3. An Accident

I rubthe tops of my feet back and forth on the soft textured blankets underneath me, stuck somewhere between incredibly rested and not wanting to leave the comfort of my bed.

Stretching my arms over my head, I flop onto my back and open my eyes.

Wait—this isn't my bed! Yesterday's misadventures flood my mind.

Kitaico sits cross-legged, his elbows propped on his knees, observing me like his own personal little museum exhibit.

"You can sleep longer if you want," he says, tilting his head as he looks at me. "Or maybe you're hungry?"

He scrambles to his feet and pulls back one of the woven curtains covering a storage nook in the wall. He produces several pieces of what looks like whole dried fish and offers me one.

I sit on the edge of the bed and take it from his hand. The fish's eyes are dangling from long stalks. I recognize them as the creatures that swam around my bubble after being dropped into this planet's ocean.

I'm momentarily sad, thinking of the glittering school of happy little fish. Everyone's gotta eat, I suppose.

I wrinkle my nose as he snaps the head and tosses it into the pool at the cave's opening. It disappears in a flash, the currents ripping it away. Knowing my luck, I'll roll my ankle and fall ass over tits into the open ocean. I make a mental note to watch my footing around the hole.

Kitaico bites a hunk off the fish and chews.

"It's good—try some," he says with his mouth full. His sharp canines ripped the flesh easily.

I copy his head-snapping technique and throw it toward the water. I miss, and it bonks off the floor and onto Kitaico's chest.

He chuckles, tossing it over his shoulder, and mimes for me to eat mine.

While I love the ocean, fish isn't really my favorite. It doesn't smell too off-putting, though. Not wanting to be rude to this strange man who saved me, I take a bite. Although I wouldn't say I love the flavor, it's not bad, either. It's salty enough to make my mouth water.

It's like fish jerky, and as I chew it, my stomach gurgles. I haven't eaten since long before the Deenz ship unceremoniously dropped my security bubble into the ocean. The dried meat is no burger and fries, but it tastes light-years better than what I've been eating.

The Deenz, the cheap bastards that they are, feed us a gray mush. The flavor and texture combination is really awful. It's like eating paste glue.

I barely realize I've scarfed down the whole fish before Kitaico snaps the head off another and hands it to me. My teeth, not as sharp as my alien friend's, struggle slightly to bite off hunks.

"Do you like it?"

I nod but turn down a third fish when he offers it. Kitaico's eyes light up with some weird sort of pride as I eat.

I'm curious if his people cook at all. The fish wouldn't be half bad rehydrated in a soup.

"Thank you, Kitaico—I'm stuffed, really." I put a hand up in refusal.

His eyes light up when I say his name, his skin rippling with red before settling down to its usual coloring of yellow with blue rings. I wonder if he has any control over his camouflaging skin, or if it feels like breathing, changing subconsciously.

"I am pleased you liked the dredlin." He puffs out his chest.

"Dredlin," I repeat. That's what these little creatures are called?

"Your accent is good. I'm surprised." Kitaico cocks his head. "Have you ever met another of my kind?"

"No," I tell him, shaking my head. I've met lots of aliens, but nothing quite like him.

"That makes sense. I don't think any Andjin has ever met one of your kind either. What is your species? Where are you from?"

"Human," I say, placing my hand to my chest. "Earth." I point upward.

"A human from Earth," he confirms. "Do you have a family on Earth?"

"No, not anymore." I think about my grandmother, who raised me, and my heart stings at the loss of her.

"I'm sorry…it is a great sadness to bear being alone." His eyes grow distant.

"Do you have a family?" I gesture to him.

"Family? Yes, I have both my parents and two brothers who live in the capital. I haven't seen them in many cycles, though—I miss them deeply. My brothers will be grown men when I next see them." A sadness creeps into his voice. I want to ask why he can't go to them, but I don't have a way to convey that with gestures alone.

"Do you have a mate?" he asks, the words rushing out.

A mate? Like a boyfriend or a husband? Even on Earth, I was chronically single.

"No."

"You're unmated and alone…that is incredibly dangerous. You are lucky to have found me and not an exiled male…who knows what would have happened to you!"

He gets flustered and doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. They slide back over his head tentacles, and he fiddles with one in particular near his ear.

Being single on this planet seems to be a very bad thing. I gesture to him to ask if he has a mate.

"A mate? I am not yet worthy, but hopefully soon." He stands, putting his hands on his hips and surveys the cave with a broad smile, his pride akin to a midwestern dad standing on a newly built deck. "This nest is almost ready for a mate's inspection. Just a few more things to prepare."

