Page 20 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 19

CALLA

According to Vos, in the language of its first settlers from Jakora, Iosa meant “a new beginning.”

But as I sat alone in Vos’s garden the next morning with a cup of tea, watching Poe putter around and enjoying a rare hour without rain, I wondered what “new beginning” meant to me.

Could someone who’d enlisted in the Galactic Alliance Defense with such enthusiasm and felt most alive in the cockpit of a fighter somehow find happiness living on a sparsely populated moon of a non-Alliance planet on the edge of uncharted space, even if Vos really was everything he seemed to be?

I truly didn’t know.

I couldn’t think clearly around Vos because every time I looked at him I wanted to jump on his face or his cock, so I’d come outside by myself to consider my options. And as much as he clearly wanted to be by my side, he’d stayed in the house—after telling Poe that I must be safe at all costs.

No one had ever said that about me. The closest I’d ever come to that level of protection was my squadron mates, who’d always had my back in any battle just as I’d had theirs, and not just because of honor or duty. Even so, Vos’s care was different. He didn’t just want me safe. He wanted me to be happy, content, sheltered, and satisfied, in every sense of those words.

I expected his devotion to feel smothering. The fact it wasn’t, and that I wanted more of it, left me confused and lost.

I’d had no parents to speak of, no family, and no sense of belonging until I joined the Alliance Defense and spent years living, working, fighting, and surviving with my squadron. Maybe it made sense that I wanted to be treasured and adored for a change, even if I’d never really entertained that possibility before. Treasured and adored simply weren’t in my vocabulary—or hadn’t been until after I’d crashed on Iosa.

Who are you, Calla Wren? Vos had asked me yesterday. I’d given him a reply, but the question had swirled in my mind ever since as if I hadn’t found the right answer yet.

Who was I? I didn’t really know. And if I couldn’t answer that, how could I tell Vos whether I’d stay with him?

I sipped my tea and studied the trees beyond the wall as if the answer could be found in the scarlet moss that hung from their branches or the wings of the carrion birds perched near the tree tops, waiting to feast on whatever bits the predators left behind.

I didn’t love Vos, and I was certain he didn’t love me—not yet. He wanted me like he wanted air to breathe because something about me had activated some primal part of him that desired me as his true mate. I didn’t know how or why it had happened, but it had. That fact was as inescapable as this moon’s gravity or that my fighter was nothing but chunks of twisted metal strewn across the ocean floor. There was simply too much evidence for me to reach any other conclusion.

On the other hand, humans didn’t have true mates; that was a fact too. The science was clear. So I couldn’t blame or credit my feelings or desires, or even how Vos’s worshipful care didn’t smother me as I thought it should, on some innate biological drive. And I knew myself well enough to know it wasn’t his cock either that made me want to stay. He was good at what he did, but I’d had other partners with as much skill. The universe was vast and full of beings who wanted to give and enjoy pleasure.

I was healed now, or very nearly so. The scanner had confirmed it when I woke this morning, and more than that, I felt good. I felt better than good. I felt whole. I knew why I was healed, or at least we were pretty damn sure we knew. But why I felt whole was a different story entirely. I had no explanation for that.

Or maybe I did, but I wasn’t ready to accept it. Or maybe I didn’t want to, because deep down I knew I was a scrap born in a shack on Ganai, and scraps didn’t get treasured, adored, or sheltered in the storm. They stood cold and alone in the rain.

I thought of Vos then, how he’d stayed outside in torrential wind and downpours while I lay in his bed too injured to move. Yes, he’d been guarding the house, but that wasn’t why he’d gone outside. He’d tried to put some distance between us and protect himself because I’d shot him down that first day, and he’d ended up standing alone and cold in the rain.

My gut contracted. I let out a little mewl of grief.

I jumped when our Anomuran companion touched my arm.

“Poe?” she asked anxiously, tapping her claws together.

Two of her eyes watched our surroundings while one leaned close as if trying to see the cause of my sorrow. Her antennae waved too, stirring the air between us. How much she could discern from scent, I wasn’t sure, but she bobbed her eyestalks in what I’d learned meant she was troubled.

“Poe?” she asked again, her voice quavering.

“I’m all right,” I assured her, though it wasn’t true and she didn’t need any special senses to tell I was lying. “I was just thinking about something that made me sad. ”

“Poe,” she murmured and caressed my arm very gently with her razor-edged claw.

I held perfectly still. I didn’t fear that she’d hurt me on purpose, but I didn’t want to startle her. I’d seen her snap tree limbs thicker than my arm with that same claw without much effort.

When I smiled at her, she trundled off back to her garden, stopping to pick up and eat enni on the way.

“Calla?”

I turned my head at the sound of Vos’s voice and grimaced at a sharp twinge in my upper back.

