Page 56 of Galaxy Gladiators Romance Box Set #11-19

Chapter Eight

R aine

It’s been a crazy, horrible, wonderful three weeks since I made the deal with Maximus. We found a cure, or at least a workaround. But that’s on hold until after today’s fight.

As a child, I never agreed with my mom when she used to say I was the stubbornest person she’d ever met. After fighting my nature for most of my life, I later adopted it as a badge of honor. After all, you don’t get through med school without a double helping of tenacity. Now, though, I think my stubbornness is bordering on insanity. Maybe it’s not bordering, maybe I’ve already crossed the line.

Maximus and I have sex two or three times a day, but I refuse to lie in bed with him after the deed is done. At first, I insisted we do it up against the wall, but I proved too greedy to follow through with that for long. There are too many pleasures to be shared that can only be done in a horizontal position.

But I’ve held firm on the no-cuddling edict.

One of the problems with having a decent IQ is that I’m too smart to be able to lie to myself for long. The no-affection mandate has nothing to do with him emotionally ghosting me over two months ago. I mean really, how long can I carry that grudge?

No, the tenderness injunction is to protect myself. I refuse to allow myself to get close to him. It terrifies me. Get close to Maximus? I forbid it.

More important, though, is that he needs me. It’s not just a want, it’s an urgent, desperate need of the life and death variety. How will I ever know if the warm look in his eyes is affection or if he’s just playing me to keep himself alive?

So we have sex. Mind-blowing sex, I might add. Several times a day. Every day. We’ve learned each other’s bodies very well. We’re well on our way to exploring every position known to man—and Addai.

Although I’ve initiated the no-cuddling mandate, it’s impossible not to bask in each other’s arms between bouts of sex. There are times when we’re taking a breather that I catch a look on his face that threatens to take my breath away. At moments it takes every ounce of internal strength I possess to rise out of bed and tell him I need to do something in medbay.

A knock at my door startles me. Crap. I should have been at the other cabin five minutes ago. We’re on a tight schedule today.

“Come in.”

The door opens, but he stands respectfully on the other side of the threshold. I take no joy in the fact that I’ve made this vibrant, vigorous gladiator into a male who needs to ask my permission for the smallest things. A pang of regret tightens my chest. I’ve been such a bitch. My heart is at war with my brain.

When I tell him, “I know we’re in a hurry, we can do it here,” I’m not surprised by his reluctance to enter my cabin.

“It’s okay. I want to give you a full charge before your fight.”

I throw myself into our bed-play to take my mind off my real worries. I was there when Vartan fought. I tended his wounds. I saw that the match went horribly wrong; the male could have been killed.

I keep my worries at bay while Maximus and I go at it, but when we’re spent, lying panting on my sheets, gruesome pictures of what might happen today invade my thoughts.

I’m a researcher by nature. I was all over the Intergalactic Database looking at pictures of the Anthen race, reading about their strengths and weaknesses. When I’m in Maximus’s arms, it’s easy to believe he’s the strongest male in the galaxy. When I picture him up against an Anthen warrior in his match today, though, it’s not a reassuring thought.

“I’ll be fine, Raine.” He’s twined a strand of my hair around his finger even though it’s against the rules. Doubling down, he leans and pulls me onto my side so we’re facing each other. “You’ve fed me with your body. I’ve been eating well, training hard, and taking the extra vitamin and mineral formula you made for me every day. I’ve not only recovered from the effects of the change, I’m stronger than ever. Don’t worry.”

He kisses me, heedless of my edict. I kiss him back, without hesitation. My thoughts tumble and crash as I realize he could have done this weeks ago and I would have allowed it. He kept the boundary out of respect for me, knowing he could have crossed it at any time.

“You’re a good male, Maximus. I’ve been such a bitch.”

“Shh.” He places his finger against my lips. “Don’t call the female I care about such names.”

He’s so generous with his praise, but it makes me feel even worse.

