Page 14 of Aliens Snared My Heart (Awakened Womb #3)

14 / Kur’tok

After a thorough washing, Paz and I returned to my throne where he draped himself across my lap like a limp animal. His smile never faded. It seemed that after finally getting what he wanted—my cock inside of him—he was utterly pleased with himself.

Although I couldn’t say I wasn’t happy with the events, too. I never expected to find my filum at all, much less in the form of a fragile little human who gazed, enamored, at me like I was the most important thing in his life.

I stroked Paz’s head fluff as he hummed in contentment. It was nice to touch him and simply be with him. I felt strangely... peaceful. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to, but I preferred it to the constant rage and stress I’d endured for so long.

Paz’s stomach growled.

“Oops,” he said.

A possessive yet caring urge struck me. I stood, carefully placing him on the throne.

“I will fetch you food,” I offered. “Stay here.”

He stretched happily. “’Kay. Don’t be gone long.”

My heart fluttered. “I won’t.”

I rushed to the nearest fruit tree, wanting only fresh ones for my filum. Arr’tow and Haz’rull were already there. They paused as I approached, searching my face warily as if unsure of my mood.

I felt a stab of guilt. They looked nervous. Had they always stared at me that way? Was I too focused on myself to notice their unease?

I cleared the lump in my throat. “Greetings.”

Haz’rull gave me a stiff but polite nod. “Greetings, Kur’tok.”

Gesturing to the tree with my tentacle, I said, “I’m fetching food for my filum.” Realizing what I’d let slip, I quickly added, “I mean, for Paz.”

But I couldn’t unsay what I’d said. To my surprise, both their eyes lit up.

“Your filum?” Arr’tow cried excitedly.

Haz’rull seemed less shocked. They already recognized what kind of relationship we had. “It’s about time you admit it,” they said, tossing me the closest fruit.

I caught it with my tentacle. “Thanks.”

My tongue felt unaccustomed to the word, but I was getting used to it.

What I wasn’t used to yet was the fact that I had a filum. Why me, of all people? Why hadn’t it happened to Arr’tow or Haz’rull instead?

Suddenly feeling sullen, I stared at the ground, but Haz’rull caught my gaze.

“What’s wrong, Kur’tok?” they asked. “You should be happy, but you look subdued.”

The emotions simmering in my chest exploded to a boil, threatening to overflow. I clenched my fists at my sides.

“I... I don’t deserve this,” I muttered so quietly it was barely audible.

The other Maeleons exchanged a rapid glance. Their silence was intense. It was the first time I’d acknowledged any fault in front of them.

Arr’tow swallowed, long throat bobbing. “Does Paz know yet?”

A tense pause followed their question.

“No.” A chill ran down my spine. “If he knew, then...”

I didn’t even want to say it out loud. I couldn’t imagine a life without Paz—my filum.

It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t the past go away? Why did it have to crawl into the present and torture me?

I wanted to run away. I wanted to forget. But I couldn’t—not again. I’d never leave Paz, and I refused to run away from my problems anymore.

“Why haven’t you two abandoned me yet?” I asked, facing my two former friends.

Arr’tow’s feelers flashed a sad blue, the opposite of their pink scales. Their reply was soft and quiet. “We know you didn’t mean it, Kur’tok.”

Haz’rull solidly met my gaze, their eyes flashing. “And we know there’s more to you than what you’ve become.”

Both of their comments churned inside me like a frothy river. After everything I’d put them through, the two Maeleons clung to me like stubborn burrs. Did I even deserve their undying friendship? I wasn’t sure.

“You selflessly saved Paz from that krokutta,” Haz’rull reminded me. “You didn’t worry about getting hurt. You only cared about him.”

My hand grazed absentmindedly over the healing wounds. I hissed as they stung. But if Paz hadn’t tended to them, they’d be much worse.

Despite their comforting words, my stomach still clenched with hot anger, all of it directed at myself. It poured over and over, cycling through me like a waterfall. Saving Paz couldn’t make up for all the horrible things I’d done...

“Show him,” Haz’rull said abruptly.

I stopped breathing for a few seconds. I couldn’t.

Could I?

“Show me what?” Paz asked.

I nearly jolted out of my skin as Paz strolled up beside me. He casually grabbed the fruit from my tentacle and took a bite.

My heart pounded. How much had he overheard?

And how long would I keep hiding things from him?

I dragged my gaze onto Paz’s adorable face. His warm brown eyes were like little beacons of sunshine. He was the sun breaking through my tumultuous storm.

I exhaled low and slow through my nostrils. I couldn’t keep lying to Paz anymore. He had to know the truth.

“I need to show you something,” I muttered.

Paz stopped mid-bite. He furrowed his brows. “Okay. Why do you sound really serious all of a sudden?”

