5. Tovan

5

TOVAN

I didn’t lie to her…but I wasn’t forthcoming with the truth, either.

Yes, calling a medic to the plains will only waste credits. But it’s not that I’m trying to save after orbits of having nothing to spend on. I just…really don’t need to call a medic.

I pop out my comm anyway, sending a quick note to Arnak to let him know that all is well.

‘Situation under control. No need for extraction.’

A beat of silence, then Arnak’s reply flashes across the screen.

‘Under control? I can scent your lifeblood from here. You’re bleeding out in a human’s dwelling? Should I bring the emergency life-pack?’

‘Negative, Arnak. She has taken care of the wound and her methods are…effective. You can return to town without me. I will get my grav bike later.’

For a few moments, there is nothing on the screen and I’m a bit surprised he’s dropped the matter so quickly. Arnak is usually far more…persistent. I’m about to put the device away when it suddenly lights up again.

‘Just out of curiosity, brother…this human female…does she have a mate?’

Even during a crisis, his priorities remain predictable.

‘I do not believe she does.’ But I know why he asks. He’s as interested in her as I am. ‘Focus on your surveying, Arnak.’

His next message appears quickly.

‘Tread carefully, brother. They will soon pass a law that we Kari are harassing these poor females. Coercing them to stay in our presence. You have no reason to be there.’

He’s right, of course. I have no reason to be here. And yet, I remain.

‘ I will leave soon .’

With that, I switch my comm off. Tucking the device away, I glance at the closed door of the human’s dwelling. I don’t even know her name. That curious, intriguing, lira’an . The word comes naturally, probably because it suits her so much. As if she was sculpted by the very star itself.

A slow grin comes to my lips as my gaze moves around her farm. She’s put fresh wall varnish on the main dwelling. It’s a vibrant blue that makes the lodge stand out rather than blend in. A splash of audacity that tells me this female has a profound misunderstanding of the concept of camouflage.

My grin widens as I grunt.

She…captivates me. The way she tended to my wound without hesitation, her touch gentle, so at odds with the hardness in her tone as she scolded me. It’s been a long time since anyone dared to speak to me that way. Longer still since I allowed it. But from her, it was unexpected. Refreshing.

I flex my foot now, testing it out. The lifeblood has ceased seeping. In a few sols, it will be like this accident never occurred. But the female doesn’t know that.

Maybe I should knock on her door. Tell her the truth. That she wasted her supplies helping me. That I’m a brute who couldn’t stop himself from accepting her assistance. That I am utterly shameless. And that I will leave now. Make my way off her land.

Only…I don’t.

I can already feel the slight change in the air, the way the clouds above seem to be rumbling and congealing together. The plains will get a shower soon and piloting a grav bike through the torrent will be less than pleasurable. Yet still, the thought of leaving, of bringing this meeting to an end, feels instinctively wrong.

My brow tightens as I stare at the sky for a few moments before my gaze sweeps over the lush fields surrounding this female’s small farm. It is peaceful out here, far from the chaos and soullessness of the town.

When the torrent comes, the female will be safe. In her lodge, it will be like surrounding herself with a cocoon, locking out the outside world. For that alone, it’s clear why her kind has chosen to come to live out in these plains. Whenever I and Arnak venture out here for the surveys, I’ve always noticed it. The peace. The sort of peace I crave, but one that always remains just out of reach. Because even with the calmness around me, there will always be that one part deep inside that is still trapped with the greatest wound for my kind.

The ache of a species designed for a bond so profound, so rare, that most of us live and die without ever experiencing it.

And maybe that’s why my thoughts shift back to the female. To the compassion in her eyes, the strength in her soft claws. To the way she looked at me simply as a being who needed her help.

That compassion was a reflex. As if she’s spent a lifetime tending to wounds, both physical and unseen.

As if she could tend to mine .

Foolish thought. Helping me meant nothing, not to her, I’m sure. But it’s been a long time since anyone looked at me the way she did. Touched me, the way she did. Cared for me, the way she did—even if it was fleeting.

I close my eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over me. I’ll have to leave soon. Despite that I’m sure she’d deny it, she’s probably hidden away because I’m unsettling. Even Kari females find my size disturbing. If I were a smaller male, she might have spent more time with me. Tarried a little longer. Now she’s gone in, her sweet scent and presence missing, and I can’t even hear a sound inside.

I am aware, however, that she might be watching.

The thought sends an unexpected thrill through me, one that I quickly suppress. I am not here for…whatever this is. I have a job to do, one that extends far beyond this small farm and its intriguing inhabitant.