Tyree the pilot’s voice bursts in from overhead, “We’ve landed on Numa. I know we were scheduled to touch down earlier, but I had to avoid that asteroid belt. We’ll all need to board our rented hover-van right away to get to the arena in time for the prelims.”

My hands turn clammy as a spike of fear roars through me. Watching Vartan’s match seems like a dream. This, this seems so real.

Maximus is standing at the foot of the bed putting on his loincloth. It’s a sexy, personal thing to watch. It’s one long rectangular piece of cloth he winds around his body in a complicated series of twists and turns. It’s intimate to observe him twining it around himself as he wraps his cock and balls. I doubt I’ll ever grow tired of watching it.

After shaking that thought out of my head, I barely have an argument with myself before I override all my self-imposed prohibitions, launch at him, and fling myself into his arms.

In this position, my legs wrapped around his waist, we’re nose to nose.

“Tell me you’re going to fight your hardest,” I order him, my face serious, almost fierce.

“I always do, Raine.”

“Try harder.”

“Why?”

What if he dies during his match in a few hours? Vartan almost died. Who knows what could happen in Max’s match? Is my pride worth sending him to his death without the truth?

“Because I care about you.”

His face. His handsome, sardonic face transforms in the slowest increments. At first, it’s just the edges of his lips that tip into the beginnings of a smile. Then the grin gets bigger and makes the edges of his eyes crinkle. Then the emotion beams through at me—heart to heart.

“It’s because I care about you, too, that I’ll fight my hardest, Raine. Don’t worry. Maybe you shouldn’t watch.” His glowing golden gaze pierces mine.

“That’s crazy-talk, Maximus. Of course I’m going to watch. I won’t be able to pull my gaze from you.”

“Make me a promise,” he says, his smile gone, his expression solemn.

“Only if you’ll make me one.”

“When everyone in the arena is shouting for Maximus, call me Max. The crowd will call my full name. My friends will shout Max.”

The moment is so poignant. The sweetness of his request pierces the farthest recesses of my heart. The dark, cold place where I’ve been nurturing my hurt and anger.

“I promise,” I say as I give his lips the softest kiss imaginable. It’s full of promise even though I have nothing to promise him.

“And what do you want of me?” He raises one dark eyebrow.

“The sign, Max. The terrin sign. Promise you’ll give it if you’re in trouble.”

As a simple Earth girl, two months ago it seemed ridiculous when Vartan didn’t give the sign to save his life. I couldn’t fathom it. Now, after living with fifteen gladiators for months, I understand the depth and breadth of their pride. It’s not a small favor to ask.

He ponders for a long moment, not willing to give his word lightly, then, “I will come back to you, Raine. If I need to give the terrin sign to do that, I will.”

As we walk down the ramp out of the ship, I wonder what I just did. If Maximus wins this match, he’s going to expect things to be different between us. That’s not going to happen. I can’t allow it. The fundamental fact is I’ll never be able to determine if the affection he shows me is genuine or if it’s simply a biological imperative to keep himself alive.

The hover ride to the arena is uneventful and the wait for Max’s match is interminable. When I insist on walking into the catacombs with him, where he’ll sit waiting for his match, I get serious side-eye from every male on board.

I wait for Maximus to refuse me, but he nods his assent. Captain Beast, Max, and I enter the dark underground belly of the arena. It’s ancient and smells down here. I can imagine generations of gladiators sitting here in dread as they waited for their fight. I can also picture how many were stretchered back here, hurt or dead, after their match.

Max’s choice to have Beast accompany him here was strategic. They’re friends, but that wasn’t the reason it’s Beast here and none of the others. Beast was a Pinnacle fighter, I’m told there are only ten in the galaxy. He must be awesome in the arena.

When you become a Pinnacle you get five metal rings attached down the dorsum nasi of the nose. Anyone can tell your status from fifty paces away. It’s designed to strike fear into the heart of your opponents. It’s not a bad thing for Maximus to walk into his fight with a little prestige.