“Because this is serious.”

Paz blinked, then glanced at Haz’rull and Arr’tow. But they had nothing to offer him.

This wasn’t their battle. It was mine.

“Come,” I said solemnly. “If we leave now, we can be there and back by dark.”

Paz sounded unsure. “Okay.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay, Kur’tok?”

I wasn’t sure anymore. Because if Paz knew the truth and he no longer wished to be my filum, then I would very much not be okay.

“I will be,” I promised, although I couldn’t be certain.

The journey was rough on my healing body, but I’d been through worse. With Paz clinging to my back, I ran hard and fast across the wilds. Every step jolted my memories, stirring them up like a disturbed riverbed. I tried to ignore it, but the closer we got, the more difficult it became.

Paz felt tense as he clung to me. Was he reacting to my own tension? I hated worrying him, but I couldn’t pretend that it was all okay. If he knew what happened in the past, he might leave me. If he did, I doubted I’d ever be okay again.

My stomach felt sick by the time we approached the hill overlooking the location of the incident. I slowed to a halt and allowed Paz to dismount onto the grass.

“Phew,” he said, brushing himself off. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

He flashed a grin, trying to lift my mood, but I couldn’t return it. I was too anxious. When I didn’t smile, Paz rubbed my shoulder.

“Kur’tok, what’s bothering you? Please tell me. You’ll feel better if you do.”

I grimaced. “Never made me feel better before. It’s only made things worse.”

“What are you talking about?” Paz asked, sounding frustrated.

“ That .”

I pointed aggressively over the edge of the hill.

Paz frowned, then followed my lead. He peered over the ledge. When he saw what was below, he gasped.

The charred remains of what was once my home stood stark and gray compared to the surrounding greenery. Every den had crumbled to ash. All the communal gardens, every outdoor space, burnt to a crisp. Everything was gone.

Memories of the acrid scent flooded to my nose. I clenched my eyes and shook my head, but it didn’t vanish. It was so strong, I could still taste the burnt air on my tongue.

My feelers trembled. They flashed violent and terrified shades of red.

I didn’t want to be here. I never wanted to return. But Paz had to know.

“What... what happened here?” he asked, staring in horror at the ruined village.

“Me,” I said in a low rasp.

Paz turned slowly to face me. His eyes brimmed with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I wanted to wrench my gaze away from the ruins, yet I forced myself to stay steady. But as anxiety coursed through my blood, my knees trembled. I sat down on the grassy hill beside Paz.

“When I was a youngling, I made a terrible mistake,” I murmured.

Paz put his hand on my arm. Even now, he offered me comfort.

I shook my head bitterly. “Don’t try to reassure me. I don’t deserve it.”

Paz didn’t remove his hand. “Just keep talking,” he urged gently.

The way he spoke was disarming. One of his many unexplainable powers. After a few seconds, I relaxed under his touch—as much as I could relax at the moment.

“Good. Now take a deep breath,” Paz coached.

I shut my eyes and my mouth, and I listened to him. Against all odds, I felt slightly better. When a couple beats passed, I found the strength to continue.

I croaked out, “A long time ago, I burned down my village.”

Paz reeled like he’d been buffeted by a gust of wind. “Slow down, Kur’tok. Let’s unpack this.”

“What is there to unpack?” I snapped. “I did it! That’s it!”

Paz was undeterred. The relentless little flesh-bag searched my gaze imploringly, his soft palm still pressed to my arm.

“Why did you do it?” he asked. I didn’t know how he managed it, but there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his voice.

“Who cares?” I muttered.

“I do.” Paz’s eyes flashed with determination. “People don’t do things for no reason. Were you hurting, Kur’tok?”

Something twisted in my chest.

“No,” I said quietly. “There was... somebody.”

“A Maeleon?” Paz asked, surprised.

“No.” Old memories stirred like thick sludge in my mind. “He was from elsewhere. There were two of them—Unit 44 and Assistant 23—but Unit 44 had the bigger personality. He was like... my mentor.”

Paz listened intently, but he furrowed his brow. “Unit 44? That’s a strange name. What species was he? What planet was he from?”

“I don’t know,” I grumbled. Frustration welled inside me that I couldn’t answer Paz’s questions.

“What did they look like?” Paz pressed.

I gnashed my teeth as I recalled the two beings. Unit 44 stuck out in my mind like a brand—burnt into my brain, unwilling to be forgotten.

“He was large. Bipedal, like us. Not as tall as I am now, but bigger than you, wider and stronger. His flesh was a strange texture—soft, but not like yours. A bit too smooth to the touch. It felt unnatural.”

Paz mulled this over. “What about his face?”

“It was a dark screen.”

“What?” Paz asked. “Was he... a machine?”

