Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I am impressed, and also immediately ashamed. I decide he must never know how poor I am compared to him, though I am about to take him home to my ancient farm house and barely livable asteroid.
“Which ship is yours?” He asks the question so he can grab mine and put it in his transport hold, but I am too embarrassed to point out the patched up old junker I’ve been flying. It used to belong to my grandfather. It was his absolute pride and joy, which only makes me feel more shame now that I am betraying his memory.
“Wow!” I exclaim. “I’ve got no idea. So weird. Huh! Do you think it has been stolen? Aw, man. Damn. Shucks!” I start pulling out phrases from the very long ago in order to pretend to be very angry about all this. Azlan’s golden eyes flick over me. We just met. He doesn’t know me very well. There’s a chance he might fall for this act of mine.
Azlan plucks the parking ticket sticking out of the pocket of my overalls and locates my shameful ship with his eyes in about two seconds flat, which means now I’m embarrassed about my shitty ship, and about being caught out lying about it.
“There it is,” he says. “You must have missed it.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Of course. There it is. Haha! Silly me! LOL!” I say LOL just like that, another incredibly outdated acronym that doesn’t appear in the general galactic tongue but makes significant appearance in my own vocabulary of cringe.
“Easy to do in a busy port,” he rumbles.
He’s very charitable, but we both know what just happened here. Azlan, I am learning, is a gentleman. That makes his presence here even stranger. Gentlemen of his calibre and riches do not come to backwaters to buy mates. They are absolutely swarmed by hopeful females begging to be mated.
“Oh yes! I couldn’t see it because of the, er, you know, the angle.”
“Indeed,” he says, continuing to let me save face. “Angles can be very difficult.”
He leads me toward the glittering gangway of his vessel. I hesitate before putting a foot on it, and he humors me by not simply lifting me up and carrying me on. I cannot forget that this alien believes he owns me. I have become his property in his mind, as much as he has become my property in my mind, though the practicalities of ownership still escape me.
I look up at him, wondering if it is a smart idea to ask this question. “Why is someone like you buying a mate?”
He answers me patiently, even as the dock starts to become very sparse. Most of the other ships have already fled, but he has time to set my mind at ease. “It has been made clear to me that it is my job to provide the family with heirs, and that my position among my pride depends on it.”
“So why would you want a human mate?”
He shifts uncomfortably, as if he does not want to answer the question. To his credit, he does, even though the answer is not flattering to either one of us.
“Humans are small and easy to control. I do not have time to hunt and tame a female of my own species. You will be much easier to handle.”
At first I just smirk a little, but then I can’t help it. A full blown laugh escapes me. He has absolutely no idea who he has bought.
“You see? You laugh at the realization of your marital captivity. A female of my own species would attempt to disembowel me as a means of testing me.”
“The female of the species is more deadly than the male,” I quip.
“Yes,” he agrees. “Scientifically proven. Now, please, let us go. I have reason to believe the law will be raiding this station soon.”
I resist just a little, because I have to make absolutely, doubly, triply sure that he is really going to help me.
“Sure. But we’re going to my farm, right? You’re going to help me fend off the Growlers, right? Because I’m not going to pretend to be your bride if you don’t.”
I am now holding onto the gangway just sort of casually, but also quite tightly. I want a promise before I agree to go with him. A pinky swear, if he had a pinky. I suppose he technically does, but it’s more like a huge furry.
“You’re not going to pretend to be my bride,” he says. “You are going to be my mate. It will be undeniable when I present you to my pride. You will not have to prove a thing, and nor will I.”
I’m not so sure about that. He assumes he’s bought some submissive human who will play a dutiful part in his charade. I’ve never been submissive, and I have no intention of leaving my farm. But I need for him to come with me and help me, and I guess if he does…