His stance makes his crotch jut forward, and I try once again not to stare at his bizarre alien cock. Although I've gotten used to nudity, something embarrasses me at how casual he is with his nakedness.

His tentacles, on both his head and dick, are always subtly in motion. I gaze to the side to avoid staring at their gentle pulsating.

The alien must understand my shyness, and he gives me more space as if he's trying to be polite. Keeping his voice low, he asks me if I need anything.

Shifting in the bed, my full bladder pinches in my belly, and I clench my pelvic floor.

"God, I don't know if you'll be able to understand me…but is there a restroom in this place?" I say, trying to figure out the best way to convey that I need the ladies' room.

"I don't understand…maybe you can show me?"

Geez, I don't want to show him I have to pee…but I also don't want to piss myself either. I grit my teeth and take a breath.

I look him dead in his big curious eyes—then I gesture to my crotch and signal a stream of pee with my hands. I even make a whizzing noise with my mouth. It is not my finest moment.

"Pee?" I say in my weakest of voices.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, yes…" He bites his lip and turns. "Follow me."

He leads me to the far corner of the room. The floor holds a tiny tunnel full of swirling water. It's like a miniature of the opening we came in before, and I stifle the awkward laugh that is bubbling inside my chest.

The toilet is very much in the open, and while I wouldn't say I'm modest…I wouldn't say I like using the commode in front of anyone.

"You can use the relief spot whenever needed…you can do anything you'd like really in the nest until I can take you to the capital. We'll leave when it comes time for my next assessment. It's against tradition to leave my nest before that point. I would take you there sooner was this not the case…but I cannot risk being eliminated." He stares at me as if expecting a response he could understand.

"Can you turn around at least?" I wince, crossing my legs. I add a finger motion for good measure.

"Oh, my apologies," he mumbles, quickly covering his eyes and spinning away from me.

At least I don't have to get any more naked than need be with these strappy bodysuits all the bubble babes wear. I pull the crotch to the side while standing over the pool and take what feels like the longest, loudest pee of my life. The little water vortex spins the waste out quickly, and clean salt water replaces it. There's no toilet paper around, so I splash some of the cool seawater onto my crotch, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

"I'm done!" I yell over to him, and he swivels, peeking through his fingers to ensure I'm not still doing my business.

"Well, I suppose you should make yourself comfortable. I need to complete a few things around the nest."

I nod, returning to the bed, unsure of what to do with myself.

Sitting on its edge, I watch Kitaico get to work. He hauls up a line of the dredlin fish from the entrance pool—I wonder if he caught them while I slept.

His yellow fingers work swiftly, threading a cord through the gills and out of their mouths. He rips the line and ties up several in a bundle that he hangs from the ceiling—I assume to dry them and create the jerky I just inhaled. He barely pays attention to his hands, repeatedly turning back to check on me.

He has the look of my grandmother when she would make pierogi. I remember watching her hands move, seemingly on their own accord, as she gossiped with our neighbors. Her twisting and pinching of the dough was just some muscle memory forged long ago.

My travels as a bubble babe through space have proven that kindness isn't universal. I'm lucky that someone like Kitaico rescued me.

As he works, his back flexes, his muscles and lines are so close to that of a human body. It makes me wonder if maybe we share some distant ancestor. I mean, minus the head and dick tentacles. What if the eccentrics on Ancient Aliens aren't too off the mark?

Should I worry about what the elders of his people want to do with me? Probably. But I find myself unconcerned. If Kitaico treats me so kindly, surely his people are good.

I can't go home to Earth. The Deenz regularly told us it's off-limits. Before the Deenz decontaminate us, humans carry germs that could wipe out alien civilizations. Only the Deenz have the security clearance to "recruit" women from Earth.

Recruit and kidnap are interchangeable words, I guess.

I snap myself out of thinking about my former captors when I hear Kitaico yawn.

"Didn't sleep well?" I ask as if he can understand me. He looks at me and smiles before promptly yawning again.

Appraising the cave we're in, I come to a realization. While it's not cramped by any means…it's not some expansive place. The glow of the worms on the ceiling illuminates every corner.

There's one bed.

Of course, he didn't sleep well. I slept in the only bed, and he likely stayed up and kept watch. I'm a fucking awful guest.

He needs some sleep too. Could I convince him to take a nap? I rise from the bed and slip beside him as he works.