He was at my side in a heartbeat, and without spilling a drop from the teapot in his hand. “Pain?” he asked, his tentacles caressing my back and shoulders and plucking at my uniform in worry.

“Just a little. I’m okay.” I rolled my shoulders and neck and the ache faded. “Probably just from sitting and staring into space for too long.” I held up my mug. “Thank you for bringing more tea.”

He filled my cup, set the pot on a little table beside my chair, and crouched so he didn’t tower over me. His tentacles wrapped around me gently. “My pleasure. You like it?”

“Very much.” I was not a habitual tea drinker, but this blend Vos had made himself was wonderful. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Not at the moment.” He touched my cheek, his eyes glowing softly. “I am enjoying this break from the rain. I am very happy to look out the window and see you sitting in the garden for the first time. Soon the rainy season will pass. We will have many more days like this, and sunshine as well.”

I glanced up at the lavender-gray sky. “Again, I’ll believe it when I see it, Vos.”

His mouth turned up at the corners. “I speak only truth to you, my mate. Even on matters as simple as the weather. ”

He was teasing me, but the earnestness in his tone and the way his gaze locked on mine told me he truly wanted me to believe I could trust him and that my trust meant everything to him. Maybe more than anything else, including my body, which came alive at the sensation of his thumb on my cheek and his tentacles wrapping gently around my lower legs.

Giving him my trust would mean everything to me too, if I could allow myself to take a chance on someone besides myself.

“Should I go back inside?” Vos asked. “I do not want you to feel alone.”

“I don’t feel alone,” I assured him. “Poe’s right there, and you’re close by. But yes, I do need more thinking time.”

“All right.” His tentacles released me. I missed their touch immediately. He kissed my forehead gently as he rose. “I will leave the teapot.”

“Thank you.” I touched his hand. “For everything.”

“You are most welcome, my Calla.”

I listened to his footsteps return to the house, but didn’t hear the door close. A glance over my shoulder confirmed he’d left the windows open as well to let the breeze blow through. The sky remained overcast, but no thunder rumbled. The lack of rain was almost unnerving after hearing nothing else for weeks.

I folded my hands around my mug as Poe hummed to herself and tended her garden. Unlike Vos’s planned fruit and vegetable garden, which remained covered and unused until the rainy season ended, Poe’s welcomed the daily deluges. Her garden plants were both her food and attractive to the enni and other small animals she ate.

After the severity of my injuries, my time lying in bed, and the expectation that my recovery would take weeks or months, not days, I’d fully expected to wake today restless and itching for adventure. Instead, I found myself enjoying my first pain-free day sitting in Vos’s single outdoor chair with a cup of tea, lost in thought .

Despite all its dangers, I wanted to explore the swamp, and go with Vos to the ocean. He’d scarcely been there since he’d brought me home. The wistful way he described swimming in its depths told me he missed it, but his worry about my safety overrode even what must be his most innate desires.

Thinking about the swamp and ocean was a way of distracting myself from the real decision I needed to make: whether to journey to the regional capital to relay a message to Outpost 60, where I was now weeks overdue and likely presumed dead.

My squadron—and Epsilon Squad Captain Proos, with the so-punchable face—would know I’d gone missing somewhere between my patrol assignment and the outpost. Proos I didn’t care about, but I didn’t want my squadron mates to think I was marooned somewhere, or captive, or dead. I didn’t want them to grieve for me.

I’d had no comms after the raider attack and hadn’t been able to activate any kind of emergency beacon, so they would have no way of knowing where I’d ended up—or whether my ship and I were now merely atoms drifting through space. Parts of my ship were presumably still up there, but eventually they’d get demolished by large passing ships or burn up in the atmosphere. As long as no one knew about the remains of my fighter on the ocean floor, no one would know I’d ended up here.

I really could make this a new beginning and let the Alliance Defense go on without me, but was that what I wanted? Or would I soon grow tired of Vos and this simple home on Iosa, leaving me restless and yearning for my days as a pilot?

If I didn’t contact Outpost 60 right away, I’d have to explain why I’d waited. Vos’s cock and tentacles were pretty great, but I doubted Proos or his superiors would consider them a good reason to go AWOL for however long it took for me to get restless. That meant either a dishonorable discharge or prison, or both. Certainly no bonus to fund my relocation to a planet where I could live and work until I’d saved enough to travel the galaxy. That had been what I wanted most when I’d enlisted, besides a roof over my head, food in my tummy, and the promise of someday sitting in the cockpit of a long-range fighter.

I had a third option, too. If I did stay here for a while, I could always leave later and do something else. Plenty of opportunities in the cosmos for an experienced pilot. I’d be up for whatever job paid well, as long as it didn’t involve becoming a mercenary raider. I did have principles, after all. Even being a cargo ship pilot didn’t sound too bad, only lonely.

