Page 25 of Keeping Freya
T’Rak gives me one of his disapproving grunts, and I push myself up on my elbows to glare at him. “I’m only human, I have been imprisoned for the longest time, so I’m sorry my physique isn’t up to your standards.”
He sighs. “I know, I apologize, we will rest for today, but continue tomorrow.”
“That sounds like a plan!” I agree, then I pat the mat next to me. “Sit, I have questions.”
Grumbling, he arches an eyebrow. “Questions?”
“What’s a Zarra?” He pales at the question. The question that’s been playing through my mind all day. He called me that this morning and I think I heard one of his crew call his mate the same name. On top of that, he did call me mate when we first met so a conversation is long overdue.
This is not my topic of choice, but now that I am growing to like and respect him, we need to have this conversation. My voice is soft. “T’Rak. We have to talk about this.”
He sighs and folds his big body down to the mat. His hand brushes a lock of his hair away from his eyes as he looks at me.
“The Arracate are a race of warriors. We are strong, our tech is exceptional, and we believe that we are meant to be protectors of the Universe. As a reward for those services, the Universe rewards us with a Fated Mate in return. There is only one out there for us.” He puts his hand on his heart.
“We feel a pull towards that female, which will eventually become an unbreakable bond. The stars decide, and we can only hope to meet that special person during our lifetime.”
Guilt floods my system. Me being his mate means he will never experience that bond, because there is no way I can bond with him. “How does the bonding happen?”
My questions silence the big warrior, making him look almost shy.
“By mating,” he says gruffly.
“Mating?”
“Yes. Sex.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Sex?”
“Well, being near your mate and caring for her will make the bond grow, but it can only be taken to the next level after sex. When a warrior's sperm enters a female's body, they become one; body and mind will follow.”
“Wow… That’s–something.” Stunned, I push myself off the mat and get to my feet. “But thank you for the talk. I will be going now.”
I leave without looking back. I have the answer to my question, even though it was not the answer I was hoping for. Either way, I am going back to Earth, so no mating bond for me. Period.
The followingdays continue along the same path. We work on hand-to-hand combat in the morning and target practice in the afternoon. I especially enjoy knife throwing, a skill that actually comes rather easily to me, and I live for the grunts T’Rak gives me when I hit the mark. I never considered myself to have a praise kink, but my chest flutters every time he makes the approving noise.
He doesn’t speak much, but I feel myself being drawn to his silent presence more and more every day. My hormones are all over the place with his fierce protectiveness, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes as well. The scar gives him a fierce look, proving how great a warrior he is.
Each day makes it harder to keep my distance, each day makes it harder to fight this pull I feel towards him. It’s the mating bond, he told me. He also told me to ignore it, which suits me just fine.
Today, however, is not helping me ignore the bond at all. T’Rak is trying to teach me to get out of someone's hold if they grab me from behind. Basic self-defense, which I even suggested, thinking of my recent experiences.
The problem is, every time he takes hold of me, something happens inside of me, and I forget where I am for just a second. That second is the exact moment when I need to start my move, which results in me always being too late and unable to retract myself from his hold.
“Again,” he grumbles after yet another failed attempt. “You need to react immediately when you feel my arm around you. Pull my arm down with both hands, crouch deep, and twist your shoulder so you can throw me over your head.”
I snort. “You know I can’t do that, that is ridiculous.”
His mouth thins, forming a disapproving line. “I have trained many warriors, but none have been as stubborn as you are right now, or as distracted. If you execute the move correctly, you can throw someone twice your size.”
I huff again for good measure before I turn my back to him to indicate I am ready to try again. This time, my anger keeps me from getting distracted, and I manage to pull on his arm immediately, while crouching down. I yank on his arm to fall, but he does not budge.
“Now what. Think Fr’Ya,” he grunts in my ear. But I can’t think while he is this close. Involuntarily, I sigh and melt into him a little bit, that strange flutter in my chest again.
I whisper. “You’re too strong.”
“Then break that strength,” he whispers back.