There’s a long bench against the wall where the gladiators are lined up, waiting. Some are nervous, jiggling a foot or cracking their neck. Others looked zoned out. Most of them find me interesting, their noses flaring as they notice me.

Maximus seems unashamed as he steps to me, holds my shoulders in his meaty hands, and says, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my promise.”

“As will I.”

Beast clasps Maximus’s upper arm, says, “Do well,” and we both leave to join our friends in the stands.

While waiting for his match, I fidget more than the males down below who were about to fight. I can’t sit still.

Aerie is on my left and Grace is on my right. They’re both holding my hands.

“Are you in love with him?” Aerie asks.

“Of course not.” I double down on my knee-jerk answer and have the audacity to look offended.

“You sure look like you’re worried sick about his match.”

“He’s a friend,” I snip.

Neither of the women say another word about my relationship with Max, but I’d have to be blind not to see the look they give each other. They don’t believe my denial. I don’t blame them. It’s common knowledge we’ve spent more time in our little love nest than in our own rooms over the past few weeks. They’d have to conclude I either have feelings for him or I’m a slut.

Six young boys blow long brass horns to announce the next match. It must be something they do all over the galaxy, since they did this on Hyperion too.

“Females and males!” the announcer shouts, “our next match features Maximus, free male from Addai!” Max enters the stadium, arms raised as if in victory, and begins a lap to his right, jogging around the ring of sand. It’s circular, almost the size of a football field.

“Versus Cato from Anthen, owned by Deezon Gorjan.”

Despite all my research, the sheer size and bulk of Max’s opponent are impressive. He’s got thick blue plating, similar in texture to a rhinoceros, on his pecs and thighs. His arms and legs are impressively muscled.

He has numerous horns on his head. Well, some are horns, some are more like bony protuberances. Instead of eyebrows, he has small plated nubs above and around his eyes. I wouldn’t want to encounter him in a dark alley.

Both of the males are nude. It would be shocking if I hadn’t seen the fights on Hyperion and the few matches before this one today.

Even though my heart is galloping in fear, I can’t ignore the sheer animalistic beauty of the slate-gray male squaring off against his opponent in the center of the arena. Max’s shoulders are wider than Cato’s; his haunches and thighs are more muscular and powerful.

At first, I wonder why his golden glowing mate mark fills me with pride, then I shrug. It proclaims me as this magnificent male’s female, why wouldn’t I feel proud?

When the announcer says, “Begin,” Max rushes his opponent. Watching the two of them grapple is like the World Wrestling Federation on steroids. I can hear their grunts, and the powerful slapping of flesh all the way to my seat in the second row.

I hadn’t realized I was holding on so tightly, but Grace wriggles her fingers from my grasp and rubs one hand with the other as if I hurt her.

“Sorry,” I tell her.

“No problem. If that were Tyree out there, I’d wouldn’t even be able to watch.”

A few days ago, I asked Max to explain the rules. I wanted to know what to expect.

“There are none,” had been his response.

“No rules? Really?” I’d replied.

“No weapons, no poisons, no clothes.” He looks up for a moment, thinking. “That’s it.”

So I’m not surprised when he knees his opponent in the balls so hard the male doubles over in pain.

Max dips to his knees behind Cato, snugs the inside of his elbow against his opponent’s windpipe, and tightens his grip. He chokes his opponent with such force the male’s hands are scratching against him, scrabbling for purchase.

Cato snakes his hands between himself and Max, balls his fists, and thrusts up and out with so much effort he breaks Max’s grip. Max is jerked forward as Cato slams his head into Max’s face. Cato rolls to his side and rises to his feet, catching Max off guard and putting him into a chokehold from behind.

“Max,” I breathe, my pulse leaping in my throat. The question passes through my mind that if my feelings for him aren’t real, why do I feel as if Cato just knocked my breath from my lungs? I remind myself it’s not so much that my feelings for him aren’t real. I’m beginning to think they are. It’s that I can’t trust the veracity of his feelings for me.

Max turns 180 degrees into Cato’s hold, so they are face to face, barely an inch of space between their bodies.

