The thought of hurting her makes my guts twist.
“You overheard what Galen and I were talking about?”
She swallows and nods. “I hear everything. Or at least I have for several days. I was pretending to sleep because I was scared.”
I set my contraption down to take her tiny hand in my greasy, calloused ones that are littered with cuts from the zuta-metal constantly snagging my skin. “So you know the humans are adored here then? That we’d never hurt you, Whisper?”
“I’m Quinn,” she says. “And from what I’ve gathered, you guys are a lot nicer than the ones we came from.”
I don’t let go of her hand that feels right in my grasp. She’s not my mate, but she’s my something. I’ve felt it for a while now, drawn to the medical bay where she sleeps—or in her case, has been pretending for several solars.
“Ozias,” I tell her. “Oz for short. We are not Kevins. We are Kevin killers.”
She scrunches her nose up in confusion. Rekk if my cock doesn’t react. “Kevins?”
“Julie calls them guards. Aria calls them rapists. Zoe calls them assholes. Molly calls them pigs.”
“Ahh, human men.”
“Correct, mat—” I cut my word off mid-sentence. I almost called her mate. I’m in serious trouble. “Quinn.”
“Are they coming for us?” she whispers, giving life to the name I gave her.
I give her hand a small squeeze. “They are, but we’ll be rekking ready for them.” I help her sit up, admiring the dark brown ringlets of her hair that bounce from the movement. “Tell me, sleepy alien, what do you know about the sun?”
A slow smile curves her plump lips up. My cock is hard in my minnasuit as I imagine horribly inappropriate things to do with her mouth—ideas that rekking Jareth implanted in my nog.
“Only everything,” she breathes. “Well, space too. Oh, and arachnids. I love arachnids.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you a scientist like Grace?”
She shakes her head, her curls bouncing wildly. “Better.”
Of course my mate would be better than Jareth’s and Sawyer’s. I can’t wait to rub that one in Jareth’s ugly face.
Wait…not my mate.
“Better?”
“I’m a librarian.”
I don’t know what a librarian is, but the way she says the word in a breathless whisper has a power over me I cannot describe.
“Definitely better,” I agree, my voice husky. “Let’s go build a thermablaster and save the world, Whisper.”
She stares at me as if I’m the most interesting thing she’s ever seen in her life. It makes me want to bare my double fangs at her to show her mine are the sharpest of any mort, even Jareth’s. Males do the strangest things for their mates.
Not my mate.
“Let’s do it, Oz.”
Oh, we’re going to do it.
That and a lot more things.
Even if all we have are thirteen measly solars.
I’m a clever mort. I can do a lot in thirteen solars.
A whole rekking lot.
Keep reading with the next installment…
THE DETERMINED HERO!