9. Harper

9

HARPER

I t seems as though every woman in the dining room makes the effort to go past the table of Honey warriors. As word goes around that they mate for life, some women are seeing them as a real alternative. They want love, and a family. Not only doing their bit for the colony. Maybe if there were enough men to go round, the idea of having an alien mate wouldn’t be so appealing.

I gave up trying to keep a man’s attention years ago.

Now the only men interested in me are old enough to be my father. The ones who are my age have already established relationships. The younger men are the ones who have no interest in making a life with only one woman.

That doesn’t stop my gut from churning as the women smile and simper as they walk past. Standing up to the asshole has made Yva a hero.

How many human men view the Honey warriors as a threat?

There are only two of them who are unmated. And the rest of the Honey tribes live across the ocean so it’s not as though they are about to turn up and take a mate.

I’m not going to throw myself at a man…even if my gaze keeps drifting back to Yva.

I t is amazing how many women find an excuse to come to the laundry to check out Yva—either dropping off or collecting their clothes or bedding—and there is far more washing than usual. Even when we return the bags there are women waiting to take them out of his hand.

I want to vomit at the way they smile and lick their lips, but I’m too fucking angry at the way they glare at me. Or act as if I’m not there.

“You are not happy.” Yva says as we walk back after dropping off this morning’s laundry.

I clamp my teeth together. He’s not being obtuse or rude. Rochelle said they are all learning English far quicker than anyone expected—she had been using classes designed for small children before quickly moving on to more complex classes.

“I’m fine,” I snap.

“If you do not want to tell me, that is fine but since I have not lied to you, it is polite not to lie to me.” He stops pulling the cart. “Did I ask the wrong way? I did not want to imply your mood, only to note that I am aware something is amiss.”

I stop walking and turn to face him. “Did you not notice how they behaved?”

“They are trying to get my attention. It is very hard to miss.” He studies me with his weird red eyes. Except they are starting to be less strange now that I’m used to seeing him around. His strength and height no longer seem threatening. And watching him hold a tiny needle to darn a shirt until the rip is almost invisible, made my panties wet. I can’t remember the last time a man did that…

Aside from when he stood up to the soldier in the dining room, but most of the women walked out of there a little damp.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It is not my place to tell them to stop. Besides, I made no agreement to get to know anyone better. You dislike the attention they give me.” He tilts his head, studying me.

I cross my arms and stalk toward the laundry.

I shouldn’t care.

“I haven’t offered to share my jerky with them,” he calls after me.

I’m not sure which meat he’s talking about. “You can’t share your jerky with anyone because you mate for life.”

He laughs and strides toward me, pulling the empty cart. “True, which is why I am not indulging them. They don’t want me. Any man would do.”

“And you think I do?”

He considers me for several seconds. “You don’t giggle and look at me like I am the last piece of jerky after a long winter.”

“I imagine the last piece of jerky is often rotten.”

He nods. “Sometimes, but sometimes people are hungry enough not to care.”

“And how hungry are you?”

His eyebrows lift as if he didn’t expect the question, or understand the implication.

“I mean, you haven’t been with anyone…” there are people walking around and I don’t want them to overhear us talking about sex and mating. “Does that not get lonely?”

He leans in closer. “I have my brothers. I am not lonely.”

I frown as I gaze up at him. Did I not make myself clear? I keep my voice low. “You don’t want to have sex?”

He gives me that smile again, like I’m the one who missed the point. “Unmated warriors find pleasure with each other.”

“Oh.” He’s not a virgin. But he hasn’t been with a woman. “So it is only with women that you mate for life?”

“There is a biological connection that happens. Being without her becomes painful and is most often fatal. Which is why I am cautious, even though this is an opportunity I had never dreamed of… That I didn’t think possible. Banished warriors aren’t chosen. We survive until we are killed.”

“That’s bleak.”

“And what are your options? You do not have a mate…and there are not enough men.”

I snort and take the cart off him. “I was sick of the games, so I quit playing. They always expected more and more just to stick around, only to find out they were seeing other women, anyway. Some of them want a family with all three of their genetic matches, expecting the women to share their attention.”

“Bridget has both Vari and Orik. In some tribes, a woman may take two mates, but in those situations, the men already have a strong affection and do not want to be separated.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what was happening. Besides, I don’t see how a man can satisfy three women.”

“If the women are not also lovers, I understand how that might be a problem. Does that mean when the colony tells you to have children, you will raise them on your own?”

“Ah, you know about that.” I had wondered how much the women told the Honey warriors about our situation. Apparently, they told them everything.

“I do. And my brothers are looking forward to children.”

“Even though they will be someone else’s?” Not that there will ever be Honey-human children, so if they want a family, there isn’t another option.

“Yes, is that so hard to believe?”

“A little. Some men do not want to raise another man’s children.”

“Yet they will not commit to any of the women they are matched to?”

It’s the way he says it that irks me. Like his kind is so superior. So as much as I don’t want to defend those human men, as they don’t deserve it, that is what I find myself doing. “Not all of them. There are plenty of happy couples.” And a few throuples.

“I have upset you again.”

“It’s a delicate subject.” I drag the cart into the building and park it, ready for it to be loaded with the next run.

“Does that mean we should not talk about it?” he asks, refusing to drop the subject.

I exhale and stare at him. “Why do you want to talk about it? Why do you care?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes, even though his lips remain unsmiling. “Why do you care if other women are trying to engage me in conversation?”

“I don’t want you wasting time when there’s work to do,” I snap, and we both know it’s a lie.

“Fine. Do you want me to load up the cart, or would you rather supervise me mending clothing?”

“Load the cart. You can do the next run on your own.” I don’t want to watch the other women fawning over him.

“You aren’t worried that I will waste time talking?” He teases, as a smile dances on his lips.

If I keep talking to him, I’m going to end up losing my shit. Why am I so annoyed with him? With everyone. With this whole damn colony. “No.”

“When you are ready to talk about why you are not fine, you know where to find me.” He stalks over to the pile of bags ready to be returned, grabs an armful as if they weigh nothing, and places them in the cart. We don’t speak for the rest of the day and the only person to blame is me.