Page 22 of 80% Beef 20% Cake (Alien Fated Mates #2)

22

C rouched in the back of our small magma-lit cave the next morning, I opened the hooks on JayJay’s duffel bag and slammed stacks of folded clothes inside.

“Giant, stubborn Rock Dweller.” I swore under my breath. Dr. Ten hadn’t healed JayJay enough for him to gallivant around an enormous volcano as if he were invincible. And he shouldn’t be in the mentally taxing command center, volunteering to be thrown off his hoverbike again. Now I understood women who complained about men with hero complexes. The stupid oaf did nothing but put himself in harm’s way.

The clothes I’d completed stretched the seams of JayJay’s large bag as I jammed Sisip’s soft linobee shirt on top. How dare Sisip suggest JayJay meet with the wretched traitor responsible for banishing him from Yagras? If she didn’t watch her step, I would alter the shirt to fit Shaheel’s wings instead.

To the outside of the bag, I tied D’Argon’s boxer-style leather headgear. My trembling fingers itched to drag JayJay back to his sickbed. Cheeks hot, I jumped on limber legs from our room, ignoring the step. My heart’s desires grew harder and harder to ignore.

Whenever I was in JayJay’s presence, his intense gaze followed my every move, reeling me in, and the deep rasp of his voice lit up a hungry space low in my belly. But last night had been different. Our relationship had moved beyond medical treatment. If he suffered another serious injury… My heart clunked and stalled… I didn’t know what I’d do.

Maybe I’m stuck on Tern for a reason. Maybe we need to take care of each other.

An enormous bag of lunal leaned against the door to our room, so I hopped back inside to grab the heavy-duty clippers and knitting needles. Good. I’d have a distraction to keep my mind off JayJay today.

I skipped past smooth cylindrical mushrooms dressed in vivid orange lace skirts. They grew from the turquoise moss in seams fed from the magma far below. Dragonfly-type creatures fanned out across the ground, forming a glowing mandala where they rested their translucent wings. Beautiful.

I waved to the dark-skinned Boola on kitchen duty before finding a seat in the shared eating and work space. A couple of Nacers swung on the vine swings, dangling from the ceiling, their wings pumping behind them.

“Morning, Ginger.” Shaheel’s white Nacer wings fluttered, then settled, the splinted one a stiff triangle on one side, the other folded down her back.

I plunked my overflowing bag beside her table and picked up a leaf, similar to cabbage, wrapped around shredded mantu and cubed tinga. “Morning.” I sat beside her.

Her head jerked to the side. “What is all this?” She spread her hand over the bags of lunal weed and hides.

I’d experimented with a few things, but discovering the flexible weed could be knitted had significantly sped up the chain mail-making process. No more creating one ring at a time and crimping it shut through another.

Shaheel poked her beak into the bag of lunal. “And why are you in a huffy puffy?” She’d warmed up to me after JayJay had worn his armor, realizing my earlier offer to make her clothes had been genuine.

I tore into my wrap, chewing so hard my jaw ached. “JayJay’s with the representative from Yagras right now.”

Shaheel’s beak clacked. “Is he not the one bringing us the weapon to kill the hellsna?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to trust him. Plus, JayJay warned us not to.” I swallowed the rest of my wrap and popped a cube of blue tinga that had fallen to the tray into my mouth. Sucking on the sweet, cucumber-like juice, I let my gaze travel down the food line, landing on Makir.

“Makir!” I waved him over to our table. He sat across from us in a grease-smeared jumpsuit. He must have come fresh from the temporary hoverbay.

“I gotta hand it to you, Ginge”—his long, thin tail wrapped around my waist, the fluffy tip swaying side to side—“I have a steady stream of parts coming in. All thanks to you.”

“I listened to D’ovey and put an idea in motion. That’s it. Nothing really.”

On the ground beside us, lunal soaked in mantu bladder baskets filled with javae. The astringent liquid softened the tough fibers until they were pliable enough to work. After pulling a long, coppery strand of lunal from the basket, I looped the weed around my finger and wove it over the largest knitting needle I’d brought.