I sighed in frustration. “I told you, I don’t know. I would tell you everything if I did.”

Paz nodded sympathetically, but his face remained edged with confusion. “That’s okay. Sorry, Kur’tok. I know this must be rough.”

Recalling his image, I said, “They looked similar, but Unit 44 had a birthmark on his chest like this.”

I dragged my claw into a sandy patch of soil and drew the mark. Even after all these years, I never forgot it. It was permanently imprinted on my mind.

Paz stared at the symbol thoughtfully for a few seconds. “I recognize this symbol,” he said in a low voice.

I whipped towards him. “You know it?”

It took a moment for Paz to respond. When he spoke, it was mechanical and emotionless. “It looks like the intergalactic space-faring symbol for mental health and psychological services. I saw it during my diplomatic training.”

Something surged within me. I grabbed Paz’s shoulders. “Yes!” I cried. “He said he was a doctor of the mind.”

Paz was pensive. He looked like he wanted to say something, but held it back.

“So, regardless of his species, Unit 44 was a psychologist,” he said instead. “Were you two close?”

The old pain in my chest flared. “Yes. When he and Assistant 23 arrived at our village, I was ecstatic. Even as a youngling, I had difficulty making friends, but Unit 44 was so eager and kind. He wanted to know everything about Maeleons, and in return, he taught me many things.”

I expected Paz to smile at my story. Instead, there was a wary neutrality on his face that I didn’t understand. But he knew where my tale ended up—in ruins—so why should he smile? I didn’t press him.

“He was researching Maeleon culture,” Paz suggested. “Makes sense. Nobody in my crew knew of this planet or your people, and it never came up once in all my years of training. Wherever those two were from, they must not have known anything about Eukaria, either.”

I shrugged. The details were unimportant to me. All I knew was what happened next.

“Unit 44 was very interested in our culture,” I agreed. “He thought it was strange that we Maeleons are fanged, yet don’t act carnivorous. He was the one who taught me to eat meat.” I grinned at the memory. “I was great at hunting. Unit 44 was proud of me.”

Paz tensed.

“But the Maeleons in my village didn’t like that,” I continued. “They started looking at me strangely. Some tried to change my mind. Especially Haz’rull and Arr’tow. But I didn’t care about what they thought.” My tail wrapped around my legs. “As long as I had Unit 44, I was happy.”

Paz nodded slowly, waiting for me to continue. He still wore that strange, almost pained expression.

“One day, Unit 44 asked what our village taboos were,” I said. “It was his most important research. He said he’d be deeply grateful if I helped him. I told him everything. I’ll never forget his excitement when he heard about the arson taboo. He taught me it was rare in most cultures, and he’d only ever heard of it being morally wrong on Eukaria.”

Paz’s face paled. “Kur’tok, that’s just not true.”

“What?” I asked, almost like he hadn’t spoken.

He gripped my arm tighter. “Arson is wrong in most cultures. In fact, I’d say in every culture.”

I stared at him, unseeing. His words felt misaligned with my world.

“That’s not what Unit 44 said,” I stated.

“He lied to you.”

I resisted the urge to wrench my arm out of his grip. “He did not!” I roared.

Paz stared at me unflinchingly. His eyes were harder than I’d ever seen them, twin shards piercing my soul.

My heart pounded sickeningly in my chest.

“He did not lie,” I growled.

“He lied straight to your face,” Paz insisted. Before I could argue, he cut me off. “What did he tell you to do?”

My pulse felt thick, my blood cold. The world suddenly shifted on its axis. I stared at the grass beneath my feet, still green and untouched.

“I would be an amazing asset to his research,” I repeated, never forgetting his words, “if I performed an experiment. He wanted to test his theory: communal social response to taboo committed by an immature specimen.”

Paz’s voice came out in a strained whisper. “Kur’tok...”

“I did the worst Maeleon taboo. I set it all ablaze.” The words felt cold and empty. “Just for him.”

Paz suddenly blurted out, “He used you!”

Growling, I gnashed my teeth. “You sound just like them. ”

“Who?”

“The Maeleons of my village,” I spat. “They blamed Unit 44. They thought it was all his fault! They killed him because of me!”

Paz’s eyes rounded. They swam with emotion: sympathy, anger, and despite everything, still love.

“They sacrificed him to the Soul of Eukaria?” Paz asked quietly.

I felt winded. I didn’t expect to hear those words come from his mouth. They felt too close to home.

“How do you know about that?” I demanded.

A wry smile touched his lips. “Because when our ship crashed on Eukaria, it scorched the Sweetfields. We committed the same crime, and we almost met the same fate. But Zat’tor saved us because what happened was an accident. We didn’t mean any harm.” His smile fell. “But Unit 44 did.”

