Page 8 of Sheltered in the Storm (The Fortusian Mates # 1)

CHAPTER 7

CALLA

I woke up alone.

Vos had made me another blanket nest, this time banked on both sides with more folded blankets so I couldn’t roll over in my sleep and hurt myself. I thought at first he might be lying close to the window again and simply giving me space, but when I managed to turn onto my back, I found the bed empty.

I lay still and listened for signs that he’d gotten up to make himself food or do something in another room. The only sound in the house was the heavy rain on the roof and windows. I couldn’t see him in the kitchen or in the living area.

Vos’s absence was as profound of a feeling as his presence had been the first time I woke in this bed with his tentacles around me and his calm, kind voice telling me not to move because I’d been badly hurt. I didn’t like this feeling of loneliness. I had no business feeling abandoned, but that was how I felt nonetheless.

Then I got angry at myself.

Damn it, I woke alone in my bunk at the end of every single sleep shift on the outpost. I shared my quarters with another pilot and we weren’t lovers. If ever one of us needed privacy for intimate activities, we let the other know to stay clear. I tended to meet lovers in their own quarters or occasionally at one of the outpost’s hotels, where pilots and passengers from passing ships stayed aboard the outpost for a few days or a week. I told them my bunk was too small and squeaked, but that wasn’t true. Well, it did squeak, but that wasn’t the real reason. I preferred to sleep alone. Less chance of developing emotional attachments that just led to hurt.

So why in the name of all the gods above and below did I miss waking up next to Vos?

My concussion, I decided. I was a pile of broken bones, cuts, and bruises wrapped in blankets on an ocean moon in a house surrounded by venomous reptiles and more serpents than I cared to think about. Of course I’d find even a stranger comforting in this situation.

No, you wouldn’t—you never have before , my brain tried to argue, but I ignored it. It was muddled by a concussion and didn’t know what it was talking about.

I was arguing with my own brain. I was a mess in every way.

Plus, Vos had every reason to think I didn’t want to be held while I slept. Hadn’t I argued with him about it and demanded explanations like an inquisitor at a trial? If the landing crew on Outpost 60 gave me as many mixed signals as I’d given Vos, I would end up landing my fighter in the mess hall instead of the hangar.

Not that I had a fighter anymore. That hurt too, though not as much as my chest and stomach.

As if on cue, my stomach growled very loudly. When had I last eaten? I had no clue. Without Vos, I was as helpless as a newly hatched Hardanian lava squid.

I opened my mouth to call out just as an enormous creature with a moss-covered shell, three eyes on long stalks, six triple- jointed legs, and pincher-tipped arms appeared in the bedroom doorway. At the moment, the pinchers were clasped as if my visitor was fretting.

“Poe?” she asked anxiously.

“Um, hi.” I struggled in vain to rise up on my elbows before pain forced me to sink back into my pillow. “You must be Poe.”

“Poe,” the creature said agreeably. “Poe?”

“Poe,” I repeated. “I’m Calla.”

“Poe.” The Anomuran female entered the bedroom cautiously. “Poe?”

The latter was unmistakably a question, and I got the feeling this was the limit of her vocabulary.

“Where is Vos?” I asked.

She clacked her pinchers together. Her eyestalks leaned toward the window. “Poe.” Her tone was sad.

Outside, then. In the pouring rain. If Poe was inside, maybe Vos was on guard duty. I hoped he was steering clear of serpents and reptiles.

I rubbed my grumbly tummy. “I’m hungry.”

“Poe,” the Anomuran said, waving her arms. She disappeared back into the other room.

I sighed. She’d probably bring me back a tree branch. Or a chair. Why hadn’t Vos outfitted her with a translator? Even with her limited vocabulary, a translator would probably help make communication easier.

Poe startled me when she returned carrying a tray. She set it at the foot of the bed and approached with arms and pinchers outstretched. “Poe,” she said briskly.

I shied away. “Um, Poe? No offense, but I don’t think I want you to grab me with those.”

She waved her arms. “Poe.” That time she sounded disgruntled.

I didn’t know anything about Anomurans, but I sure as hells didn’t want to make one angry. Those pinchers looked capable of cutting off one of my limbs.

“Okay,” I said uneasily. “You’re the boss. Well, Vos is probably the boss, but you’re the boss’s companion. Just please don’t pinch me.”

“Poe,” she said. And that was definitely a reproach.

With surprising dexterity, strength, and gentleness, Poe raised my torso with one arm and slid several pillows and blankets under my head and back so I was upright enough to eat.

“I apologize, Poe,” I said when she finished. “You are an excellent helper.”

“Poe,” she said, tapping her pinchers together. Maybe that meant she was happy. At least she didn’t seem angry at me anymore.

The tray contained a bowl of soup that was mainly broth, with some vegetables and meat. Next to it was a slice of bread and a cup of water.