Plus, there’s the other matter entirely. That within me lies a silent song. The one thing that’s supposed to let me know when I’ve found my mate is painfully absent. My core-rhythm doesn’t exist. For all I know, this female might belong to another of my kind. To Arnak even.

A particularly chilly gust blows across the porch. Everything within me stills. If she belongs to another Kari, to Arnak of all males, it should bring me joy. It would mean she will be protected, cared for. But the idea is like a misaligned scale. Wrong. Uncomfortable.

Frakk. This is why I should leave. I’d thought the others of my kind, the males that have flocked our town searching for these females, were hoping for too much.

That the insanity was driving them. But they aren’t insane. Because that insanity is the same thing driving me now. The same reason why I’m seated at this female’s cottage, feigning a serious injury, and hoping for even a few more moments in her presence.

But…she did nothing to indicate she was in the least bit interested in me. I am not some juvenile pining after the first female to show him kindness.

I should leave…

Instead, shifting on the seat, I angle my body slightly towards the human’s door. Just in case she does emerge. Just in case she decides to grace me with her presence once more. It’s foolish. Dangerous, even. But I can’t seem to help myself.

She wanted to devour me at one point… That could have been a sign…

Or maybe it’s just a sign I should stop being stubborn and get my translator updated. It’s an easy process enough. I know a male, a bounty hunter, that could get me the latest unreleased version of languages. I just have to give him something he wants in return.

Go, Tovan. You must leave. You have tarried too long . Want to be soaked in the torrent, half-blinded by the intensity of the showers on your way back to town? No? Then you should go now.

I tarry. My gaze drifting back to the door. My ears straining to catch even the faintest sound of movement within. But there’s nothing. Just the whisper of the rising wind through the grass-feed and the distant call of grazing oogas.

It is not till the sun begins to pass its midpoint in the sky, it s light fading behind the converging clouds that I finally accept that I must leave. I’ve lingered far too long, indulging in juvenile fantasies and dangerous hopes. It’s time to go, to return to my duties and the reality of my predictable existence.

I rise from the seat. Glancing at the door, I try not to peer through her windows. That would make me certainly look like someone she doesn’t want inside. Instead, I dip my head and rummage in my pockets for credits. I will get her name somehow. Pay her properly, but I hope this can settle my debt for now.

Lifting a fist, I’m ready to rap against her door, when I pause. She obviously does not want to speak to me again. Why else would she have not come back outside after so long? So, lump in my throat, I leave a hundred credits at her door before lifting my voice.

“I’m off now.” I pause, waiting, listening. There’s only silence. “Thank you again, female, for your…” For her presence? For the fact she’s suddenly lit a spark within me that’s making me hope again? “For your assistance.”

It seems woefully inadequate.

With a sigh, I turn, ready to leave. I don’t even know if I will ever see her again. Short of positioning myself outside her door another sol, how would we cross paths?

The thought turns over in my head as I make my way off her porch. For a moment, I consider simply walking away normally, but then a ridiculous thought strikes me. What if she’s watching? What if she sees me leave with barely a sign of the injury she so carefully tended to?

Before I can talk myself out of it, I hobble dramatically towards the transit path. It’s a pitiful display, really. A Kari warrior, limping like a wounded animal. But some irrational part of me hopes it will show her that her efforts weren’t in vain, that she truly helped me.

I’m halfway across her yard when I hear the door open behind me. My core-beat stutters in my chest, but I force myself to maintain the charade, continuing my exaggerated limp.

“Hold on now…” Her voice floats out, a mix of concern and something else I can’t quite place. “You better—” I turn, trying to keep the surprise and joy off my face. Her voice muffles and I find her bustling back into the lodge. She appears again a second later, slipping her feet into her boots. “This alien is gonna be the death of me.” It’s muttered under her breath, but I hear it anyway.

She thinks I’m going to cause her demise? That is not what I intended. But when her gaze meets mine, it isn’t worry I see there. Well, at least, not for herself, I don’t think.

She’s worried about me . The thought is so unexpected, it sends a jolt of warmth right through me. But before I can savor it, she’s at my side, her clawless digits on my arm, a touch that sends another jolt through me. This time, raw, powerful electricity shoots down my spine.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you hobble off into the sunset like that,” she says. And then I realize how ridiculous I must look—a towering Kari male, pretending to be crippled by an injury that will most certainly heal without delay.

Shame washes over me. What am I doing? This isn’t who I am. This isn’t how a warrior behaves.

Her touch, light yet insistent, guides me towards the remains of a tree.

“Here,” she says, steering me toward the stump. “Lean on this for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

“I—”

“No buts, Mr. Tovan.” Her tone. It’s laced with that same authority that I’m finding surprisingly…endearing. “Now, lean here on this rotten tree while I fetch you something.”