Max strikes as fast as a rattlesnake when he turns, stands behind Cato, grabs the male’s wrist and pulls it as far up the male’s back in a half nelson as a body can endure without the arm breaking. Using his knee, he puts pressure against the back of Cato’s knee, forcing the male to the ground so hard I think I hear the crunch of his bone hitting the sand with hundreds of pounds of force.

Max leans his opponent forward, pushing the male’s face into the sand until the official calls, “Match to Maximus!”

On Earth, a lifetime ago, I used to flip through the channels when I came to WWF wrestling. Even though I knew it was rigged, it was too aggressive for my tastes.

Today, I rise to my feet with the rest of the crowd. I hear them chanting, “Maximus! Maximus!” I join them, but I shout, “Max.”

When the match is called, and Maximus proclaimed the winner, I resist the urge to sag into my seat in relief. I walk to the three-foot-high stone wall in front of me for a closer look, still chanting Max’s name.

Impossibly, amid the crowd of thousands, Max’s gaze unerringly finds me. He raises his fist in my direction and bows his head, acknowledging me in front of the entire stadium.

Years ago, I watched some old movie where the knights wore a ribbon on their arm to announce to one and all which maiden they were competing to impress. I remember that being romantic and swoon-worthy. It wasn’t half as romantic as this.

I’m still standing motionless, my hand on my heart, when everyone discusses their plan. The single males choose to stay to watch the rest of the matches. The women and their mates wait at the hover while Beast and I collect my male. Did I just think of him as ‘my male’? Well, umtil his mate-bond is broken, I guess he is.

I’d been too caught up in the struggle to catch all the details of the action. When we approach Max, who’s receiving a card with his payment, I notice he’s covering his left eye with his palm.

When he turns to grin at me, I can see his eye is swelled almost completely shut. If his skin wasn’t so dark, I’m sure it would already be bruising.

I wonder what other places on his body are beaten and aching. I suppress my urge to kiss him, choosing instead to go into doctor mode. It’s familiar and soothing because I can stay in command.

I reach into the small pouch at my waist and retrieve the patch that was designed for eye injuries like this. I walk to him and reach up, gently probe his eye to inspect for damage. Finding the bone around his eye intact, I press the patch over the eye.

A small stylis, similar to the glucose testing diabetics use on Earth, punctures ths skin and releases the trapped blood and fluid around the eye. An absorbent pad soaks it up . When I remove it his eye is open and looks almost normal. Amazing!

As soon as I’m done, Max lifts me in his arms and kisses me hard on the lips.

“Did you keep your promise?” he asks with a jaunty smile that would rival the most brazen pirate.

“Yes, Maximus.”

“What?” His head tips back as he inspects me. Does he really think I welched on a deal?

“Yes, Max.”

“Better. Want to look around Numa? I have money.” He waves his card.

“We have a date back on the Playground .”

“Right!” He flashes me a white-toothed, jaunty smile.

“Not that!” I slap his shoulder. “Put me down. We have something else on the agenda.”

“It can wait a day, Raine. Let’s explore Numa.” I don’t think he’s that keen on checking out the planet. I think he just doesn’t want to make the comm we have planned.

“I’ve explored Numa on the Intergalactic Database,” I tell him. “It’s a hellhole filled with gladiator fights, gambling dens, whorehouses, and has the highest percentage of pickpockets per capita of any planet in the galaxy.”

“Good thing I don’t have pockets.” There’s that piratical smile again.

I’m still in his arms, my feet dangling off the floor, my chest smashed to his. I feel his cock begin to harden against my belly. He sets me down, and we turn to leave.

Maximus

Before we leave the catacombs, I put on my loincloth, then we find our friends at the hover. The rest of them are going to explore the city, but Raine is right. I’ve heard there’s nothing worth seeing on this side of the planet.

Besides, we have business to conduct back on the ship.