“You can thank D’ovey, TeyTey, all the injured here and the enforcers on their days off for making it work.” My needles clicked against the steely fiber. So much slower than knitting with wool or a polyester blend or anything back on Earth, except for those mixes with long glittery strings.

Shaheel’s beak clacked. “Ah, that reminds me. I need to get a basket of tinga to D’ovey. He’s exchanging them for wow-ees.” She spread her splinted wing over the lunal again. “Then I’ll be back to help you with whatever this is.”

“Hey—” I shouted at her departing back. “Can you check whether the update I sent on JayJay’s health status went through?” Every time I moved within range, coms poured in from the Rock Dwellers and concerned townsfolk.

Shaheel tilted her head to the side in a sharp jerk of acknowledgment before striding away.

Makir’s eyes narrowed and focused on the chain mail forming under my fingers. “So this is how you transform that blanting weed that tries to kill me every time I’m in the wastelands into something that’s turned JayJay into the talk of Yurstille.”

“Here”—I thrust a knitting needle into his hands—“if you’ve got time to tease, you’ve got time to learn how to make chain mail.” I grinned.

Makir held up his blue palms and backed away. “I need to return to the hoverbay.” His tail squeezed my waist before he scampered off.

Worried about JayJay, I stared past the black stalactites growing from the domed ceiling and watched the moisture drip from their calcified branches and pool in the frilled mushrooms stacked below, a humid symphony.

Saluda slammed a cup of javae onto the table, startling me.

“We’ll help.” Smoke puffed from his nose.

Shaheel had also returned, and with her, an agitated, tight-lipped group of enforcers—Saluda, Hill, Efred and D’unter. Shouldn’t they be with JayJay?

“Is JayJay okay?” The idea of JayJay standing face-to-face with the person who’d destroyed his life made my stomach turn.

It must be killing him.

One of my knitting needles dropped into the moss, spearing it, and though I’d yet to meet him, I wished it were Devile impaled by its pointy tip. “Who’s going to help him back through the tunnel?”

D’unter’s razor-sharp teeth, sinister in his anger, flashed. “He’s fine.” The Boola fisted the thick needles like knives before he glanced at me, waiting for instruction. Voice softer, he continued, “Really, try not to worry. He’s doing much better.”

I adjusted the coppery weed in Hill’s very human hands. “Pass the lunal over your pinkie, under the third and middle fingers, and over your index finger. To create more tension, you can loop it.”

“This stuff is blanting stiff.” Efred’s Drack scales shimmered under the hung lights.

“Look, our talons work way better than this smooth point to get it on the stick.” Saluda showed Efred.

Shaheel twittered a tune that matched the beat of her needles knocking together. “This will be lightweight and flexible enough to fly in. Oh, no—”

Shaheel passed me the stretch of rings she’d been knitting, and I reworked her skipped stitch.

As Shaheel and JayJay’s team surrounded me, knitting, the strange, brimming frustration emanating from them eased. With five sets of chain mail on the way, my mind wandered back to how perfect last night had been.

JayJay stumbled into our cozy cave, exhausted. In four strides, he’d limped around our small cave, inquiring over every recent addition, spreading his shower-fresh scent everywhere. My attempts to ignore him after he’d decided to go for a walk when he should’ve been healing in bed proved futile. I messed up a tricky stitch on the helmet and stabbed myself with the awl.

“ Shit, ” I hissed, sucking on the pad of my thumb.

“ Let me see. ” JayJay placed the helmet on my sewing table, bringing my thumb to his velvety lips. Like a conduit, an electric tingle shot from his lips to my thumb, straight up my arm, and jump-started my heart. Then he picked me up and placed me on the mossy bed.

“ Put me down. Your ribs are healing. ” My anger at him for lifting me faded when he nuzzled behind my ear.

His deep voice rumbled, rolling over me like a physical touch. “ You need another treatment. ”

I nodded, caught in his trance.

He stripped my boots, pants and panties off. In the next flash, he’d unlaced his pants. His thick cock — or coil, as he called it — stood tall and proud in his massive hand before he hauled me over his lap.

My mouth watered as he stroked the thick length, and I whimpered when his thumb circled my clit to the same rhythm. JayJay slipped his hands under my shirt, lifting it over my head in one smooth movement when it got in his way. Every so often, in his slow seduction, he leaned his cock forward and nudged my center with the tip.