As hungry as I was, I eyed the soup. How badly did I really want to know what was in it?

“Kaory,” Vos said from the doorway.

I jumped. My movement caused pain to flare in my abdomen and tipped the glass of water on the tray.

Vos moved so quickly that before I could react, he’d crossed the distance between the doorway and the bed, caught the cup, and set it upright. Not even a drop had spilled. Wow.

And then he stepped back from the bed, his expression a hard mask.

“Kaory is bland but easy to digest,” he said. “As are the vegetables and broth. I used only light seasoning. Ideal for a sensitive, healing digestive system. Bread may be less ideal, but you need grains and carbohydrates as well. We will monitor how your body reacts to the bread, and if it does not cause discomfort, you may have more. And of course you must drink water. It is filtered and safe. ”

Not one word had the slightest bit of inflection or emotion. I’d interacted with primitive computers with more emotion in their voice.

My last memory before falling asleep was of lying wrapped in a blanket, held gently but firmly by his tentacles, as he discussed the local serpentine residents. His voice was full of a smile even as he talked about creatures neither of us liked. My head had rested on his muscular shoulder. I’d felt as close to comfortable and secure as I had in a very long time, despite the situation and all my aches and pains.

He’d called me his mate. And now I might have been a stranger.

Which is what I am , I reminded myself before my emotions got carried away. We’d spent a few days under the same roof, but only spoken for a few hours. Yes, he’d cared for me and our first and only conversation had become emotionally intimate in some ways, but I’d made it clear I couldn’t stay here with him. So maybe he’d come accept that, or maybe he’d realized his feelings were attraction rather than a physiological imperative.

Either way, it was a relief. It was , I told myself sternly, even if some bruised corner of my heart hadn’t quite gotten the message yet.

I tried to keep my thoughts off my face and gave him the kind of smile I would have given him if none of that earlier conversation had happened. “Thank you. It smells delicious.”

If he could tell that was a bit of a fib, he didn’t let on. “If you want more soup, just let Poe know. There is a pot on the stove. She will provide as much water as you need.”

I wanted to know if he’d sit with me while I ate, but I figured if he wanted to, he would have offered rather than suggest I speak to Poe if I needed anything.

He turned on his heel and went into the living area, out of my sight .

Well, okay then. Maybe he just didn’t want to be in the same room as me unless he had to.

It was for the best. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. We’d find a way to be at least friendly. I’d seen how warm and caring he really was under that hard mask. Things were just…very complicated right now.

At least thinking through all that distracted from how much my body hurt, but my tummy growled again to remind me to pick up my spoon and sample reptile and vegetable soup and then take a bite of fresh-baked bread.

Both were delicious, but my stomach didn’t stop hurting even when I was full. I recalled that lengthy list of injuries on the scanner. I’d be hurting for a long time. I’d been wounded enough times to know the road to recovery often presented as much if not more pain than the initial injury. So I had that to look forward to. Another reason to hope Vos and I could forge some kind of friendship.

I could probably face the coming weeks and months alone if I had to, but I didn’t really want to.

Nothing had to be figured out today but the necessities and what I could do to start my recovery within the limitations of my body. I had a mission, and the first phase of my mission was to get myself strong and healed enough to get up out of this bed on my own.

In the meantime…

“Poe, can you ask Vos to help me to the bathroom?” I asked the Anomuran as she picked up my tray.

“Poe,” she said, then paused and leaned closer. Two of her eyestalks swivled toward the other room, while one stayed focused on me. “Poe,” she murmured, conspiratorially and—I might be losing my mind here—almost suggestively.

I cursed that my translator had gone to the bottom of the ocean when Vos blew up what was left of my fighter, because I really wanted to know what Poe had just said .

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” I whispered.

“Poe,” she whispered back, her eyestalks bobbing.

I’d been around the galaxy and had some wild adventures, but I’d never had a giant alien hermit crab try to fix me up with a broody cephalopod man.

I chuckled—and immediately regretted it when pain lanced through my abdomen. My hands flew to press against my stomach and I couldn’t muffle my gasp.

Once again, Vos appeared in the bedroom doorway as if by magic. His expression remained clinical, but I caught a flash of worry and anger in his eyes. “Calla? Have you hurt yourself?”

My name didn’t sound like a coo when he said it, but neither was it as impersonal as when he’d talked about the food.

“No, I just moved in a way I shouldn’t have.” I grimaced and rubbed my stomach gingerly. “But since you’re here, mind taking me to the bathroom?”

Maybe Poe could have managed it…somehow…but Vos’s tentacles looked ever so much more comfortable than her thin arms and those pinchers.

I looked forward to the day I could take myself to the bathroom on my own two legs. Until then, I had to rely on help, and I had to be objective and logical—as logical as Vos was being. Nothing personal about it.

Nothing personal about it , I repeated in my head as he approached and ever-so-gently scooped me and my blanket up with his tentacles. Nothing at all.