Page 112 of Invasive Species
Shara pulls to a stop where there are no other women goggling at the guys inside the viewing area. “Selthia really did surprise me with this one.”
“Who's that, and what has she got to do with me getting in to see Gara?” I know I'm being rude, but that doesn't stop me.
“Selthia was one of the greatest minds of Oloria. After our population crash, I suggested my solution: to create artificial males from my eggs. I came to each of the powerful females of our world to convince them, and part of my gift to Oloria was basing clones on these inspirational figures. Gerver was adventurous and a natural leader; Parthia was strong and obsessed with the law; Prana was a skilled pilot.
“Now, I'm a keen geneticist, but Selthia was something else entirely, so I allowed her to set the template for her ownclone type. Selthiastocks have always been good at learning and analyzing, keeping calm under any kind of pressure, but I must admit I had expected more from my best friend.” She gestures to the wall, and it turns into cubes just like the first door, twisting out of my way. “And here it is. Thank you for awakening his secrets, and for showing us.”
She reaches for me, but I shrug off her touch and set off running into the viewing area, back to where the clones mill.
When I get halfway, he frowns, touching his chest, looking back and forth at the long windows with a frantic fervor. What’s he looking for?
He lifts his head with a jerk and spins to face me. He bolts toward me, and we collide in a tangle of limbs and tears.
Mostly my tears. “You're okay. I was so worried!”
“Arra-bellah,” he soothes, tucking my hair behind my ear. He smells like cinnamon sprinkled on hot porridge. “How did you know which one was me?”
“Easy, the one who looks like you.”
He chuckles at that. “I'm sorry I had to leave you, but you slept for so long, the females were too impatient to wait anymore. I felt you wake up, especially the searing surge of anger through the bond.” Pressing a hand to his chest, he kisses my forehead.
Over his shoulders the Selthiastocks all stare in fascination, some of them starting to smile.
Ezla breaks away from the group and approaches. “It’s good to see you up and running, female,” he greets me, not looking me in the eyes.
I duck lower to meet his gaze, grinning to show it's okay. “Thank you so much for all your care and hard work.”
“In the end, I did nothing. Your mate was the one who healed you.” He puts his arms behind his back, blue eyes warm. “I must say I'm looking forward to having my ownmate, and excited that several requests have come through already.”
“Well, make them work for you. You're a real catch,” I tell him, giving him a hug. He’s kind of like Gara's older brother in a way, and how the two guys look at each other with fondness reflects that. I wanted to paint them both, so similar and yet completely different.
Linking arms with Gara, I lead him to the exit. “So, am I all better now?”
He takes my chin, guiding my face toward his and hunkering down a little to compensate for how short I am. The gentle touch of his lips on mine sends a zing straight to my core, and I go on tiptoes to deepen it, clinging onto his shoulders as his arms circle around me, holding me close.
He pulls back first. “Yes, you don't have an exacerbated immune response anymore. I'd say you're better.”
“Well, that's a bit of a shame,” I say. His brow furrows, and I walk my fingers up his biceps. “I was hoping for… more treatment?”
His small smile spreads on his handsome face, scales flickering to a deep, lush green with neon in the joins between them. “Treatment can be administered at any time, love.”
Taking his hand, I spin out of his arms like we're ballroom dancing. He rolls with it, his smile genuine rather than merely tolerant.
As we leave the others behind, I squeeze his hand. “I'm sorry your bodies are designed to heal others. That must be… hard.”
To my surprise, he shakes his head. “No, don't be sorry, I love it, and so will the other Selthiastocks. It makes them powerful in a world that uses and discards them, and I love having a purpose I'm happy with. Just like in the Planet of the Pirate Prince, I'm truly made for you, and humans like that. Right?”
“Uh, I suppose they do, in books.” I bring him to a stop, putting my hand over his hearts. “But for the record, I loveyou.Not a storybook alien, okay? So just be yourself.”
He kisses me deeply then, drugging me with intoxicating pleasure. This is pure Gara, learning what I like and doing it, adapting and experimenting, and I love it. Him. The glow in my chest expands, and it's definitely a happy green.
Again he breaks off first, voice rough and husky. “Having said that, I recall book 8 of Planet of the Pirate Prince being particularly anatomically unlikely. Care to help me test it?”
“Ooh, I love science,” I say, throwing my arms around him.
THIRTY-SIX
GARA