“ Please, ” I begged, fisting the soft hide shirt. “ I need your skin against me. ” His rumba sent waves of heat to my lower belly as the thick slabs of muscle lining his abdomen and torso came into view.

He curled down, palming his rib as an afterthought, and swept his hot tongue over my nipples. “ These are mine. ”

I shuddered with each nip and nudge, my hands skating over his velvety skin, skimming his chest and landing on his flexed arms.

He circled his plump head against my opening a few times, stoking the fire higher before he coaxed his ringed coil inside. Just the tip. So good. His eyes devoured me, and I trembled under his gaze. The intensity scared me, but I couldn’t look away.

“ I’m the only male for you. ” Gentle hands guided my hips as he whispered in my ear, rocking me back and forth in tiny increments.

My fingernails dug into his triceps as his careful thrusts worked me over until every nerve lit up. “ You’re the one. ” I groaned as he spent inside me, sending me over the edge.

JayJay pulled me into the cradle of his arms, settled into the blanket, and tucked my chin against his chest. One of his calloused fingers brushed under my eye, and his low voice whispered over the deep purr in his chest, “ I don’t want to see any shadows here tomorrow. ” Moments later, he’d fallen asleep.

“You know what’s weird, though?” Saluda cursed as he dropped a stitch and tried to recover it. “That Rock Dweller, Devile, he was looking at Protector intensely. Like, really intensely.”

Snapping out of my daydream at the mention of JayJay, I tuned in to the surrounding conversation. Though my body throbbed with need and I would’ve jumped at the chance to get naked with JayJay again, all my nerves were heightened with fear.

Smoke trailed from Efred’s nose. “Of course he was. He has a total hard-on for Protector JayJay. That’s the lying bastard who sent him here.”

Hill’s freckles matched the lunal’s copper in the brighter light. “It’s more than that, though. Saluda’s right. Something else is going on.”

The points of D’unter’s teeth ground over each other like saws. “And kicking us out just because I asked to see the bloodroot fungus… What the blant was that about?”

Shaheel’s splinted wing jerked.

I need to make sure JayJay’s okay.

“I’m going to make a few deliveries.” Crouching, I lifted the boxer-style helmet I’d made for D’Argon that matched his brother, D’Rasma’s. Next, I pulled out Hill’s tailored pants and a shirt I’d completed for Sisip. Handing Hill his pants, I asked, “Can you just pop these supplies back in front of JayJay’s door when you’re finished?”

He nodded. “Best stay away from Devile, right, Ginger?”

“Yep.” I had no interest in Devile besides punching him in the nose.

Before I left, I snapped a picture of my friends to admire later. Smiling as I walked, I contemplated the universal power of a knitting circle. But concern over JayJay soon took over, and I raced through the tunnel clutching the bundle of clothes, thanking whoever had thought to hang lights. I owed them big time.

I hoped the flimsy excuse of a clothing delivery would be enough to get me close to Sisip, who must be near JayJay. I had to see with my own two eyes that he was okay.

Voices grew louder as I approached the volcano’s entrance. Fresh, cool air filled my lungs, and I stumbled as my eyes adjusted to the brighter light. The lift tube opened as I rushed by, and Geo heaved an enormous, ornate chair out of it. A Boola I didn’t know followed with an identical version. Both men were huffing.

“Are we expecting royalty?” I paused, leaning into my best friend and giving him a one-armed hug.

Geo squeezed me back, but his shoulders remained rigid. “Don’t be giving the mayor any more grand ideas. He’d love to remake his silly statue all over again with a crown on his head.”

“Then I’d have to sneak in and paint a mustache over his lips in the middle of the night.” I laughed. My lungs expanded without their usual constraints, and though worry for JayJay slithered under my skin, I felt strong enough to take on the world. Geo grumbled while he dragged the heavy chair toward the alcove off command central, where I presumed Sisip held council with Yurst.

“Can you believe the waste of time and resources? Sending us to town for a couple of chairs. It’s ludicrous.” Geo rubbed his hand over his beard, his soft belly stretching his overalls as he blew out a breath. He continued muttering something about being up half the night to fit a door to a ‘conference room’ while we walked.