We’re in the rear of the hover-van, hip to hip in the middle of the bench seat. I just fought a difficult fight. That Anthen was bigger and stronger than other Anthens I’ve fought. When I hit him in his plating he didn’t seem to register it as pain.

None of it matters now. All I can focus on is Raine. I resent this quirk of biology, this mate-bond. I’m not the male I was a few lunars ago. I find it hard to focus on anything but the female next to me. This bond is a force of nature. It feels compelling, more important than the fight I just won. But it’s just a trick. Raine says it’s hormones and body chemistry. It’s not real. It’s a mirage.

When we arrive back on the ship, I take a quick shower, then a nap. I’m stalling.

Then, instead of doing what I need to do, I talk Raine into a moment in the vacant cabin. By asking for this I feel like I’m lying to her even though I need it. This was my first match since the mate-bond. It drained me like nothing I’ve felt before. I need Raine to re-charge me.

As soon as our bed-play is complete, Raine rolls off the mattress and gets dressed. I guess we both know what needs to be done. Perhaps when this is over, I won’t need her. At least I won’t need her as often.

I don’t have a lot of clothes in the closet. I like to wear a loincloth on the ship, and I wear my leather kilt and sash when I’m on a planet. It makes me look like I’m on official business and keeps people at bay.

No loincloth for me today. I pull on black pants and a black shirt that buttons up the front. I’ve never worn one like it before.

“Ready?” Raine asks.

I nod, not wanting her to know I dread this comm more than I dreaded walking into the arena to battle a hardened Anthen warrior.

“We’re alone on the ship. The comms unit is set up, ready for us to press the button. Do you want me in the room with you, or would you like some privacy?”

Perhaps it’s the result of the mate-bond, but I don’t feel right when she’s not nearby.

“Could you stay on the bridge with me? Maybe out of sight?” I don’t know if her presence will affect the interaction.

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

I’m always uncomfortable on the bridge. I can’t read and don’t know what half the instruments are for. But I sit in the captain’s chair and settle in, just as Tyree instructed when he set this up.

After taking a deep breath, when I’m just about to connect the comm, Raine says, “I’m right here. I’m with you, Max. You’re going to do fine. If it doesn’t go the way you want, I’ll still be here. For you. You know that, right?”

No, I didn’t know that. It’s good to hear. And what did she mean by ‘go the way you want?’ I have no idea what I want.

“Thanks.”

For my thirty years as a slave, I tried to forget my family. It’s not hard to do. When you’re five years old, the past quickly becomes hazy and then disappears.

My memories of my family were never completely erased, though. I thought of them when the air was crisp in autumn. I recalled my last birthday had been when the air had that certain cool tang.

For the first few annum , if I paid attention hard enough, I could see my parents’ faces, but I haven’t been able to do that for decades.

When I was freed from slavery I considered long and hard if I should contact them, but I could never make myself do it. The first thing getting in the way was the thousand times my captors told me I’d been sold into slavery by unloving parents.

At first, I hadn’t believed it—it didn’t line up with my memories. But as the memories faded, my owners’ assertions that I’d never been wanted began to sound more believable.

Now when I consider contacting my parents, all it takes is one look in the mirror to remind myself I can never be the young male they loved.

I’m not in the habit of lying—to myself or others. I know who I am. I’m bold and brash and loud. Raine wasn’t shy pointing out I’m thoughtless. I still feel guilty when I think about that elderly female on Hyperion. Raine said I almost pushed her to the ground. My face heats in embarrassment when I recall barging in front of a line of people at the restaurant then practically bullying the hostess into escorting us to a table.

What parent could love a son like that?

So I never contacted my parents after I fought for my freedom. But I need them now, so I’m going to brave the look of disgust in their eyes when we have our first comm.

After taking a deep breath and swallowing non-existent spit,I press the button. A moment later an Addai female with hair the color of mine says, “Hello.”

“Is this Anasassa Maximus?” I ask. I hope she speaks loudly because I doubt I’ll be able to hear a word she says over my pounding heart. I’ve imagined this comm a thousand times, maybe a million. In all of my imaginings, I never thought I’d turn to stone and lose my ability to think, but that’s what’s happening.