"You sleep now," I tell him slowly, pointing to the bed and taking the cord from his hands. "I'll do this. It doesn't look too hard." I point to the fish, which he begrudgingly hands over.

He twitches slightly and his skin ripples in waves of colors as our fingertips touch.

"You don't have to—" he starts.

"Bed. Now," I say, pointing more dramatically this time.

"Well, if you insist, I could use some rest…" He finishes his statement with another big yawn.

He sits on the edge of the bed with heavy lids and watches me work.

"You're pretty good at that, you know?" He cocks a brow. "Don't tell me I managed to save a huntress?"

I smirk and wave for him to lie back. A huntress? The thought makes me laugh. I don't know how to tell him I'm a city-loving tattoo artist. Cities and tattoos probably aren't even a thing on this planet.

He plops onto his bed with a thud, and I swear I can hear him snoring shortly after that.

After my dramatic rescue, throwing some of these weird little fish up to dry is the least I can do.

When I get about seven fish threaded on the line, I attempt to rip the cord to hang it up…but Kitaico made it look deceptively easy! No matter how hard I tug, I can't get the line to snap like he did.

He must have had some knife or blade I didn't know about.

I sneak over to the bed to see if he had set something down. I kneel beside him and check to see if he's still sleeping.

His breath is even, and his eyes are shut. I don't want to disturb the obviously tired alien, so I continue to snoop. When I stand, I catch the blue glint of something in his hand.

The silly guy must have been so tired he didn't give it to me. I kneel on the bed and reach my fingers carefully over him to his far hand. I can't make out the knife well. This half of the bed is shadowed in the darkness of the nook.

With my forefinger and thumb, I gently pinch the blade out of his hand.

The second my skin makes contact with what I assume was a knife, the hard nub opens like a petal. Before I can draw my hand back, it snaps shut over the meat of my palm, and pain courses through me.

Kitaico jerks and his hand grabs my wrist as he sits up like a bolt.

"Leeenuh, what are you doing?" He mutters, confused, before his hand tightens—his body goes ramrod straight as he flops back.

At this point, I realize it's not a blade…it's a barb and part of his body.

Stinging discomfort shoots up my arm as Kitaico writhes beside me. His face twisted in some rapture.

"Kitaico, what's happening?" I yell, trying to tug my hand free.

His longer two head tentacles wrap around me, pulling my body flat against his. The air leaves my chest with the force of the movement. We're face to face, our skin pressed up against each other, and his body is feverishly hot.

He grabs my other hand and forces our palms together. His hips grind, and I can feel his cock hardening.

No, no, no, no, no…

"Kitaico, this hurts," I say meekly, my voice almost a whisper. My past traumas force me to be as quiet and as small as I can.

His eyes shoot open when I say his name again, and he releases me, pushing my body roughly into the far end of the bed.

The alien's body pulses in waves of black and red. The chaotic display of color deepens my fear.

He looks at his palm, the barb retracting quickly into his skin as if it was never there. His eyes raise to me, his mouth agape.

"How did you—" he looks at his other palm, gently tracing a finger down it. "There's no mark…"

I clutch my hand against my chest, the pain from his sting radiating all up my right side. There's a red starburst mark around the wound, and it throbs torturously.

"Why would you do this?" His face is splashed with hurt.

"Me? I didn't do anything!" I yelp, shaking my head, the stinging pain only deepening as the second tick by.

"You took my mating sting…but gave me nothing in return…" He looks at his palm once more. "Do you choose to reject me?"

His eyes don't leave his hand.

"I don't have a fucking stinger," I tell him, tucking my injured hand under my armpit. I hold up the other palm and try to show him.

The alien takes my hand in his, prodding the flesh at the heel of my palm, looking for a bony barb that isn't there.

"This can't be." He scowls.

"What can't be?" I ask as fat tears run down my face. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to dull the pain now overtaking my whole body.

"Do you know what you've done?" Kitaico asks gravely.

I shake my head. He lets out a painful-sounding breath.

"I have marked you as my mate…but you cannot reciprocate. You are my mate, but I am not yours."

"I didn't know, I was looking for a knife, I wanted to help!" The pain is making me ramble. I shake my head over and over again.

"I will belong to no one now."

Kitaico is defeated as he stands. He grabs a square of woven cloth and dips it into one of the pools of water. He attempts to pass it to me, but I don't take it.

"I am sorry for your pain. It will subside soon." He pulls my hand out from under my arm and places the cool cloth onto the puncture wound. "We have much to discuss, and not long before the venom takes effect."

Shit.