Page 13 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 12

VOS

The next week passed in a comforting routine.

My Calla began her days with breakfast and light exercise, then rested. She still could not stand without me taking most of her weight, and the pain in her legs and abdomen remained of great concern to me, but her appetite improved significantly and her pallor gave way to a much healthier color.

Perhaps best of all, she smiled frequently—at me, at the food I prepared for her, at Poe, and most especially upon waking to find I had moved a half-dozen potted plants into our bedroom, including a vinefruit sapling that would begin bearing fruit within a year.

I buried my worry that she might not still be here to see the fruit and focused on my happiness at the way her eyes lit up when she saw the little tree. She had indeed been starved for the comfort of growing things. What a wonder Iosa would be to her once the rainy season ended and the sun and rich soil turned my walled yard into a lush garden full of vegetables, fruits, and flowers .

Most of all I wanted to take her to my beloved ocean, but I could not risk it until she could not only walk but protect herself from predators during the journey and in the water. I expected to pine for the sea intensely in the meantime, but it seemed my body had forgotten its yearning if I could not bring Calla with me. I missed the ocean, but with my Calla near, I did not ache for its depths.

That she had given me permission to call her my Calla filled me with joy and deep contentment beyond words, despite twinges of unease that came with thoughts of Calla deciding to leave Iosa. Whenever I had such thoughts, rather than dwell on them, I busied myself around my home, transforming it as best I could from a stark and utilitarian space to a place of comfort and pleasant sights and smells. I could not make the choice for her, but I could do whatever was in my power to persuade her to stay.

Every morning when Calla opened her eyes, yawned, stretched gingerly, and smiled at me, it chipped away at my fears.

And each time she asked me to help her bathe, or kissed me, or requested to sit on the sofa to watch me cook, the song in my hearts grew.

“You’re cheerful today,” Calla said on the eighth morning since our agreement to start again. She had foregone her usual mid-morning nap and asked instead to sit on the sofa near the fire wrapped in blankets. The day was unseasonably chilly and high winds shook the house. A nuoia was rolling through along the coast. Even Poe had come inside and was dozing in her nest. We doubted anything would venture out of its shelter to invade our garden in this weather.

“You keep smiling like you know a secret,” Calla added, her voice light with mirth. “Come on, Vos. Tell me what’s got you looking so happy on such a cold and windy day.”

“There is no secret.” I set a clean cooking pot on a shelf and turned to find her smiling. My tentacles quivered with happiness at the sight. “It is you who makes me so happy. I have told you this. Do you doubt me?”

Her smile turned wry. “It’s not that I doubt your word. I might doubt your judgment. Maybe you’ve lived here by yourself with Poe too long and I’m a fraction as smile-worthy as you think.”

“I highly doubt it, but if it is so, then I am happily misguided.” I poured a cup of water and brought it to the sofa. “Are you thirsty, my beautiful fantasy?”

Her laugh made my hearts soar. “I am. Don’t tell me you could smell that I’m dehydrated.”

“No, but I noticed you have not consumed any water yet today.” I scooped her up, settled myself on the sofa, and arranged her on my lap so she was sitting up enough to drink from the cup. “I will make us tea once I have a chance to rest from making breakfast and cleaning the kitchen.”

Her eyes narrowed at me over the rim of the cup. “Vos Turek, don’t tell me you need to rest after cooking and tidying the kitchen. That is bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

I chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You have caught me in a lie. I missed holding you.”

“You were holding me less than two hours ago,” she pointed out, but she did not ask me to get up. She sipped her water, her gaze on the window. “It’s pouring out there, even by Iosa standards. We’re not in danger of flooding, are we?”

“No. At least, I do not think so,” I amended. “I have lived here during storms like this and hurricanes and never seen flooding. Even if this area did become flooded, our home is very secure and watertight, even where I have added on to its original form.”

If she noted my slip of our home , I hoped she assumed I had referred to Poe and myself.

“That’s a relief. I don’t think I’d be much help in an evacuation, even if you owned a boat.” She settled in against my chest, the cup wrapped in her hands, and looked around. “I especially don’t want anything to spoil all the work you’ve been doing. This looks like a different house now with all these plants and that pretty red moss. It’s like living in a garden.” She craned her neck and kissed my jaw. “Thank you.”

“Your smiles are all the thanks I need.” I covered one of her hands with mine. “Are you sleepy? Achy from the exercise?”

“Surprisingly, no. And believe it or not, my stomach doesn’t hurt as much as usual either.” Her smile returned. “We haven’t used the medical scanner to check me over lately, but maybe some of the worst injuries are healing.”

“We will check,” I promised. I wanted nothing more than to see fewer orange and red notations on its screen and more blue. “Though you feel much improved, we must remain careful and not exceed your limitations. We have both been injured enough to know impatience and over-exertion during healing leads to significant setbacks.”

“I know.” Calla sighed. “I used to compete with my squadron mates to see who could do the most pull-ups or high-G jumps. Now I’m just happy to sit up for any length of time without it hurting. And yes, I know it’s temporary,” she added before I could speak. “I’ll get there. I damn near took a step today, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” I kissed her hair again, drinking in its silky softness and the lingering scent of my hair soap. “Have you slept better these last few days?”

“I have.” She looked up at me. “Maybe that’s why I’m not as tired during the day today. Have you seen me acting like I’m having a nightmare?”

“No, I have not.” I smiled. “Nor have I needed to coo for you during the night. I hoped that meant your dreams have been more pleasant.”