I didn’t realize I was trembling until Paz’s palm curled tighter on my arm. I forced myself to still, but it wouldn’t stop.

“He did not,” I said under my breath, but it sounded frail. “It was my fault he died.”

Paz’s mouth was a thin line. “It was his own fault. He knew exactly what would happen, because you told him. What he didn’t realize is that Maeleons aren’t stupid. They recognized that he manipulated you.”

“I still did it,” I muttered bitterly. “If I didn’t, he’d still be alive.”

My head swam. I felt like I was being churned in choppy waters, unable to reach land or take a solid breath.

Paz put his arm around me—he was so small, it only reached half of my back. “Don’t blame yourself. He used you for his own twisted reasons. Think of it this way, Kur’tok: if Unit 44 never showed up, would you have burned anything down?”

I paused. “No.”

“There you go. Did anyone else get hurt?”

“No villagers. They fled quickly when they smelled the smoke.” I stared at the grass. “The plants were burnt.”

Paz nodded solemnly. If he knew about the Soul of Eukaria, he must know how much plant life meant to Maeleons. Most of them, anyway.

“Plants grow back,” Paz said.

I leaned against him, feeling heavy with guilt. “I only meant to burn the corner of my den. Just enough for him to see. I didn’t mean for the flames to get so out of hand...”

“That’s what fire does,” Paz said mildly, as if comforting a child.

I felt horrible. I wished the ground would swallow me up.

“I never forgave the Maeleons for what they did to Unit 44,” I muttered. “After the village was destroyed, we all dispersed to other ones nearby. They welcomed us with open arms. Me, Haz’rull and Arr’tow were accepted into the Sweetfields village you know. But their kindness only infuriated me. I never stopped being angry. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Maeleons killed my best friend. My mentor.”

Paz grimaced, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I kept eating meat. I kept stewing in my rage,” I growled.

“You kept pushing people away,” Paz said.

I couldn’t deny it. He’d seen right through me, the way he always did.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Hmph.” My claw dragged in the sandy earth, drawing lazy scribbles. “I guess it worked, because they finally kicked me out. Sent me on a quest of self-reflection. Asked me not to return until I’d changed my antisocial behavior.”

Realization dawned on Paz’s face. He glanced down at my doodles. “I get it now. That was why Tau’run acted weird when I asked about your ‘quest.’”

I narrowed my eyes. “Tau’run? That yellow fruit-eater? Why were you speaking? Are they sexually interested in you?”

Paz laughed airily. “No, you big goof. And I don’t like them that way. I only love you . Romantically, sexually, all that stuff.”

I relaxed with a grunt. “Good.”

A few quiet moments passed. I felt empty, but not in a bad way—like I’d finally spat out a festering poison stuck in my chest.

“I’m sorry, Kur’tok,” Paz said.

I turned to him with a confused frown. “What for?”

“Everything you went through.” He stroked my back with his small palm. The warm circles felt soothing. “I know it’s hard to think of it differently, but you were used.”

The wound was still too fresh. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

“Do you... want to return to the village we’re from?” Paz asked.

Again, I didn’t know. I stared at the charred remains of my old village, a permanent scorched mark on the wilderness.

“They won’t take me back,” I muttered.

“You don’t know that,” Paz insisted. “The Kur’tok who berated his friends and ordered me around on a leash? Maybe not that version of you. But the one I’m talking to right now is different.”

I grimaced. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t feel like I could believe him.

Paz pointed to the village’s remains. “Look, Kur’tok. I know it seems bad. But it’s not ruined forever. Do you see the plants poking out of the ashes?”

Until now, I’d avoided looking too closely at the village, even from a distance. It was all a charred blur, darkening my psyche. But Paz forced me to look closer. As I sharpened my gaze and focused, I sucked in a breath. I did see new plant life dotted across the ruins. I couldn’t believe my eyes. If Paz hadn’t mentioned them, I never would’ve noticed.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned on Eukaria, it’s that a new beginning is always possible, if you want one,” Paz said, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Even for you.”

My heart vibrated in my ribs. Overwhelmed with affection, I grabbed Paz with my tentacles and yanked him into my lap so I could crush him in a hug. His laugh was muffled against my chest.

“Love you, too,” he said through a mouthful of my pectorals.

A sudden flicker of motion moved in my peripheral vision. I lifted my head, narrowing my eyes at the village. Then I saw it—a figure moving around in the ruins.

A very familiar figure.

“Paz,” I whispered.

Hearing my serious voice, he stopped laughing. He quietly turned around to follow my gaze, then sucked in a breath when he saw it, too.

Even after all these years, I’d recognize that strange flesh shape anywhere.

Creeping around in the ruins of my old village was Assistant 23.