Page 21

21

Olivia

I wake up to the most glorious pressure and then I come to myself enough to realize it’s because I’m lying on top of Kroaicho. I brace for a reaction, but there is no answering anger.

Oddly enough, the pressure loosens something within my chest, and although he’s restricting my movement, I feel like I can breathe better.

It takes me back to the hugs my mum once gave me and that feeling of safety. I don’t understand what the difference is between this, and being touched in other ways, but I don’t pull away from it. There’s not that visceral reaction that has hounded me from my first memories.

It’s… nice.

The arousal surges again, of course, but I ignore it. That’s not what this is about. Instead, I focus on the pressure of his arms on my back. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps under me. The oddly slow pace of his beating heart.

It’s easily a third of the speed of my own and at first that worries me, but then I start counting it, the sound lulling me into peaceful drifting.

I’m not sure how much time passes before he starts shifting under me. I shift my head so I can look up at his oddly curved neck. He stiffens and straightens his head, bright pink eyes popping open in alarm, limbs squeezing me just a little too tight.

He blinks once, twice, then relaxes again.

“How are you feeling?” I ask him.

“Mostly healed,” he replies, and my eyebrows shoot up.

“Truly? Those wounds were deep last night. I really should have figured out a way to dress them, but it was just too much and I—”

“No need,” he says, interrupting me. “All they needed was for me to sleep.”

I snort. “You are so strange.”

His skin lights up in his outraged purple, but it’s muted so I know he isn’t particularly offended. “You are the strangest creature here, Olivia. Probably on the whole planet.”

I clack my teeth together, mimicking what he does with his tusks when I am being particularly vexing and his skin lights up to his amused white.

“I didn’t expect you to return,” he tells me, skin shifting to blue.

I take a moment to appreciate just how obvious emotions are with him, then respond. “I didn’t either,” I admit.

I pull in a deep breath, then speak again. “Are you really going to keep me here?

For the first time, I see something other than irritation or frustration flare on his skin. Some odd mix of pink and purple I’ve never seen before.

"No," he breathes out, closing his glowing eyes.

I feel a pang of something in my chest—something unfamiliar. It's not anger, not irritation. It's softer and gentler, and I don't know what to do with it.

"Why do you want to find other humans so badly?" he asks, voice quiet and lacking his usual irritation.

"I just… I don't want to be alone," I say in a whisper, surprising myself. " I never thought I would, but I miss being part of something.”

His skin lights up blue again. "But you're not alone. I'm here."

"I know, Kroaicho,” I tell him. “But it's not the same. You don't understand."

“I don't,” he admits. “I don't understand why you can't just be content with the hoard.

Then he looks at me with intensity. “I am starting to understand the… value of connection. I feel that value with you, and it helps me imagine how it might mean you need more than just the embrace of treasure and the whisperings of their stories. But… would you just stay?”

I look over at the scattered pile, once again annoyed that it always comes back to a pile of junk with him. “I just… can’t,” I reply, my voice rough. “I need more.”

It’s always things that are more important and I’m so sick of it.

“A human?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, I—”

I break off with a yelp as he shifts from under me, mind reeling at the odd movements of a multi-segmented body with six limbs.

Next thing I know, he’s placing me on my feet and stalking out of the cave. It seems like the end of almost every conversation we have and this time I don’t have it in me to yell after him.

Instead, I huff out a breath and look around for the source of the terrible stench. It’s the damn carcass, I realize and steel myself to haul it to the stream and toss it in.

“Fuck,” I say, summing up the whole situation, pressing my fingers into my aching eyes.

***

I’ve finally cleared out all of the blood and gore and I’m trying not to gag as I toss the long green shorn hair into the water that I used as a mop when I hear screeching.

I freeze.

Human screeching… Farsi human screeching. It’s Rin. I recognize her powerful voice, as if she’s practiced yelling at people for years or something.

I groan, thinking back to the conversation with Kroaicho and how I didn’t pay attention when he didn’t say “humans,” but instead said “a human.”

