lips as though she knew my secret. “You move around each other as though you feel a mate bond.”
“Oh!” I felt caught. The undeniable truth was that I felt a powerful attraction towards Hakkar. Every aspect of him was alluring to me—from his sharp features and intense gaze to his genuine kindness and compassion. In my eyes, he ranked as one of the most remarkable men I had ever encountered. A fact that apparently, I didn’t hide well from others.
“I ask only because I know the nature of the Vaktaire mating ritual. I would find it curious if he mated to a human,” Vienda explained.
“Why?” Now, she had my attention.
With deft fingers, Vienda peeled a strange, bulbous vegetable that resembled a potato. Her voice sounded almost clinical, but each word pierced my heart like a sharp blade, leaving a strange, lingering ache with every syllable.
"The ritual where a Vaktaire claims his mate is fatal for anyone except their own species. Unlike the Kerzak, who mix blood between mates, a Vaktaire’s heart stops and starts many times until it beats in unison with his or her chosen. Many have died during the ritual.”
“Oh.” I kept my head down, an odd stinging sensation affecting my eyes. A sharp pain echoed in my chest that I couldn’t blame on ALS this time. Was I upset because I couldn’t be Hakkar’s mate? My heart clenched at the thought, mixed emotions swirling within me—excitement, despair, longing. Yes, I realized with a flutter in my stomach.
Yes, I was.
When Dereck left me, I retreated deep into myself, shutting down all emotions. Dealing with the relentless progression of ALS and my approaching demise was already more than I could bear. I couldn’t fathom adding any further heartbreak into the mix. What was the point of me finding someone to love when my time was limited? How would a potential first date even play out, knowing any time together was hampered by my illness?
What exactly are you looking for in this relationship?
Like anybody, I want love and companionship. Oh, and how do you feel about drool, incontinence, and funeral planning?