“Who is this?” she asks.

“Madd Durrun Maximus.”

Her gold eyes pop wide in surprise, then narrow in anger.

“Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t terminate the comm right this moment,” she says, her face hard.

“Maybe you should sit down and take a breath. This has to come as a shock. Please don’t stop this comm. You lost a son thirty annums ago. He was abducted by slavers and taken to an asteroid on the outer rings. He trained as a gladiator and was forced to fight until several lunars ago when he escaped slavery.”

Her face crumples in some emotion I can’t define. Not only do her shoulders sag, but her entire body seems to fall in on itself. Except her gaze doesn’t leave the screen. Her intelligent eyes flick up and down, assessing, weighing, and measuring me.

She asks me a few more questions, calls my father to join the comm, then they both ask dozens more questions. It’s more like an interrogation than mere questioning. I can’t answer most of their queries.

It’s been a long time since I was five. I remember little of my childhood. Raine said not only would a youngling not recall much before that age, but the trauma would erase most of what a normal person would retain.

“Only a despicable person would prey upon a grieving family thirty annums after their child was abducted,” my father snarls. He’s a hearty male with green eyes and lighter skin than mine. I inherited my coloring from my mother.

I put my face on lockdown so I don’t reveal all the emotions warring inside me. For the first time in memory, I’m looking at my parents.

“You’re right. Only a despicable person would do that. I’m not despicable. A test was performed with my DNA results. Give me instructions on how to send them. I’d like to visit you once the formalities are complete. If that’s not something you’d be open to, there’s no reason for this process to go further.”

We complete the negotiations as if we’re strangers, which I guess we are. Is blood that important? I want to shrug it off, but the hot moisture behind my eyes tells a different story.

As we’re about to sign off, the female who I think is my mother looks straight at me and says, “Madd?” her voice is soft, the hard edge she used throughout the discussion has disappeared. “Madd, if that’s really you, if you’re really my son, I want to tell you not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you or missed you or prayed for your return.

“If the testing proves you’re Madd Durrun Maximus? Welcome home.” She reaches out and touches the screen, the pads of her fingers trailing from top to bottom as if she were caressing my cheek.

The fight with the Anthen a few hoaras ago? It’s nothing compared to the way my stomach feels now—as if I were punched in the gut.

It might just be wishful thinking, but the look in her eyes, although filled with sadness, seems familiar.

I want to tell her something reassuring, but I won’t lie. I refuse to tell her I thought of her every day. That wouldn’t be true. Banishing my family from my thoughts was the only thing that kept me sane for long decades.

“The memories I have are good ones. All those annums I thought of you and my father fondly.”

When the comm blinks out, I want to sag in my seat, but I don’t move a muscle. I don’t feel Raine’s eyes on me. When I look over, I see her head turned away from me. She’s giving me space.

“Need something from me?” she asks.

If this mate-bond were real, if our connection wasn’t just a combination of hormones and chemistry, I’d want her on my lap. I’d want to hug her without a word passing between us.

“No. Thanks.”

Raine

The past six days have been a whirlwind. Max’s DNA results were already documented, so within an hour his parents responded with a formal invitation to visit.

It was so touching to watch him interact with them that first day. All three were emotional in their own ways. Since then, Max has had a few brief comms with them. They’ve even had some light moments as they get to know each other.

He and I have worked like a well-oiled machine since then. We got Beast to agree to transport us to Addai. We discussed how to ask his parents to help us. We studied some of his peoples’ customs so we could be respectful.

I’ve stayed off-camera and out of the way, but today Max wants me visible. We moved the venue from the bridge to his room. He’s comfortable here and we have more privacy.

He acts like the stoic gladiator he’s been his whole life, but he can’t hide all of the emotions simmering under his tough exterior.

We arrive on Addai tomorrow and Max decided it’s time to divulge my presence and give at least a hint of why, although he’s been free for months, he’s decided to seek them out now. I’ll admit, I’m nervous.

