Page 37 of Hooded (Gladiators of the Gryn #5)
FERN
The medical facilities on Fenes are rudimentary compared to those in the rest of the galaxy but sophisticated compared to those on Earth. Narlix warned me this would be the case before she left. Not everyone wants to stay on Fenes, and she said she had other places she would rather be.
In the last nova-month, Klynn has remade our nest twice, and I have started showing, my little belly popping out like a half moon. He has absolutely no idea about Gryn gestation (not that I have much to go on with humans either) and this means we’re going to have to run the gauntlet of being in public.
After our time at the hands of the Tormelek, I do not mind being left to our own devices in the slightest. The food re-hydrator provides us with all our needs, supplemented with supplies I obtain from the outskirts of the local town. Klynn still doesn’t play well with others, not even the benign Fenere, who only seem to want to help and are super cute with their whiskers and paws.
My mate does not think so, usually sending them scattering with a growl. If I had any idea what living with Klynn might be like, I was entirely wrong.
Although he does manage to produce breakfast in bed every morning without fail. I don’t think there has been a single occasion where I’ve woken up and he hasn’t been staring down at me with a smile as wide as a nebula.
With anyone else, it would be creepy, but I know it’s just Klynn being Klynn. Any social sensibilities he may have once had were taken by his time in the dome. He eats as if he’s never going to be fed again, growls at anything he doesn’t like or understand, and is protective of me in a way which is both sweet and scary (although less for me and more for the Fenere).
So waking up with a huge Gryn gazing at me with a dopey smile on his face has become the norm. As has being excessively tired, my back aching, and always being hungry.
Klynn curls a wing around me as we walk through the main square of the small town near where we have made our home. He’s keeping up a low level of snarl. Since I first heard his thoughts, as clear as day, the phenomenon he called a ‘thoughtbond’ has been intermittent. Today there is a general malaise emanating from him because he isn’t happy about being among the general populace.
Mostly because he seems to think they want to fight him.
I am absolutely sure that is not the case. But my conviction does not soothe my great Gryn male.
“Medic-center?” he growls at a passing Fenere.
“Over there,” the chipper male replies, pointing at a low pink building among a number of baby blue ones.
Klynn growls, and the Fenere smiles and hurries away as Klynn flares his wings.
“I think we might have to work on your species skills,” I grumble.
“I don’t like species,” Klynn growls. “Except you.”
“For today, can you pretend a bit?”
Klynn contemplates my request. “Pretend?”
“Not growl so much, for me?”
“I already growl for you, little fury.”
This is not working.
“How about you keep the growl inside?”
“Growls do not wish to be kept inside, that is the point of growls,” Klynn says as we reach the building and the doors open for us into an airy atrium.
Against them, Klynn seems even bigger than usual. I take a deep breath.
“If you can keep them to a minimum, say four a nova-hour?”
“Four a nova-hour…” Klynn cocks his head on one side. “I will try.” He growls.
“That’s your first one,” I jump in quickly.
He growls under his breath.
“And your second.”
Klynn goes to open his mouth, then shuts it again. Could it have worked?
“Can I assist you?” A female Fenere pops her head around the corner.
Klynn growls, his wings extending.
“Three,” I point out.
He snaps his wings and assumes a look like thunder but manages to hold whatever growl he was thinking about.
“My mate is with young. We wish to be sure both her and the young are well,” he says, smooth as you like.
Where has my feral male gone?
“How exciting!” the Fenere says, clapping her little paws together. “We would love to assist.” She gestures to a seating area. “Wait here. I will get the necessary forms.”
“Forms?” I query.
“We are fugitives, on the run from space pirates. We are unable to fill in forms ,” Klynn says, managing not to growl in what has to be a herculean effort.
“Space pirates? Oh my!” The Fenere hurries off.
“I don’t think that was a good idea.”
“I don’t want our details recorded anywhere, little fury,” Klynn says. “Not until we can be sure the Tormelek are destroyed and no one is looking for us. Not after what happened on Trefa.”
“You think someone is looking for us?” I’m well aware of Klynn’s paranoia, which mostly manifests itself in his wanting to stay away from the town, but until now he hasn’t voiced his concerns.
“They wanted both of us for different purposes, and our presence was transmitted to plenty of their cronies,” Klynn says quietly. “Until I can be sure we are not wanted, I believe we should lie low.” He sucks in a breath. “It might be true the Sarkarnii dealt with the Bogarok invasion on Trefa, but we don’t know for sure.”
“Narlix?” I suggest. “She’s been away for a while. She’d know what’s going on. She’s got as good a reason for wanting to steer clear of the Tormelek as we do.”
I partly want to suggest my old employer, Markus, to get the full picture, but he hadn’t left a single message when I got back to my ship. It was as if I didn’t exist to him, and that alone is enough to make me suspicious.
Could he have set the Tormelek on us? I wouldn’t put it past him. After all, the whole thing with the mark I was supposed to pick up was unusually cloak and dagger.
“Maybe Narlix,” Klynn says. “But until we know, no forms, no trace.”
He looks over at the group of Fenere heading our way.
“And you only have one growl left,” I say. “Use it wisely.”