She is going to kill me and I completely deserve it. Dammit. She’ll turn that practiced yell on me and I’ll fucking wilt.

I swallow hard, mind flitting over all of the failed social interactions I’ve had in my life. Then to the small bit of elation I felt when she called me her friend.

Ninety-five percent hates you , I think, with a grimace on my face.

By the time the yelling is close enough to let me know they are almost in this part of the cave, I have my mask firmly in place. Hopefully she won’t notice that my smile is wobbly.

I turn, body stiff, as Kroaicho walks in. His skin is the darkest purple I have ever seen on him, his pink eyes partially closed, the spikes on his head flinching to the side each time Rin’s voice reaches a particularly loud peak.

“He is going to cut you into so many tiny little—” Rin suddenly breaks off when she catches sight of me, mouth opening in shock.

“Olivia!” she cries out, voice completely different now. I flinch again when I hear the happiness there. It won’t last long.

It truly doesn’t, but it’s not on my account, but instead because Kroaicho takes a few more quick strides and then dumps her unceremoniously on top of a pile of trinkets.

She growls out her rage, then switches to a barking language I’ve never heard before. “I am going to enjoy it when he finds you.”

Kroaicho doesn’t respond, but simply whirls around, two of his limbs stumbling over the others in his haste, and heads back the way he came.

“Zhann knew best,” he mutters. “No pets. Terrible, terrible pets.”

Rin scrambles up, running toward me. “Olivia! I thought we’d never find you, thank Allah . Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? That… that—”

I cut her off before she can get rolling again. “I’m not hurt.”

“Good,” she says briskly, her new green, glowing markings thrumming under her skin. The braids are new, too. “Let’s go.”

She marches over and grabs on to my arm and I hold myself rigid so I don’t lash out.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. It’s just… just that there’s no use. I’ve tried and all I ever did was almost die trying to escape,” I say.

It’s a deflection, but it’s also the truth.

Her shoulders slump. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. There are so many deadly things in these caves. Venom bugs, things that look like cats with dripping green slime, and this really big…” I shudder. “...something that almost killed Kroaicho it was so strong.”

“Kroaicho. Right. So the terrible kidnapper has a name,” she says, her lip lifted in… disgust?

It’s so much harder to tell with humans.

I shake my head at the thought. This is exactly what I wanted. Humans to be with. And here I am being incredibly ungrateful.

I let out a long breath and let my mask drop. It’s no use. “I’m the reason you’re here, Rin.”

“Of course you are,” she replies. “We’ve been looking for you.”

I blink. “You have?”

“Yes! Why do you sound surprised?” she shoots back.

I shrug. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Kira and Ree came really close to grabbing Kroaicho and beating the information out of him, but he kept getting away.”

My jaw drops. He didn’t tell me something that important? “He saw them?”

“I assume so, since he ran off like a coward and caved in the tunnels behind him,” she replies.

She’s cursing in Farsi about his ancestry as my mind whirls.

I shouldn’t have expected anything else. I close my eyes and push it out of my mind, heart aching.

“Tell me what’s been happening,” I grit out.

***

It’s been at least a day. Rin ran out of stories to tell and aside from periodically trying to leave the way Kroaicho brought her in and being blocked by him, she hasn’t done much beyond pace and mutter in Farsi.

It’s making me want to shut down, but I keep pushing it off, especially since she won’t seem to listen to my attempts to implicate myself in her kidnapping. My guilt is like a steady wound and as long as she denies it, the wound remains.

Finally, she plops down beside me and pulls a braid over one ear. My eyes widen when I recognize the shape.

I pull my hair back and turn so she can see. “Do my ears look like yours?”

She snorts out a breath. “Well, at least you haven’t had sex with him.”

“What?” I say a little too loudly. How could she know about these strange urges? And what does that have to do with anything?

“You’re going to change until you have sex. Ree explained it to me. It looks like you got some of Kuret’s traits by coming in contact with me. Those are Qendi ears. Any other changes?”

I will my sleeves to pull back and she grimaces. “Those are from some sort of elf-like alien. They are not friendly.”

