Page 83 of Exiles on Earth

“Okay.” She nods, her voice quieter now. Following at my heels, she clings to her drink as if it’s her only stable anchor.

It must be uncomfortable for her on this world. “I’m here. Nothing will hurt you.”

“Uh… yeah, I know.” She bites her lip. “Ilia, you don’t have to?—”

She draws to a halt when I push through the thicket to the bioluminescent stream. Bright blues and greens glow in slow-flowing water like the streaks of Gara’s scales. I kneel by the bank, dipping the fruit into the stream to clean it. She settles next to me, her warmth at my side a steady sun.

As I dip the fruit in water, I consider asking if she watched me in the showers. She hasn’t volunteered any information. Did she watch me, or was there another guest of the All-Mother who spied on me?

She doesn’t give anything away on her face, cupping her fingers around the warm mug, but she says, “Are you okay? Your scales kind of… dimmed. Unless it’s just the light.”

“I’m perfectly content.” I peel her anyanas, cracking the remains of the stem and pulling the thick skin off. “Here, El-len. Please try this.”

She brings the long, curved fruit to her mouth, heat stoking through me. It’s much thinner than my cocks, but seeing the shape press against her mouth makes a groan escape my throat.

She frowns. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Nodding because I cannot trust myself to speak, I screw my hands into fists to stop from rushing forward and capturing her lips with my own. This is exquisite torture, being made to watch as her mouth seals around the anyanas in a perfect, pert circle shape, before she bites off the fruit and chews.

And then she closes her eyes and moans, and my cocks lunge against my shorts. “This is delicious!”

“Yes.” I lick my dry lips.

“Not quite an egg breakfast, though.”

“I will get you an egg.” I’ll get her ten thousand eggs. “While you eat, let me massage your feet.”

Before she answers, I pull her foot into my lap, massaging it with strong strokes.

Her mouth opens slightly as she stares at me ministering to her. “Um, thanks, but you don’t have to?—”

I trace my thumb along her arch, sending shivers racing up her leg.

“Okay, actually, yeah, you’re good at this.” But she pulls her foot free. “Ilia, you’re freaking me out a little.”

Shock turns me cold. “How so?”

“You don’t have to rush around for me. I can sort myself out.”

“I know you can.” I’ve done something wrong, crossed a line I didn’t know was there. Cold fear trickles across my scales, along with the urge to prostrate myself on the floor.

But I know El-len would hate that.

Her smile turns sad. “You’ll make some clever, beautiful woman very happy, but don’t let her walk all over you.”

Not just any clever, beautiful woman. I want her. What do I have to do to get her to claim me?

I need to take my own advice to discover what makes her smile and do it. “Let’s find Floss.”

TWENTY-FIVE

ILIA

The hoverbike roarsas I guide it down to the edge of the district, its thrusters cutting off with a sharp hiss when we touch ground. El-len clings to my back, and her tight grip threatens to distract me as I lean into it.

The research facilities rise like gleaming monoliths, each crafted from offworld stones that shimmer under the night lights—opaline streaks from Calla Prime, obsidian from Pyrris, and translucent quartz from the moons of Letharion, all fused seamlessly into towering works of art. Even at this late hour, the air hums with quiet purpose, faint figures moving behind glowing windows, the brilliance of the buildings casting fractured rainbows across the polished ground.

I glance over my shoulder at El-len, her expression a mix of curiosity and unease. “This district houses the best scientific research facilities for offworld plants and animals,” I say.