Page 49 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid

“No,” she said quickly, sniffling. “Don’t.”

“Sedative aborted.”

She sighed in relief, though it was short-lived. A robotic arm wielding a needle came out of the sidewall of the pod next. Something bearing the familiar smell of anesthetic was sprayed over her injury, and then she was stuck listening to the small, unsettling sounds the robot made as it stitched her back together.

“Injury treated,” it proclaimed when it finished, the needle and nozzle disappearing back into the pod. “Infection treated.Vitals stable. If you experience new or worsening symptoms, please return to the medpod for assessment. Thank you.”

The glass lid whirred open once more, allowing the chillier air of the room to spill over her damp skin. The hair on her arms pricked up as she shivered. She sat up slowly, still feeling a slight tug in her side where the pod had stitched her up, and covered her chest.

“How do I look?” She joked, knowing she was sweaty, dirty, bloody, and now covered in the sticky purple residue of whatever anesthetic the pod had used.

Rentir’s eyes turned molten with hunger. “Perfect.” His voice was as rough as gravel. “How do you feel?”

“Brand new,” she said, gesturing toward her discarded shirt.

He handed it to her, a flicker of disappointment passing over his face.

“Turn around.”

Obediently, he spun, but his tail reached for her. It knocked against her knee and slid around the back of it, and there was something strangely sensual about being touched there. His breath hitched, and she knew he was smelling the sudden surge of wetness between her legs.

“Okay. I’m decent.” Was her voice a little wobbly?

He turned back to her, lids heavy, and she would have known what he was thinking even without the obvious bulge in his pants. It had to hurt, that perpetual hard-on. She was sure it would if he were a human man. Actually, she didn’t even know if a human man could keep an erection for as long as Rentir had without chewing Viagra like they were Tic Tacs.

The silence between them stretched into awkwardness.

“I’d kill for a shower,” she said.

He nodded slowly, dragging his eyes up from their perusal of her body. “You will not need to resort to violence. I will ask Melam where the facilities are.”

She laughed at his literal interpretation of her words. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

“I see.” His frown suggested he did not, in fact, see. “Humans toss around such strange phrases casually.”

“I guess we do.” She hopped down from the pod.

He didn’t step back, still studying her with that uninhibited intensity. His body seemed to sway toward her.

“I probably shouldn’t bother with the shower.” She sighed in misery. “We haven’t made any progress. The only crew member I found was literally abducted before my eyes. We need to get back out there.”

“We will not leave until you have recovered further,” Rentir said in a tone that brooked no argument. His tail skimmed up her arm with a tenderness that was at odds with his authoritative statement. “It will be dark soon, anyway. Whatever trail we pick up, we’ll lose in short order. We should remain here for the night.”

“Youcan do whatever you want,” she argued, unable to hear the reality in his words past the pain of her failure. “I’m going back out there to find my people!”

“You cannot. In this state, fatigued and hungry and injured, you are a liability to your crew, not their savior.”

A liability. Her stomach shriveled as he unintentionally struck home on her insecurities. She batted his tail away, wilting.

Cursed, the little voice in her whispered.

“Cordelia?”

She ground her teeth, staring past his shoulder.

He whined low in his throat, a sound more animal than man, and ducked his head until their eyes met. “We will resume at first light, I swear this to you,” he said in a pleading tone. “I must figure out transportation and rations for the trip with Melam.”

His distress at having displeased her thawed her indignation. She sighed, rubbing both hands over her sun-burned face. The medpod had taken most of the sting away, but it still throbbed faintly as she lowered her hands. Fatigue thrummed beneath her skin, making her muscles lax.