Page 10 of Aliens Snared My Heart (Awakened Womb #3)

10 / Kur’tok

The human must’ve been weaker than I realized. After releasing his pollen, Paz fell asleep again.

Right in my lap.

I stared down at his prone, delicate body. He was so fragile, yet he trusted me enough to pass out in my grasp.

Either that, or he was deeply stupid.

No, Paz was not stupid. I banished that brief thought from my mind forever. I wouldn’t tolerate anybody insulting my pet—not even me.

As I watched Paz sleep, a wispy feeling swarmed in my chest like vine tendrils. I ignored it, whatever it was.

A purple wash stained the sky overhead. We’d spent a long time fooling around in the waterfall pool. I needed to put Paz to bed properly.

Gingerly wrapping my arms around him, I carried my limp pet back to the den. His soft, rhythmic breaths puffed against my chest. Those fuzzy tendrils knotted between my ribs again. I swallowed hard, attempting to dislodge them, but they didn’t budge. That was annoying. Had an insectoid gone up my nostrils without my noticing?

On the way to the den, I noticed my domain was oddly empty. I’d lost track of my underlings. Then I noticed I didn’t feel a flare of annoyance at the thought of them. Maybe having a new pet distracted me from their incompetence.

It was when I reached the mouth of the den that I saw them. Arr’tow and Haz’rull stood meekly beside the entrance, their eyes gleaming with curiosity. Instinctively, I held Paz closer to my chest.

“What do you want?” I demanded, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t disturb Paz.

“We wanted to see the human,” Arr’tow said.

I lashed my tail. “I’m taking him to sleep. Do not disturb us.”

I strode past them. After a beat, Haz’rull asked, “Is he going to live here forever?”

My shoulders bristled, and my feelers flashed violent red. “Of course he is!”

The pair exchanged furtive glances. That angered me more. What had they discussed behind my back—and about Paz, no less?

“Does the human know that?” Haz’rull ventured.

My feelers jolted like they’d received an electric shock. I turned slowly to face Haz’rull.

“It is not up to the human,” I growled, enunciating each word so it’d get through my underling’s thick skull. “It is my choice. He stays. He is mine. ”

Arr’tow balked at my anger, but Haz’rull stared back at me in defiance. They looked tense, as if about to argue, until Paz roused in my arms with a muffled sound.

“What’s goin’ on?” he mumbled.

Had he heard our conversation?

“Nothing,” I reassured him, still glaring at Haz’rull. “Get back to hunting.”

The pair lingered for a moment, then took off. My muscles relaxed when they disappeared from the den and left the two of us alone.

“You sound annoyed,” Paz pointed out sleepily.

I grunted. “I’m not.”

Paz let out a soft snort. “Liar.”

His comment activated some weak spot within me. I trudged deeper into the den where I could put Paz to sleep peacefully. I placed him on the panthar fur blanket and wrapped him up.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked.

He nodded lazily. “Are you gonna stay with me?”

The tendrils in my ribs tightened. I put a hand on my chest, but it did nothing to dispel that twisty, novel feeling.

I spoke past the nervous lump in my throat and asked, “Do you want that?”

Inside, I was hesitant. I was afraid of his answer—nobody chose to be around me of their own free will.

Paz rubbed his eyes and yawned. “It’d be nice...”

I sucked in a breath. He wanted me to stay.

I had never been wanted before. It was intoxicating, like cool water on a scorching day.

“Then I will stay,” I said gruffly.

A smile brightened Paz’s face. Whenever he made that expression, my insides felt ticklish and strange. I was still wary of his claim not to have powers. I needed to learn more about Paz—about all humans.

I sat down carefully beside Paz. I’d never been so aware of my bulky body, and how it interacted with others. The tiny human forced me to think about such things.

Paz blew out a breezy sigh as he rested his head on my arm. I kept still so I didn’t disturb him.

I cleared my throat. “Your powers. Describe them.”

He snorted in amusement. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t have powers?”

“I don’t believe you,” I stated. “Humans are a gifted species. You’re not telling the truth.”

Paz arched one of the two furry lines on his forehead. “Humans can do a lot of things, but unfortunately, mystical spells are not one of them.”

“Then what is this feeling?” I demanded, slapping a hand to my chest.

Paz glanced at my chest, then back to my face. “What kinda feeling?”

I huffed an irritated breath through my nostrils. “I don’t know. It’s different.”

“Is it bad?”

I paused to think about it. “No,” I grumbled.

Paz watched me closer. “Is it a good feeling?”

I went quiet. It was difficult to put into words. Everything felt too jumbled and raw and strange. But it was not bad. Could it be good instead?

“Maybe,” I admitted.

A mischievous light glinted in Paz’s eyes. “Kur’tok, have you ever liked someone before?”

“No,” I spat. “Everybody is stupid. They annoy me.”

Paz nodded towards the opening of the den. “C’mon, what about Haz’rull and Arr’tow?”

“I already told you they are not my friends,” I snapped.

Not anymore, I thought with a surge of guilt.

The little human didn’t blink. He stared right back at me. “Now I think you’re not telling the truth.”