She shows me similar silver glittering on her skin, which is really pretty mixed in with the green branching marks. I point at one. “What about those?”

“Also from Kuret. I uh, slept with him.” She looks down at her hands.

Is she feeling shy about it? Or ashamed? Ugh… I can’t tell and my heart starts beating faster as I think of what to say that won’t give it away or make her angry.

Luckily, she starts talking again.

“I’m not making rational decisions anymore, Olivia. I used to be so careful and thoughtful… My parents would be so disappointed in me and how I’ve thrown away all the things they ever taught me.”

Oh no , I think, panicking. She needs comfort and I’m pretty sure even Kroaicho would be a better choice for this moment.

I try for a neutral topic instead. “Is your family still…”

I trail off, realizing I don’t know how to end that sentence.

“Alive? Not my parents. And the rest of them clearly aren’t family. They sold me. They’re why I’m here.”

I might not understand what I see on her face, but her raw voice tells me how upset she is about that. Of course she’s upset about it. I scramble to think of a response, annoyed with my useless brain.

“We are walking statistics,” I blurt out, then cringe.

“Come again?” she says, voice confused now instead of gutted, at least.

It wasn’t what I was aiming for, but I lean more into it. “It was my family, too. Statistically speaking, they are the ones most likely to sell people into trafficking.”

She grunts. “Right.” She shakes her head, white braids clinking. “It doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is… I’m going crazy here.”

“Well, I think that is pretty normal when—”

She cuts me off. “No. You don’t understand. I can’t make up my mind about anything. I’m going in circles. I followed the first alien that seemed like they were protecting me around like a puppy and they ended up being a terrible, terrible person. Then Kuret, the person who saved me from them treats me really well and is pretty much the most understanding person I have ever met… I really mean that, too. I never thought a man would actually listen, but he does. Without judgement and with this incredibly flexible personality that just… sticks with me, no matter how much I vacillate. You know?”

I nod. I don’t know, but I also would rather she keep talking while I try to figure out how to respond.

“I went from being a virgin, to deciding to jump him in all of about two seconds, Liv. As in hating his guts to giving away something that should have been precious.”

She pauses, but luckily I’ve thought of a response by now. “Do you regret it?”

“What? The sex?” she asks.

I nod and she purses her lips and thinks for a moment.

“No. No I don’t. He’s patient, and kind, and he takes all of this crazy that is going on in my head right now in stride. He’s steady. All the time… and it’s exactly what I need right now. What I need for the rest of my life. But… I just don’t feel like myself anymore.”

“In what way?” I ask her, stalling.

“I can't make up my mind, Olivia. I hate violence, but next thing I know I’m killing a bunch of aliens. Then I give the person who saved me from a… terrible person a hard time about violence. Next thing I know I'm giving him my virginity. And then still giving him a hard time about the same things, over and over. I'm losing my mind."

I finally stop panicking when I realize that this is just simple psychology. Maybe I can help her after all."Are you expecting to be rational after waking up in another part of the galaxy?" I ask."More rational than I have been," she mutters.I snort. "If life has taught me anything, it's that people don't make sense. Why expect your actions to make sense after your world literally disappears when we, humans I mean, didn't make sense before we came here?"She turns fully to me, and I struggle to maintain eye contact, wanting to let her know that I care.

“What?" she asks, brows low.I look away, no longer able to handle my brain screaming at me. "You made choices,” I clarify. “Some of them bad. Some of them good. Some didn't align with what you usually would do. Or the beliefs you thought you had. Right?""Right,” she says, voice more sure now.

It gives me confidence to keep pushing my point. "Stop trying to explain the why and instead ask if it led you where you wanted.""I'm a prisoner in a cave, Liv,” she says, her voice dry.

It draws a laugh from me. "I can't help you there. I mean with this alien you jumped. Do you regret it? You said you didn’t, but then you circled back to guilt. You need to decide about the regret so you can let go of the guilt… or drown in it. Your choice, but do you regret it?”

