3. Olivia

Chapter 3

Olivia

T his party sucked. Not only was it noisy and warm, but the eggnog also tasted awful, and it seemed like everyone on the damn space station was trying to get into my pants. From the moment we’d arrived, hordes had descended on the bar to gawk, stare, and then flirt with me or my fellow humans. They seemed to be gobbling it up, basking in the attention as if they were all rock stars or something.

The one upside to it all was that it kept Eli occupied; he was enjoying himself with the handful of pretty alien women who had gathered around him. I knew humans were coveted, but like this? I had no idea. I thought I was going to enjoy seeing a space station, but at this rate, all I’d be seeing were alien chests and the inside of the ship or this bar. There was no way Stella and Ru’ol were going to let me go off on my own for a bit of exploring.

Maybe I could sneak off. The crowd was big enough; they might not notice if I tried to get away. But the crowd turned out to be the problem; I couldn’t worm my way through the mass without receiving dozens of propositions and leers, and getting to the door was impossible. I retreated to a corner instead and just stewed, glaring at anyone who tried to approach to warn them away. That was working, sort of, but it wasn’t fun, and then it stopped working altogether.

He was huge, the biggest freaking alien I’d ever laid eyes on. His head nearly reached the tall ceiling, his shoulders were as wide as a barn, and his entire body was covered in a fine blue pelt. There was nothing even remotely human about him, except for the matching number of limbs and eyes. If there was ever an alien that resembled a monster—a snow yeti, maybe—it was this one, and he had locked onto my position.

His pelt was soft and short in some areas, like his abdomen, revealing an impressive six-pack, but shaggy and long in others, like his shoulders and along his massive thighs. Of course, this alien wore nothing except a weapon belt diagonally across his chest and a snug loincloth to cover his private bits. He looked like a blue Chewbacca or something, but his face was different—scarier, and at the same time, prettier too.

Then he smiled. At least, I thought it was meant to be a smile, but his head seemed to split in half. That maw was huge. I saw rows of sharp teeth and a dark gullet that looked big enough to actually fit my head; the thought made me a little nauseous. When that mouth snapped shut, it was the look in his azure eyes that made my heart race for entirely different reasons. He saw me; he saw right through me.

“Hello,” he said, and my translator implants picked up his language flawlessly. It sounded like English in my mind. I couldn’t even discern what he actually sounded like. It was probably something growly and guttural, given his size and appearance. I imagined I could feel the air vibrate between us from just that one word. “Can you tell me what the blazing sun is going on in here?” He gestured up at the festive garlands, then tilted his head toward the giant, fully decked-out Christmas tree that stood in pride of place in one corner.

“It’s a Christmas celebration,” I said, raising my glass of imitation eggnog. “A human tradition.” I hadn’t meant it as an invitation, but he bent over, dropping his head all the way down to my cup to take a deep, long sniff. It was like he was folding himself in half; he had to lean down so far.

While he was sniffing the fake eggnog and pulling a disgusted expression, I was struck by his scent. It rose from his blue pelt, a male musk, a hint of something I couldn’t place but found very pleasant, and a final note that was unmistakably ginger. The scent startled me. How could he smell like ginger? It was not a spice that got exported all the way to the Zeta Quadrant, but there it was.

He made me think of gingerbread, which was so very Christmassy. It sparked a warmth in my chest that finally brought me into a more festive mood. Scents were powerful like that, and this one in particular reminded me of home. It brought me back to the kitchen at my grandmother’s home, of Christmas and baking gingerbread with her. It reminded me of the white frosting that got everywhere as we decorated.

“I see,” he said as he rose again, though it was very clear that he did not, in fact, see anything. He gave the Christmas tree another dubious glance and then curled his nose at the eggnog clinging to my glass with obvious disgust. It made me laugh, the sound bubbling out of my chest and catching me completely by surprise.

This guy was huge; his head was nearly touching the garlands. His blue fur and enormous mouth made him look extremely unapproachable and hostile. I should have felt intimidated and wary around him, but instead, he made me feel like myself for the first time in ages. I’d always enjoyed sparring with someone, verbally at least.

I leaned to the side and ditched the glass on a nearby table, then dared to step a little closer to the huge Yeti dude. “I’m Olivia,” I said to him, and I held out my hand. I had to laugh when he leaned in to give my fingers a sniff. His fur brushed my fingers as he tilted his big head sideways and winked with one pretty cerulean eye. Oh, he was playful, a little cheeky; he knew he wasn’t supposed to do that.

Warmth flushed my system, taking me completely by surprise. He looked appreciative as he drew my scent into his lungs; he looked like he was enjoying himself. Was he flirting with me? If so, his approach was far more unconventional than those of the many other aliens in this bar, but I liked it. It was kind of refreshing.

“I’m Kyavri,” he answered. As he straightened to his full height again, he enveloped my fingers with one massive blue paw. His fur was short on the inside of his palm, soft like suede, and his grip was warm as a furnace. I had to suppress a pleasant shiver and found a grin stretching my cheeks that felt both familiar and very foreign. Yeah, that was more like the old me; I hadn’t felt like grinning like this in over a year. Not since the sham of a trial and our subsequent asylum with the Kertinal.

“Nice to meet you, Kyavri. What brings you here?” I asked. It wasn’t the most original question, but I wanted to keep talking to him. I wanted to keep feeling like this, like I was me again—the Olivia from before the disaster that ruined my life.