Before I can even process the whirlwind of sensations her touch has unleashed, she’s gone, her retreating form a blur of blues and reds.

I lean against the tree, my willpower not as strong as I thought. This whole charade is getting more complicated with each moment.

A few clicks later, the human reappears, carrying a thick, sturdy branch, stripped of its leaves and smoothed at the top. I’m not sure what she intends to do with it till she reaches my side and plants it into the earth at our feet.

“Here,” she says, thrusting the upper end toward me. “This should help you keep the weight off that leg. Now, did you manage to call someone while you were waiting?”

Her gaze is sharp, assessing, and I know she’s not just asking about transportation. She’s watching me, testing me, trying to decipher the truth behind my next words.

“I have transportation.” I dip my head slightly in respect to her and to communicate my gratitude. Because she has brought me a walking staff. I might not need it, but her care and attention strike me deep anyway. It’s a small gesture, this crude walking stick, yet it means more than she knows.

I take the staff from her, feeling its weight in my claw. It’s a simple thing, but sturdy and well-crafted. Just like her . My gaze heats before I can stop myself.

“Thank you.” My voice ends up a bit more gruff than I want. “I am forever in your debt.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” But she nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Can’t have you stumbling around out there, now can we? It will make me look bad. Now, about that ride…”

I would laugh at her joke but something else swells in my throat. A ball of tension. I’m suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. Her scent envelops me, an intoxicating mix of that sweet trace and something more.

“It’s just…that way.” I gesture vaguely toward the transit route.

“Oh, alright.” Her brows furrow now in a way I’m beginning to realize is skepticism. “I’ll walk you to the road, at least. Make sure you don’t fall into a ditch or something.”

Before I can protest, she’s moving, her stride purposeful. I have no choice but to follow, leaning on the staff more for show than actual need.

We walk in companionable silence, the shadows creeping across the sky and settling around us like a blanket. I’m acutely aware of her presence beside me, of the way she occasionally glances up at me, her eyes unreadable brown pits that have me desperate to know what she’s thinking. Because although I’m ecstatic that she graced me with her presence again, I’m more than aware that it is only for a brief moment. As soon as we get to the transit route, we will part ways and she will be gone again.

But as we near the transit route, I can see the confusion growing on her face. There’s no vehicle in sight, no sign of any being waiting for me.

“I thought you said your ride was here.” She’s staring at me now, but it isn’t full-fledged. It’s a sideways look as her eyes narrow.

That hard thing in my throat swells. I’ve backed myself into a corner. “It’s…across there.” I admit, gesturing to the pasture beyond.

Her eyes widen immediately. “Across the road? In that pasture? That’s…that’s miles of open field!”

“Yes. I…left it there before our encounter.” I’m full of shame. So much so, I’m unable to meet her gaze now. I can feel her staring at me for a long moment. Then, to my surprise, she lets out a soft laugh.

“You know what? I don’t even want to know,” she says, shaking her head. “But you can’t trek across that field in your condition. And I don’t have the resources to escort you there and back. Not with that storm coming in.”

Storm?

I lift my head then, gaze flicking to the sky above. She’s right. Those clouds have finally converged. Heavy and threatening, they’re quickly blocking the star’s light as they swell with warning for a torrent that will soon come. Frakk. If I’d been paying better attention, I would have noticed that fact.

Only, it wouldn’t have forced me to leave any sooner.

“Right, the storm.”

She sighs, running a claw across her head, and her tight coils spring back into place, dark spirals that seem to defy gravity. “Look, I’ve got a barn. It’s not much, but it’s dry and warm. You can stay there till the storm passes, rest that leg properly. Then in the morning, if you’re still set on crossing that field, well…I won’t stop you.”

Words fail me. “I…I couldn’t impose…”

Gods, please let her make me impose.

“It’s not an imposition,” she says, voice still firm.

Gratitude, god of the moon. I will worship you harder from now on .

I don’t understand this female at all. But I desperately want to. She locked herself away and I believed her to be done with my presence. But here she is offering me more assistance.

“It’s common sense,” the female continues, frowning up at the darkening sky. “Now come on, let’s get you settled before the rain starts.”

She turns, clearly expecting me to follow. And despite logic telling me I shouldn’t, I find myself hobbling back towards her homestead.

This is…a strange turn of events. This human female, barely half my size, taking charge, offering shelter to a Kari warrior she barely knows. It’s unexpected, unprecedented, and yet…completely and utterly what I want.

I really am shameless. I don’t even have the shame to care.

I glance at her profile, bathed in the dying light, and something stirs within me. Something I thought long dead. Need, perhaps.

Or perhaps something even more dangerous.

Hope.