Chapter 9 | Rex

Chapter 9

Rex

My female was cutting vegetables at the table in my kitchen, her head lowered as she focused on the knife and the large Aderian squash for my stew. I had no other word to describe how she looked besides ‘cute,’ and that was not a word that was normally part of my vocabulary. I also felt an immense sense of satisfaction because she was now in my domain, smelling of me and wearing my clothes.

The taste of her mouth was engraved on my brain and had kept me frustrated and awake for long hours that night. My cock ached when I remembered that kiss, desperate for more than the quick hand job I’d permitted myself in the shower that morning. I did not want to rush my mate or spook her, especially when, just yesterday, she had still refused to stay inside my kitchen for more than an hour. I hoped things would be different today, that I could convince her to stay, even when Drova would inevitably make his appearance.

Moving a pan off the stove, I tipped liquid into a jar to save for later. Then, I caught sight of some brown leaves at the edge of one of my herb plants on the windowsill and frowned. Those weren’t there yesterday, which meant that Drova had been messing with something volatile. I hoped that didn’t mean he’d messed with more in my kitchen; he knew I hated that.

Thinking about the Asrai male summoned him this morning, I wasn’t sure if that was because he had a hint of telepathy left or not. In any case, when he barged through the door from the bar area, I could sense that he was in a cheerful mood. That was bad news.

Protective instincts surging, I crossed the kitchen in a few steps, my body braced in front of Kara, arms out and knives at the ready. I hadn’t fought in a long time, but my muscles still recalled every move, every attack I had ever practiced. Drova came to an abrupt stop when he saw me, his scent turning sour with fear. This wasn’t how I normally greeted him, and it took him a few seconds to gather his wits.

“Rex,” he said loudly, acting as if I’d lost my hearing as well as my voice when I got injured in my last arena fight. “What in the blazing suns is wrong with you this morning? It’s too early for this.” He hadn’t seen my female, but I sensed her get to her feet behind me and felt her small hand settle on the back of my belt. A surge of pride filled me, knowing that she sought my protection.

Of course, Drova was nothing if not cunning. His eyes caught sight of the extra cutting board on the table and the pushed-out chair. Then he spotted Kara and leaned to the side to get a better look, his eyebrows climbing in his ghoulish face. “You’ve got a human!” he crowed. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Rex. Always so highfalutin about all that stuff. I thought you didn’t have the balls.”

I snarled, but no sound came from my damaged throat. That didn’t matter; Drova flinched back anyway. The old, twinless Asrai had a great knack for surviving and a deep-rooted fear of the male I’d been before I gained my freedom and came here looking for a job. He also had a big ego, and he didn’t like that he feared me or that he did not feel like he owned this kitchen.

“What? You’re a hypocrite, getting all mad because you found out Jenny was a slave, and then you get your own?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the doorjamb, ready to make a quick exit while pretending that wasn’t what he was doing.

I slashed my hands through the air in a cutting motion, remembered I was holding the knives, and dropped them onto the table. Then I started talking because I knew that Drova understood my signing. “Kara is not a slave. She’s a friend, and you’re going to pay her a wage for working here. Or I’ll get your books audited by the Akrod House of Commerce. Sound fair?” Drova’s nose flared with distaste, but he gave me a single nod. When he low-balled the salary he was willing to pay my female, I did not object, because that wasn’t what I was after anyway.

Trap laid, our agreement made, I smirked at the Asrai in a way that was definitely a whole lot mean. He knew it, his skull-like features blanching whiter beneath their faded yellow. “Make sure she does her job. She’s your responsibility, Rex. No slacking!” he barked at me, and then he turned tail and ran. I scoffed, “Coward.”

Paperwork was everything on Ov’Korad, and Akrod was the capital of it all. The Ovters loved forms in triplicate. It was the work of a moment to locate a simple employee contract on my datapad, much like mine, and fill it out for Kara. Then I submitted it to the right authorities with a great sense of satisfaction. Who knew I’d ever learn to enjoy paperwork?

Kara was watching me from her spot by the table. She hadn’t resumed cutting the squash, and her knuckles had gone white around the grip of the knife. “Is everything okay?” she asked. When I smiled and nodded, her shoulders lowered, and she drew in a deep breath. Her brown hair reminded me of Jenny’s, but where the former waitress had hair straight as a pin, Kara’s curled in thick ringlets now that it was clean.

I placed my datapad down on the table next to her and scrolled through the options. There, I knew it could show the symbols in her language. When I flicked the button and made the change, Kara drew in a startled breath. “Oh! Can you write me a message like that? Can we talk?”

My chest swelled with happiness when I realized her first thought was about talking to me, rather than what the datapad could do for her. I nodded; switching back and forth so we could both read was a bit of a hassle, but we made it work. “You are safe,” was the first thing I said. “I will protect you.”

Her eyes were a little watery from unshed tears after she read the text, and a tremulous smile graced her pink mouth. “I know that, Rex. I trust you.” She paused, eyes flicking to the datapad and then to the door to the bar. “I was just hired, wasn’t I? Do I have to go out there?” she gestured at the still-quiet barroom. We hadn’t opened yet, but would soon, and I understood her apprehension.

“I’ll share the work. You won’t be in danger. Drova’s crowd is rough, but Jenny managed without harm for a year. He’s an asshole, but he knows he can’t run his business without help. You’ll be fine.” When that seemed to placate her, I turned to eye the work remaining in my kitchen. Drova wouldn’t be doing any prep work in the bar area now that he was actually paying someone to do it for him. It was down to me and Kara.

“Who’s Jenny?” Kara asked, a hint in her voice that I couldn’t quite place. It made my skin tingle when her green eyes locked on mine, my instincts warned me that I had to tread very carefully. Though I didn’t understand why.

Taking the datapad, I pulled up the news articles that were everywhere about Jenny and the Akilad male. The article was headed by a picture of the freckled human girl in the arms of the Akilad, guns blazing. Below it was information on how they were still wanted for the murder of a Sythral male and the disruption they had caused at Drova’s bar two days ago.

“Jenny was the waitress here before you. I didn’t realize in time to help her, but Drova had bought her as a slave. Two days ago, that Akilad male came in here and rescued her. She was my friend, and I didn’t help her. But I’m going to help you.” When Kara read my words, she nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say more, and I missed the sound of her voice. I didn’t know what prompted me to do it, but I picked up the datapad again and typed: “I think the Akilad is her mate. I’m happy for her. My friend deserves happiness. And so do we...”

When she flicked her eyes up to mine, I held her gaze. I didn’t want to write it down where anyone could see; I wanted to tell her with my hands, with my mouth, that she was my mate. But maybe she could read some of that intent in my gaze. My hands flew in the air, saying the things in my heart even though I knew she could not understand them. “You are mine. I will protect you, love you, pleasure you. I will give you everything you need.”

Kara’s eyes dropped from my face to my hands, watching them move with a furrow between her delicately arched eyebrows. It almost seemed like she understood, but then she shook her head. “What about Ker? The sanctuary there... Should we contact the Kertinal authorities? Would they rescue me?”

It was a valid question, but my first instinct was to vehemently deny that it was an option. The truth was, the Kertinillians had no authority on Ov’Korad, and they wouldn’t want to risk disrupting a truce on account of a single human. They were also arrogant enough to try anyway; it would be a blemish on their reputation if word got out that a human had been stolen from under their protection. So yes, if I reached out to the Kertinillian Empire, they probably would help her. But I didn’t want them to—I wanted her to need me. I was a terrible male for not telling her the truth when I wrote: “I will try.”