If I contacted Proos, he’d immediately arrange for my rescue and I’d likely never step foot on Iosa again until I finished my enlistment. While on active duty, I had very limited free time.

I had a measure of camaraderie with my squadron. I wanted to help defend the Alliance. I loved the adventure, danger, and prestige of piloting a fighter, and the gig paid well. But very few pilots retired out of the Defense. Most left after their first enlistment to do other things, and many died before they had that chance.

Vos had assured me I could find work here, or we could live comfortably on his savings. I had good savings too, which I was sure I could get my hands on thanks to shady friends who’d transfer the funds and keep my secret for a percentage. And Vos seemed willing to consider leaving Iosa, if that was what we wanted to do. Whether Poe could come with us, I wasn’t sure, but maybe we could keep this home and visit often.

As I thought about leaving my squadron and the Alliance Defense behind, I expected to feel grief and regret. Instead, I found myself looking forward rather than back. Even my flight suit, painstakingly cleaned and mended by Vos, felt less like my identity now and more like a utilitarian piece of clothing.

As much as I still yearned to put my fist in the middle of Proos’s face, when I thought about sending a distress call to Outpost 60, my stomach twisted with nausea.

But when I pictured myself with Vos, I felt…peaceful. And when I thought about him wrapping me in his tentacles and kissing the back of my neck as I slept beside him, warmth and happiness spread from my heart all the way down to my toes.

The more I sat and thought and sipped my tea, the more clear the answer seemed. I had so little to gain if I made that call, and so much to lose. I didn’t want to stand alone in the rain anymore. And I didn’t want Vos out there either. I wanted to be his shelter every bit as much as he was mine, and wherever we were and whatever we were doing, that would make me happy.

“I’m Calla Wren,” I murmured, holding my mug in both hands as I drained the last of the tea. “Nothing special. Just…Calla.”

That didn’t sound like quite the right answer either, but it felt closer to the truth than what I’d said yesterday.

I set my empty cup on the little handmade table next to my chair. “Vos?”

A moment later, his human arms wrapped around my shoulders as his tentacles coiled once more around my legs and the chair. He must have waited at the window, listening for my voice. Of course I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. My beautiful monster. My lover.

Maybe someday, my…mate. Whatever that might mean to someone like me.

“Yes, Calla?” Vos rested his chin on my shoulder. “You have been thinking a long time.”

He’d clearly tried to keep his tone neutral, but I caught the note of hope in his voice. I didn’t have much experience being anyone’s cause for hope. The thought made my stomach flutter as if I’d swallowed Ngaran moths.

“I had a lot to think about.” And still did, but I didn’t make him wait for me to tell him what I’d decided, since he’d already waited several hours. Or a lifetime, depending on how I looked at his situation. “I think I’d like to stay with you. No, I don’t think I want to stay,” I amended. “I want to stay.”

Vos came around the chair and knelt in front of me, his tentacles around my lower legs as he took my hands. His expression was very serious. “My Calla, I will not cage you, and I do not demand any promises you do not want to give.”

“I know you don’t.” I took his face in my hands so I could look into his beautiful glowing eyes. “And I don’t make any promises I don’t intend to keep, so that works out just fine.”

He did something entirely unexpected then: he straightened and bowed his head. That pose must hurt like crazy with all his weight on his knees on the stone terrace.

Something like panic bubbled up inside me. “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Showing my respect,” he said, his gaze on my feet. “Fortusians show their respect to their mates during courtship by kneeling.”

Damn it, I couldn’t tell him not to honor the customs of his homeworld. Even so…

I leaned over and raised his chin so he could see me smiling. “On my homeworld, my people show their respect to their mates during courtship by cooking and eating a good meal together, sharing secrets or gossip, maybe watching some form of entertainment, and then having lots of sex—not necessarily in that order.”

“This is true?” His gaze searched my face, as if he thought I wasn’t being serious. “You do these things rather than kneel?”

I could think of several things I could enjoy that involved him kneeling at my feet, and vice versa. “Well, we can respect both cultures,” I said.

He smiled. “Excellent.”

Suddenly, I found myself wrapped in his tentacles and we were heading for the open door of his house .

“Hey!” I protested. “Why go inside? It’s not raining.”

“You said on your homeworld your people show their mates respect with lots of sex,” Vos reminded me, hurrying through his front room and heading for his bed— our bed.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” I trailed my fingertips over one of his tentacles. It quivered in excitement. “I suppose we can spend a few hours being respectful to one another, then, if that sounds good to you.”

“It most certainly does.” He placed me on the bed as carefully as ever, though my injuries had all but healed. His tentacles ran over my body, tugging at my uniform’s fastenings. “My Calla, what do you want?”

“Your beautiful cock, of course.” I entwined my fingers through his and drew him onto the bed so his body was above mine. “Then rain or not, I want you to take me to the ocean.”