Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He examines the horizon in all directions. “There are a few herds around us. They should be harmless—herbivores. Placid.”
He gets up and reaches a hand down for me.
“Thank you.” I smile as I stand and look around. I’ve never seen a wild animal before. The grazing beasts are striped brown and white, colors that blend into the landscape. Their horns are impossibly curled, corkscrew twists that glint amber in the light. They’re spectacular to me. “We’re safe.”
“It seems so,” he says, but frowns. He examines the distance again and blinks. “I don’t see anything else.” He hesitates, as if something is bothering him. He looks up at the sky, where the previous gorgeous pinks and oranges have been obscured by thick gray clouds, long like blankets. “Let’s keep going before the weather changes.”
He’s moving fast again, almost jogging, and despite my much shorter legs, I keep up effortlessly, thanks to years of muscle fiber enhancement drug therapy.
In a minute, we near a small patch of scraggly trees, almost like a wind-line, and beyond that is a vast field of flowers. A few of them, smaller but no less gorgeous, grow amongst the trees. All of the flowers are blue, but my eyes zero in on the ones that I remember: These are the ones I need—I recognize them.
I catch my breath. “They’re really here.”
The relief I feel is almost unbearable. “We can get them.” My voice catches. I crouch down and reach out, touching the nearest one. With these, I can survive without the Kraa. “I can get them.” The petals are soft and springy, and my finger glides softly down the stem. “Look, Khrys. See how this one has a slight sheen on it?” I touch it lightly. “This is the one.” I point to the flower next to it. “This one is darker, just a bit. It doesn’t have the right pollen.”
He looks intently, bends down to examine it, too. “Got it.”
I smell the flower. “It’s like life incarnate.” I close my eyes for a second.
“Don’t let your guard down now,” Khrys warns. He’s back on his feet, and his stance is that of a warrior, peering around. “Work fast. I have a bad feeling about this place.”
“We’re alone, except for the antlex. Right?” It’s beautiful and empty, even with the darkening skies, just us and some far off animals and the rolling fields, miles of them, as far as the eye can see. There’s a closer herd of antlex, too. Their musky odor drifts over on the breeze, mixing with the fresh scent of the fields.
“Why do you have a bad feeling?” He is a warrior, after all. I should pay attention to his intuition. I stand up and check the area, but I don’t see or hear anything unusual.
“It seems too easy.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not used to simple situations. But the only thing around is the beasts.” He shakes his head. “Keep an eye out while you work.”
I slide the first canvas bag off my shoulder, pull on the gloves, and remove the shears. Holding them in my gloved hand, I bend down. “Get as many as you can,” I urge, but he’s already busy and has half a bag filled.
The stalks are thick and reedy, but the sharp blades cut them like water. The pale blue blossoms are heavy with thick yellow pollen. On the ripest plants, the heads hang low, weighed down by their golden treasure.
“So many,” I whisper, piling flower after flower into my bag. On a whim, I taste some pollen, wondering if extra doses can keep me headache-free longer. It’s got a neutral taste, but is oddly appealing, so I eat more. Then I stuff some flowers into the pocket of my jacket, just in case I need them later. I feel the urgent need to have them on my person at all times.
“On Zandia, we have ag experts who can figure out how to make these grow.” Khrys looks at me. “Humans, Kailani.” He’s digging up a few by the roots and placing them into storage bags with root support.
“Slaves?”
“Not slaves. Humans must have a Zandian sponsor—a master, if you will, and they must be contributing members of society, but they are free. I told you that.”
“Free but with masters.”
“Yes. Usually their mate.”
Mate. I dart a look at him, heat suddenly swirling between my legs.
Would he be my mate? My sponsor?
My...master? I hated the word before now, but remembering the way he corrected me on the ship, I might not find such a master so unappealing.
I sneak a glance at his impossibly large hands. The way his horns tilt and lean in my direction when he catches me looking. His nostrils flare like he catches my scent, and I flush, realizing, suddenly, what he must smell.
My arousal. I’m wet for him. What would it be like to breed with such a male? I’ve never thought of such a thing without shuddering, but now, I find myself suddenly quite interested.