Page 32 of Theirs to Crave

I’d have helped.

Svixa’s excited voice made me turn, my lips lifting at the happy, incomprehensible chatter. Instead of the child I expected, I was greeted with an eyeful of fur-covered abs. Freaking washboard abs. My gaze trailed up...and up...to a pair of buttercup yellow eyes.

Zafett had been beautiful by firelight. In the full light of day? I could do nothing but stare. We’d crashed on the planet of cat supermodels. Giant cat supermodels. My attention drifted downwards.Proportionategiant cat supermodels.

“Kezhai!” Svixa cried, her outthrust hand interrupting my ogling.

Automatically, I took it, and looked up to see her peeking over Zafett’s shoulder. She pulled me with her as Zafett walked the two steps to the fire and set her down carefully beside it. It was significantly more than two steps for me, and I trotted beside them like a Chihuahua trying to keep up with a Great Dane.

She looked surprisingly alright this morning. Kids are like that, though. Even alien ones. I was pretty sure from the way her leg was wrapped and Zafett was carrying her around that it was broken, but it didn’t seem to dampen her mood. I tried to keep up with her stream of chatter, but I only kind of knew one or two words in the language, so mostly I listened and tried not to be too obvious as I looked around for anything that might be related to a toilet. At this point, I’d happily squat behind a tree—as long as it didn’t offend our hosts.

The others wandered over, and they played the game of introductions with Svixa. I kept looking at the door but saw no sign of Revik or Litha. Maybe they were sleeping in? They’d earned it, after last night.

I squirmed, shifting from foot to foot.

Zafett touched my shoulder. “Ray seh?” he asked, crouching to look at me with worried eyes.

I shrugged, shaking my head. Those were not words I knew.

“Ereh elith?” he tried again. He lightly touched my bandaged feet and groaned; his face twisted as if in agony.

“Oh.Icks.” I wasn’t in much pain at all, actually. Whatever he’d smeared on my cuts must have had numbing stuff in it...or it was magic. Either seemed equally likely at this point. My face burned as I tried to think of a dignified way to tell him I was desperate to piss.

A la mierda. I cupped a hand over my abdomen. Then, squeezing my eyes shut against the humiliation, I moved it down while making apssssssound. Mariano choked on a laugh behind me, and I twisted around, stabbing him with a glare that promised retribution.

Zafett’s hand brushed lightly over my shoulder again. I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. His tail was high and waving, and I got the impression he was biting back amusement. Svixa was unabashedly giggling. I felt a smile curl my lips despite myself. With great dignity—although his tail still waved—he showed us to a set of sturdy, high walled clay bowls on a low shelf near the edge of the covered area.

A few minutes of mostly mimed instruction later, my bladder was finally empty. I ducked out into the rain to empty and rinse the basin in the small nearby stream as Zafett had demonstrated.

I jogged back, not wanting to get completely soaked. Everything bounced and jiggled, and I cursed the bugs forstealing my bra. But I was too relieved by my empty bladder—not to mention still giddy over the upgrade from prisoner to honored guest—to put too much energy into it, so I was grinning when I got back to the shelter.

A palapa, I decided, as I caught my breath and wrung my hair out onto the lush, wine-colored moss that grew all around the shelter. It reminded me of my uncle’s home in Yelapa, with its round shape and pointed, leafy roof.

“Bracing, isn’t it?” Ria laughed. There weren’t enough bowls for all of us, so we’d gone in groups. Now, they sat with Svixa, drying off by the fire. Next to Ria, Salat crouched, staring fixedly at something. Ria followed xyr gaze and paled. “Oh, shit.”

My arms were still raised, squeezing the dripping mass of my hair, as I froze and turned to see what frightened them.

It was Zafett. He was on all fours, staring at...me. There was a predatory light in his eyes, in the flared nostrils, in the way he held his body low to the ground as his claws flexed, digging into the adobe-like floor.

Then I couldn’t see anything but Mariano’s back. I blinked as heat rushed through me, pounding in my ears and pooling confusingly in lower places. My brother postured like a wrestler, protecting me, and I pressed my hands to my chest as I fought the suicidal urge to slap him away. I didn’t know if Zafett wanted to literally eat me...or eat me in another way...andnotknowingshouldn’tturn me on.

This was it. My survival instinct was broken. Worn away to nothing. I was doomed.

Slightly damp cloth settled around my shoulders, and I grabbed it reflexively.

“Borrow this until you dry off, hmm?” Shane gave me a squeeze when I leaned into him. “You’re too sexy for your own good.”

Understanding hit me. Talk about a wet t-shirt contest. Jesus.

Holding the edges tight over my chest, I pushed up onto my tiptoes, peering over Mariano’s shoulder.

Zafett’s ears were tipped back in the way I was pretty sure meant embarrassment, and he’d retreated to sit dejectedly on the far side of the palapa. No longer any kind of threat, he looked like a puppy that had been smacked on the nose.

I pushed Mariano, who grunted, but didn’t budge.

“Mueve, idiota.”

No response.

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