“Mema, Isa,” he says, calling his parents the Addai equivalent of mom and dad at their request. “I have some news. I want to introduce Raine, the ship’s doctor.”

He motions me into the camera’s line of sight. Showtime! Although they give me welcoming smiles, I don’t think that’s going to last long after he tells them who I really am.

They look expectant, waiting for Max to explain my presence. When he just sits there tongue-tied, his mom offers, “Did she save your life?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. That was after we . . . accidentally became bond-mates. She’s been kind enough to keep me alive.”

Crickets. Awkward crickets as his mom and dad parse through the information and realize what he just said is that we’ve been fucking like bunnies to appease his biological demands.

“Normally this would be cause for celebration,” his mom says, her eyes flicking back and forth between us. “Neither of you looks happy, son. What is the problem? Is it us? Are you worried about our reaction to this? I’ll admit, had things been different we would have wished for you to mate a nice Addai female. As things are, we’re so happy to have you back in our lives we’ll love any mate of yours as long as it means you’re healthy and content.”

“There were other circumstances,” Max explains, using the script we worked on together. “We’ve been doing what we need to keep me alive, but neither of us thinks this is the right match. Luckily Raine’s medical training allowed her to discover that if we travel to Addai it might reduce my urgent reliance on her. She found some things in her research that hinted at a cure.

“I’m excited about seeing you again, but our other motive for visiting is to lessen my need so we can return to some semblance of our normal lives.”

His mother greets this news by holding her stomach as if she’s in physical pain. His father’s face has a deep furrow etched between his brows.

“You’ve mate-bonded?” his father asks. “You’ve been off-planet decades. Perhaps you don’t know what that means. Can I . . . can I see your chest?”

We had discussed the possibility his parents would request this. He unbuttons and removes his shirt.

Over the last few days, I’ve discovered his mother’s face is very expressive. I watch her observe his markings, then see her lips tighten as she sees the roadmap of scars on his chest. It must be one thing to be told your son was a gladiator and quite another to see the evidence of his years as a slave.

“I’m not sure what you read on the Intergalactic Database. Perhaps their information isn’t as up-to-date or accurate as it should be,” his father informs us. “On Addai, a mating ceremony is performed, then the couple has a week of private time scheduled. When bodily fluids comingle regularly and the couple stays close to each other, the physical mate-bond response is activated.

“Sometimes this occurs in as few as two days. It can take up to five. In olden days, when the mating mark appeared, the male would leave his hut to prove to the clan the bond was true. Now it’s more common to receive a picture through comms. It’s always a cause for a joyous celebration when the couple emerges from their private time.”

Max and I know this from our research.

“The male’s needs can be voracious at first, then they lessen in a lunar or less so the couple can return to their normal lives.”

“It’s been two and a half lunars ,” Max explains. “If anything, my needs have increased, not lessened.”

“Usually Addais don’t mate-bond with other species. I’ve never heard of it. That might be the problem. Or perhaps it has something to do with the planet itself. It’s atmosphere perhaps? The gravitational pull? I’m a businessman, not a scientist.”

“One thing is certain,” his mom says, “it’s good you’re coming home. We’ll sort this out when you get here.” She sits up straight, throws her shoulders back, and says, “You’ll be here tomorrow? Let’s continue this conversation then. Our family servant Vell will be at the port precisely at ten to pick you up. We’ll send some traditional Addai clothing. Would you wear it for your homecoming?”

Max nods. I say nothing, assuming they’re only talking to him.

“And you, Raine? As of this moment, according to Addai custom, you’re our daughter. Will you wear the clothing we send?”

Daughter? Did she accidentally leave out the ‘in-law’ part?

“Yes. I’d be honored.”

“Good. See you tomorrow.” We terminate the comm.

“They didn’t seem happy,” I say as I ease onto his lap before I remember I shouldn’t.

“They called you their daughter. They couldn’t be too unhappy.”