"No. I don't,” she reiterates.

“Then stop thinking about what was rational for you on Earth and start thinking about what is rational for you right now,” I conclude.

She clucks her tongue, then sucks her teeth as I wonder if she’s going to finally get mad at me now. I talked for a really long time. Surely I said something wrong in all of that. I just know it…

It’s so much easier with Kroaicho. I just say whatever I want, since everything is going to sound strange to him anyway. And he lights up with clear emotional responses. Mostly purple or blue… but, still.

I’m terrible with humans.

Stupid, stupid, stupid , I chant to myself.

“How did you get so smart, Liv?” she says and my chanting stops instantly.

Wait. I said something right?

She huffs out a breath. “I see your point, but… well, that elf-like alien… he tried to um, well you know.”

I blink, then catch up to what she means and anger surges. “Did Kuret kill him?”

“Yes,” she says, voice firm. “It was the most violent thing I have ever seen in my life. It was like he… enjoyed it.”

I gulp, then decide to admit to some of my own guilt. “I killed when they held me in the cells. I… I really liked the way it felt too.”

My eyes are locked to my hands, afraid of what she will say, shoulders tense.

She puts a hand on mine and luckily I see her movement in time to keep myself from flinching.

“It’s okay, Liv,” she tells me in a gentle voice. “I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. I mean, I don’t think I feel quite the same thing Kuret does, but I can’t deny that there is satisfaction when I see one of the hunters die.”

My anger surges even higher, and not just because she’s touching me. What she’s told me about this being a hunting ground makes my blood boil.

“Anyway,” she says with a huff. “Sorry to lay all of this on you, but you are so easy to talk to.”

I am? Usually people just tell me how stiff I am and I avoid them. I’m not sure that she’s being objective about me…

“I can let go of that guilt. What still bothers me,” she continues, “is that it was no time at all between someone trying to force me that I slept with Kuret. It doesn’t feel right.”

"Come on, Rin,” I challenge. “You're acting like there is only one way someone can respond to trauma. That's just what society says, not what actually happens."

"But jumping straight into bed with someone right after…" She shudders, seeming lost for words for a moment before continuing without naming it. "…that?"

"Why not?” I ask. “Are you supposed to be afraid of it your whole life? Is that the 'proper' response?"

"Some people are! You shouldn't mock them,” she chides.

"I'm not, Rin. I would never mock someone's fear. All I'm saying is you're going to process it the way you need. Again… we are circling. Do you regret sleeping with Kuret? Choosing him?"

"No. But…"

"Alright, then let’s stop the nonsense, Rin! Maybe you wouldn't have done it so hastily outside of a crash landing on a fucking alien planet and someone almost taking it from you forcefully. But… can't you see how those very things might make it seem even more important for you to get to choose?"

She blinks slowly, absorbing my words, but her body is still tight. A frisson of anxiety goes through me as I wonder if I've gone too far, not sure what her face is trying to tell me, but I ignore my fear.

I take a deep breath and double down. "It's like with grief. Society says you're supposed to show up for the funeral, act in certain ways, speak certain ways. But the person is dead. They don't care; it's just all the other people there expecting something from someone. Except, what about the people who know, deep down, that the funeral will make their grief process worse? What about the people whose grief shows up as being reckless?"

Her face twitches. "I did that," she whispers, "after my bābā died."

"Sure,” I tell her, on a roll now, “and it was what you needed at the time. Or what about people seeking relationships as quickly as possible to fill the void their partner left behind? Be too quick and people judge, wait too long and they nag. We're talking about people's judgement, not about what someone needs or what is 'normal,' because there is no one certain way to process trauma, Rin. It's messy and terrible and we just get through it."

She lets out a long breath. “I see what you mean, Liv. I was reckless when I came here, too. It was a form of grieving, except not just my parents, but… my whole life. But that doesn’t mean I need to punish myself for it, does it?”

“Exactly,” I respond, glad she can see my point.

“You really are the most—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence because there is a splash from the nearby stream and we both freeze.