Page 29 of Kazzon's Human Bride
Did it make her a bad daughter or a bad sister if she didn’t miss her family that much? Leaving had almost felt like a relief. She wondered if her father had moved out already, or if her mother had somehow forgiven him. She supposed she could call them via a video comm in a few days to find out, but for now she wanted to enjoy the growing physical distance between them, the lessening of the pressure she’d felt to fix all their problems.
She couldn’t very well be expected to solve their rampant issues when she was thousands of light years away. Soon she would have a family of her own and she was determined to make the best of it, even if she hadn’t initially wanted to leave Earth and become a Tarrkuan bride.
Though Kazzon still intimidated her a bit, she was starting to really like him. She’d been aboard his ship, bound for planet Xollnax, for five days now, and she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed his company. Everything about him drew her in, from his enigmatic dark gaze to his deep rumbling voice, as well as his spicy yet masculine scent. She inhaled deeply, nuzzling her face close to his hair.
He stirred in his sleep but didn’t rouse quite yet, and she took the opportunity to admire him while he slumbered. The same serious expression he always wore while awake made him appear as though he were deep in thought, but his slow, steady breaths revealed he really was sleeping. He had long, dark eyelashes that matched his pitch-black hair, and they fluttered now and then, making her suspect he was lost in a dream.
She couldn’t help but wonder just what he was dreaming about.
Her insides fluttered as she continued admiring her new husband. She could still scarcely believe what had happened—that a big Tarrkuan ambassador had caught her slinking about the shadows after curfew in New Leesburg, forced her to his spaceship, and decided he would marry her practically on the spot.
Well, he’d claimed the Allocators had assigned her to become his bride, but she suspected there was more to the story. Had he requested her as his wife? More flutters rose inside her as she contemplated this possibility.
She would never forget the first moment she’d laid eyes on Kazzon, staring at her from across the street, his dark gaze piercing straight through her. At least that was what it had felt like at the time. Though they hadn’t exchanged any words during this first encounter, the experience had left a mark on her. She’d rushed back into the bakery, needing to hide, because she was certain he’d gleaned all her secrets just from the brief looks they’d exchanged.
His eyes opened and immediately fixed on her. She flushed and glanced away, embarrassed that he’d caught her gawking at him. Her face heated and she made to get out of bed, but he grabbed her arm and drew her closer, until he had her nestled tightly in his embrace.
“Good morning, little human.” His lips brushed against her earlobe and she shivered with anticipation. Sometimes, Kazzon claimed her in the mornings just after he awoke.
“Good morning,Xerr,” she replied, lowering her gaze to his chest.
He tangled his legs with hers and a soft sigh escaped her. How glorious it was to laze under the warm covers, her naked body pressed to her husband’s. Her heart raced and flutters rose in her tummy. Would he claim her before breakfast arrived?
A knock sounded on the door, dashing her secret hopes of an early morning quickie. The same servant who’d been delivering all their meals entered the room a second later, pushing a cart that held several covered trays. The delicious aroma of cooked meat and freshly baked sweetcakes soon filled the room.
The tall, skinny Tarrkuan male, who was dressed in an all-white uniform, nodded briefly at Kazzon before he set all the trays on the dining table. He pushed the cart against the wall, gave Kazzon another nod, and quickly departed the room. All the while, Caylee watched and kept the covers tucked up to her chin, even though the servant hadn’t glanced her way once.
Even after almost a week of being Kazzon’s wife, she still wasn’t used to the fact that servants would prepare and deliver every meal. Another male servant, who looked similar in appearance to the one who’d just delivered their breakfast, showed up twice a day to clean the bathrooms and tidy up Kazzon’s quarters.
“Do servants accompany all Tarrkuan ambassadors while they’re on diplomatic missions?” she asked, stretching under the covers. She wondered if he had servants at his home in Ashorr, though she hesitated to ask. If the answer was no, she didn’t want him to think she was disappointed.
Kazzon guided her into a sitting position and ran his hands down her hair, then her shoulders, allowing his gaze to linger on her bosom for a moment. She flushed but resisted the urge to yank the covers back up. The last time she’d tried to cover herself, he’d swatted her hands away from the sheets and given her a stern look that had incited pulses of heat between her thighs, as well as a quiver across her bottom cheeks.
“Yes,” Kazzon finally replied, “but that is because only members of the ruling class, such as myself, can be appointed to an ambassadorship. I bring my own servants with me during my travels, as all ambassadors do.”
The ruling class. Of course. Until today, he hadn’t told her outright that he was a member of the ruling class, but now it all made sense. He’d mentioned his family’s compound a few days ago and claimed he no longer lived there. Only members of the ruling class built compounds for their families. She’d learned all this in school as she studied Tarrkuan culture. She’d also learned that all Tarrkuan servants were castrated males who’d volunteered for their jobs, as they believed it brought them honor before their Gods.
“My friend, Julie, remember I told you she married a Tarrkuan named Varro?”
“Yes.” He gave her a guarded look that made her suspect he didn’t like it when she talked about other Tarrkuan males, particularly the one she would’ve married had she not switched places with Julie.
“Do you, um, know him, perhaps?”
“Why?” His hands tensed on her arms.
“I’m just curious, since he’s also a member of the ruling class.” She shot him a polite smile, hoping to calm the sudden storm that gathered in his eyes. “I-I was also thinking that perhaps if you and Varro know one another, then you might know where he lives, and you could tell me where he lives so I could—”
A ferocious growl filled the room, cutting off her speech. She gasped and tried to back away from her angry mate, but he kept a firm hold on her arms. She trembled in his grasp. What had she said wrong? Frustration rose within her. He hadn’t even allowed her to finish speaking before he interrupted.
Still, he was angry, and she wasn’t stupid. In a show of submission, she lowered her head and stared at the bedsheets she was twisting in her hands. “Kazzon, I only meant—”
He snarled and bent down, until his face was level with hers. His hot breath wafted against her cheeks and when she dared a look into his eyes, fear seized her at the dark fury she glimpsed.
“Xerr,” he said in a sharp tone. “You are to address me asXerr.” He gave her a slight shake and her stomach flipped.
Oh God. She hadn’t meant to call him by his name. In her nervousness to explain her reason for asking where Varro lived, she’d simply slipped up.
She lowered her head further. “Forgive me,Xerr. It will not happen again.” She paused for a few seconds to summon her courage, but before she could speak, he began to scold her.