When we reached the alcove, the Boola enforcer knocked with so much strength the hinges rattled. Sisip opened the door. Behind her, a long table covered in a navy cloth stood, heaped with bowls of fruit, graneth puffs, mantu meat and cups of the sludge Ternians liked to pass off for coffee.

Around it sat JayJay, his forehead ridge buried so deep in his head it might never come out. I took in his stiff posture—his ribs must have been killing him. D’irk fiddled with a heap of shredded paper in front of him, and Yurst fawned over the stranger beside him—the smallest Rock Dweller I’d ever seen.

JayJay’s eyes connected with mine, and he bolted upward, coming to my side as if driven by instinct. He didn’t limp. Strong and beautiful, his oil slick-tinted skin shone in the natural light beaming through a small opening overhead. In his deep plum leather pants and sleeveless tunic, his bulging arm muscles glistened under the copper chain mail. I swallowed the lump in my throat and squeezed my thighs together as arousal washed through me. With a wolfish stride, he stopped a hairsbreadth from me. Holy hotness.

“Is everything all right?” Though the deep rumble of his voice turned heads, it didn’t startle me. Where I’d once jumped at his boom, now the deep bass warmed me like a caress. A smile lit up his eyes.

My palm, without thought, landed on his chest. The steady thrum of his heart reverberated through my arm, and his forehead ridge started to unfurrow. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I finished Sisip’s shirt, so I thought I’d bring it by.” I held up the leather shirt with one limp wrist. I brought a shirt. OMG, can I get any more ridiculous?

Sisip turned off the projection floating over the table and straightened her long whiskers. “Thank you, Ginger.” Her neck stretched from one side to the other. “Perfect timing. I believe everyone could use a break—”

“Ah, the chairs!” Yurst interrupted her. He scuttled out of a perfectly fine chair and waved Geo and the Boola enforcer in. “Much more appropriate for our esteemed guest. Yet again, I apologize for these deplorable conditions.” The mayor waved his tawny hand over the transformed space. “I presumed we’d be arriving at a fully equipped command station.”

What Geo had accomplished overnight was incredible. Besides the door and long table, Geo had smoothed a portion of the volcano’s wall. A white screen mounted within played footage of the hellsna smashing through Yurstille’s market.

Sisip rolled her eyes as she passed Yurst and paused beside me. “I’ll come by and try it on later.”

A scowling Geo marched out of the alcove, the enforcer I didn’t recognize on his heels.

Yurst tucked Devile into his new throne and pushed him closer to the table. “Sisip and her enforcers have been here for weeks with considerable resources. I’m not sure what she’s spending all her time doing.” Oblivious, he ignored the agitated flicker of Sisip’s tawny ears, a carbon copy of his own.

Sisip gripped the edge of the table in front of her. “Let’s reconvene in half a sun?” She spat the words through clenched teeth. “A few of us need a break.”

Mayor Yurst had just overtaken Devile on my shit list.

While D’irk chased after Sisip, the weight of a pair of eyes burned into the back of my neck from the front of the room.

“What else do you have here?” JayJay thumbed a seam on the helmet I’d customized for D’Argon.

“A couple of things I just completed for D’Argon.”

When I turned, crouching to reach the chain mail that had slipped from my hand, Devile’s gaze focused like a laser, raising goose bumps on my skin.

Devile pushed back his chair and strode straight to me. I avoided his hard gaze.

“Inmate 141, who is this lovely female?” Devile spoke to JayJay, but his creepy gaze stayed entirely on me. When he shot a quick glance at JayJay, a greedy expression passed over his face.

Inmate 141. Seriously? My mental shit list now had Devile’s name at the top again, triple-underlined. I’d disliked this Rock Dweller before I met him, but he’d just leveled up in the hate department.

JayJay slid a possessive hand around my waist, pulling me to his side. All but growling, he said, “This is Ginger.”

“Ginger. A name like music on my tongue.” His sour breath puffed against my cheek, leaving a smear of icky heat while he fingered the chain mail in my hands.