“Not all of them, but some.” She squeezed my hand a little tighter than before. She was getting stronger. “I had one last night that you and I were in the garden surrounded by plants and it wasn’t raining. It seemed so real, but I knew it was a dream because it’s never not raining.”

The thought of sitting in the garden with my Calla made my hearts sing. “It will not always rain. The rainy season is drawing to an end.”

“I wonder if I’ll miss the sound of rain,” she mused. “Assuming you’re right and it does stop raining. Which I will believe only when I see it.”

How wonderful to be comfortably teased like this. My mood, already light, became almost effervescent.

Quiet minutes passed as Calla drank her water and we watched and listened to heavy, windblown raindrops pummeling the window above the sofa. Poe had withdrawn into her shell to sleep, and eventually I found myself almost dozing.

“Vos,” Calla murmured.

I pressed my lips to her hair. “Yes?”

“Tell me about the ocean.”

I had not expected that question, but if she wanted to know more about our surroundings, I was happy to oblige.

“The oceans of Iosa are very beautiful,” I said. “From my home, it is a two-kilometer journey across marsh and swamp to a small inlet where I like to enter the ocean. The walk is not entirely safe, but if you walk quickly and quietly, most trips are uneventful.”

“I remember what you said about the kaory and the snakes.” She wrinkled her nose. “So why that inlet?”

“I prefer not to be noticed in my comings and goings, especially by anyone from the raider camp. The inlet is secluded. I have never known anyone else to go there. I enter the water unseen and swim in the deep before returning the same way.”

“That sounds so peaceful.” She rested her head on my tentacle. “ I can see why you like it here. As long as some gigantic sea creature doesn’t swallow you whole, it seems perfect.”

I chuckled softly. “The largest creatures of the deep do not come too near the coast. As for the rest, I smell like a predator to most sea life, so they tend to keep their distance.”

Despite the heat from the fire, she shivered. I drew her blankets around her more snugly.

“The waters of the deep are purple, and the sea floor is covered with beautiful plants and marine life,” I continued. “My favorite way to visit the sea is to drift with the deep current along the shore and then swim back to the inlet. Drifting is very restful, and the return is good exercise.”

My Calla frowned. “Letting the current take you wherever it wants doesn’t sound so restful, but I suppose you’re safe enough.”

After all she had suffered, naturally the thought of giving up control to an unpredictable outside force would unnerve her.

“It took many months for me to enjoy drifting,” I admitted. “And even more until it became peaceful and meditative. I had to discover new depths within myself before I could find peace in surrendering myself to the currents.”

“I can’t imagine being able to do that.” She shook her head. “Was that what you were doing the night I crashed? Drifting?”

“Yes.” I drew her closer, in case memories of that night upset her. “I had just reached the farthest point I could go without getting too close to the raider camp and started to turn around when your fighter hit the water nearby.”

“I’m sorry I almost landed on you.” She smiled up at me, though the expression was fleeting. “I was trying to land in the water and not hit the lights I saw from above as I fell. I guess that was their camp.”

“Yes, probably.”

“Soulless bastards.” She scowled. “The lot of them.”

How I adored her ferocity. I kissed her gently. For all her fierceness, her lips were so sweet and perfectly soft, and she returned my kiss.

Every little intimate touch sizzled on my skin and stirred longing in my hearts and tentacles. I carefully rationed my kisses and tried to keep my hands and tentacles on her blankets rather than her bare skin, other than the tentacle that habitually coiled around her ankle.

Despite my determination to not rush into physical intimacy, I yearned for her more with every passing day, and at night I dreamed of her body on mine. Just touching my lips to hers caused blood to rush to my cock.

I struggled to rein in my arousal before she noticed. I treasured this tenderness between us and did not want to jeopardize the connection we had built. Still, my desire burned like the fires of a forge.

“I am very grateful you almost landed on me, my Calla,” I said. “I would have given anything to have made that night less terrible for you.”

“We’ve made the best of it, though, haven’t we?” This time her smile did not immediately fade. “Speaking of which, would you be willing to bathe me? It’s raining too hard for you to do anything outside, and I worked up a good sweat exercising earlier. I’d like to feel clean and soak in hot water for a while.”

If bathing was among her most favorite things about my home, I would not say no.

“I will fill the tub,” I said, and started to rise.

“Thank you. Please throw in some of those pretty orange leaves that make the water smell so good.” She caught my hand. “Will you bathe with me?”

All my longing for the ocean crested in a sudden wave of desire to do what I had not dared to do since Calla’s first night in my home: cradle her in the water. I wanted that joy and pleasure so much that my hearts ached and my tentacles quivered. My fear of taking a wrong step warred with my need for her .

The way she held my gaze let me know she knew what being in the water with her meant to me. This was a step she wanted to take, and I yearned to take it with her. As long as I followed her lead and listened to my instincts, we could find something even more beautiful together. And I would forever be grateful for the privilege.

Calla squeezed my hand. “Vos, it’s all right if you don’t want to. I understand.” She smiled ruefully. “I still need a lifeguard, though.”

Once again she had offered me a choice, and once again I must follow my hearts.

“I would be happy to join you,” I said, caressing her cheek very gently as she looked at me with those beautiful green eyes. “I will fill the tub.”

She kissed my fingertips. “I’m not going anywhere, but don’t take too long getting ready. I’m stinky and achy. I want to be in the water.”

She did not stink , but I did not argue.

I rose, settled her on the sofa, and hurried to the bathroom to draw the bath, my tentacles dancing in happiness and anticipation.