“What?” I roared.

“I don’t think you’d keep two people around if, deep down, you didn’t like them a teeny, tiny bit.”

I stared at him incredulously. He was wrong.

“They are my underlings,” I ground out. “They live in my domain to do tasks. That is all.”

“They’re not your siblings ?” Paz countered.

His statement jolted me. He said the word with a decent Maeleon accent, the way others referred to their fellow Maeleons. Others who weren’t me.

“How long have you lived in that village by the Sweetfields?” I asked, my tail twitching irritably.

Paz tilted his head. He made a gesture with his fingers. Was he counting?

“Hell, I dunno anymore,” he said eventually. “Maybe a little over half a year?”

Half of a full cycle. No wonder they’d affected him.

“Before the village, where did you come from?” I asked.

Paz tilted his head, like my sudden curiosity intrigued him. “I’m from Earth originally. New Earth, if you want to get technical about it.”

The word was difficult to pronounce. “Earth,” I said, trying out the weird sound on my tongue.

Paz grinned. “That’s it.”

His expression made my chest tingle again.

“Why did you come to Eukaria?” I asked.

Paz snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, boy. I love this story. Okay, so, we weren’t supposed to land on Eukaria, but our captain seriously screwed up and crashed our ship here.”

What was a ship? I wanted to know, but didn’t want to ask.

I grunted. “He sounds like a fool.”

Paz grinned harder. “Oh, he is. But I like him anyway.”

I tried to imagine crashing a “ship,” whatever that meant. The act sounded unpleasant, even dangerous.

“Were you hurt?” I asked.

Paz’s eyes softened as he smiled at me. “No, but thanks for asking. That’s sweet of you.”

My stomach fluttered. I cleared my throat loudly to get rid of the sensation, but it didn’t work.

“You’re my pet. I don’t want you to get hurt,” I growled.

Paz chuckled and rubbed his cheek against my arm like a panthar demanding attention. I treated him the same way I’d treat Kookee if it did the same thing—by petting Paz’s head-fur. He made a small contented noise. Then he suddenly sat up. “Wait, I just realized something. Do you already know what a ship is?”

My mouth soured into a frown. “No.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

My nostrils flared. Asking questions meant a lack of knowledge. Lack of knowledge was a weakness. And weakness was not to be tolerated.

Paz searched my face. When I didn’t reply, he said, “You think asking questions is for weaklings, don’t you?”

My gaze snapped to his. How did he know that? Yet another reason to doubt his power-related claims...

Paz laughed. “Oh, don’t give me that incredulous look. And before you ask again, no, I’m not magical.” He put his small, soft hand on my arm muscle. “You’re not that hard to read, Kur’tok.”

The warmth of his hand dispelled my annoyance.

“Yes, I am. Nobody understands me,” I grumbled. “You are special, Paz.”

Paz’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed a deeper color. It reminded me of the way Maeleon feelers flashed with emotion. Perhaps humans weren’t so starkly different than Maeleons after all.

Out of nowhere, I recalled what Paz mentioned about his human friends—that they’d become impregnated by Maeleons.

It was ridiculous. And stupid. And flat-out impossible.

But this fragile, intelligent creature came from another planet. He hadn’t lied about that. And if that was possible, what else could be?

“Tell the truth about your human friends,” I warned. “Did they truly get pregnant by Maeleons?”

An unreadable emotion flashed across Paz’s face. After a beat, he nodded slowly. “Yeah, they did.”

My heart skipped like fluttering insectoid wings. Paz felt deeply close, even closer than our touching skin, almost as if he’d burrowed into me. A burning question hung at the back of my throat, creeping forward to my hesitant tongue.

Could he possibly...

No, I couldn’t ask him that. It was idiotic to even entertain the thought.

Paz the human was my captive. A pet against his will. Even if he promised to stay here, it couldn’t last. He’d want to leave eventually. He would return to his human companions and the stupid village, leaving me behind.

In the end, there was no way he could love a brutish Maeleon like me.

I wrangled myself away from Paz and stood with a grunt. “You should rest,” I stated. “It’s been a long day for a weak human like you.”

Paz blinked. I ignored the disappointment that washed over his face. “Oh. Yeah, sure. I am pretty tired.” He bit his lip. “But you said you’d stay with me. Are you leaving?”

My heart fought tooth and claw with my brain. More than anything, I wanted to remain here with Paz—but it wasn’t the right choice. I couldn’t imagine any way for it to end well.

“I must hunt,” I said, turning away so I couldn’t see his expression. “My underlings haven’t returned yet. I’m hungry.”

A dense silence hung in the air. Then Paz muttered, “It’s not nice to lie, Kur’tok.”

His words pierced me deeper than any thorn. I whirled around, baring my fangs, and spat, “I can say whatever I want! This is my domain, and you’re my pet!”

Instantly, regret stabbed my chest. The shift in Paz’s expression hurt more than if I’d bitten my own arm off.

Hot shame boiled in my veins. I couldn’t stand to face what I’d done. Dropping to a crouch, I rushed out of the den—away from Paz’s heartache.