As I pressed deeper into the shelter of JayJay’s arms to get away from Devile, the urge to roll my eyes grew overwhelming. But I couldn’t offend this asshole. He held the answer to our oversized, razor-toothed, rancid-breathed worm problem.

In a tenor voice, much higher pitched than any of the Rock Dwellers’ on Tern, Devile asked, “And what species are you?”

“She’s human,” JayJay grunted. “C’mon, Ginger, let’s get something to eat.”

“Not so soon.” Devile tugged on the chain mail in my arms.

JayJay growled, squeezing me closer while Devile’s smirk froze me like a rabbit in between them.

“You’ve gifted this clothing to Inmate 141?”

His cold, dead eyes made me want to run, but I nodded. “I made them for JayJay.”

JayJay’s low voice turned to a growl. “She’s made many clothes for many people. Mine are not special.”

What’s going on?

I patted JayJay’s chest to soothe him. “Only the best for this badass warrior.” JayJay groaned and stepped away from me while his green eyes twitched with something—apprehension? If I could raise this asshole’s opinion of JayJay, I would. Not that I gave a rat’s ass about what Devile thought.

“You compliment Inmate 141?” Devile leered at me.

Why’s JayJay stepping away from me? Now was not the time for another worthiness crisis. We needed to show a united front.

“Sisip’s explained that you’ve been caring for Inmate 141 these past few days?” The chain mail ran over his stubby fingers, and he stepped closer. “To be sure I have this straight…I would like to confirm that you willingly gave him a gift, complimented him, and cared for him?”

What the fuck, dude?

JayJay’s chest rattled, but not with the soft purr I’d grown to love, more like King Kong trapped in a cage. Yurst scurried to stand next to Devile, the tips of his wispy ears bent forward like a horse about to bolt or bite.

“This is remarkable.” Devile sifted the chain mail through his three grubby fingers. “It would make a fine gift.”

“Then you must have it.” Yurst pulled it from my hands and placed it in Devile’s greedy fingers. “For the male that will save Tern, anything.”

“That’s for D’Argon and certainly won’t fit you.” Or your fat head. I removed it from Devile’s reluctant grip. JayJay’s rattle-like growl agitated me. Why isn’t he helping?

Devile’s gluttonous stare ate up JayJay’s oil slick skin. “Ginger, tell me how you feel about me bringing the bloodroot fungus to Tern and ensuring the hellsna’s eradication.”

How am I supposed to answer that?

“Ah…g-good…”

Devile’s voice transformed to a deceptive sort of casual. “Have you initiated the steps to claim Inmate 141 as your mate?” The hunger in his eyes as they raked over JayJay’s skin raised alarm bells in my head.

“That’s kinda personal, isn’t it?” You pompous asshole .

JayJay lurched, the back of the chair nearest him crushed under his fingers. What am I missing? Something isn’t right. My eyes fixed on JayJay, who was holding himself back for some reason, his forest-green eyes pleading. Think Ginger, think.

I turned toward Devile. His guileless expression didn’t fool me. The covetous look screamed of his true nature.

Did he want me to claim JayJay as my mate?

I glanced at JayJay. Sweat shone on his forehead and a pained expression marred his beautiful face. More importantly, did JayJay want me to claim him? A second hand timer ticked a loud countdown in my mind.

Confused by the desperation flooding his deep green eyes, I stepped backward until I stood at his side. Everything hinged on my response.

“Yes.” I stood tall, confident in my decision on the outside. “I’ve initiated the process to claim JayJay as my mate.” Had I just proposed to JayJay? Inside, nerves assaulted my senses, and I feared my knees would buckle. I didn’t even know his last name.

Devile dipped his head. With hands clenched, his devilish gaze snapped to mine once again as if preparing to maneuver a new piece on a chessboard.

JayJay’s rattle turned to a rumbling purr, and a second later, he scooped me into his arms against his chest. The thud of his heart stampeded like a hundred horses under my ear.

“Did you mean that?” His raspy words caressed me, warming my insides.

With one hand, I palmed his smooth, velvety cheek, and nodded. “Yes.”

Devile spun on his heel and stormed back inside the meeting space. “There are important decisions to be made.”