The urge to give her great reverence comes over me so strongly, that the words feel like they're banging against my shaved teeth to get out.
Despite this, I keep my expression neutral and my side of the mate bond numb as I ask, “How am I supposed to feed myself shackled as I am.”
She sets down the pot and pulls a large spoon with a napkin wrapped around it out of her pocket.
“Nurse Ola reporting for duty!” she declares. “This is going to take a while, but that’s okay…”
She climbs onto the bed with the stew pot and grabs a remote control from the nearby table after settling it on her lap. “I set the wall screen to non-holo while you were sleeping, so we can watch a documentary while you eat.”
For some reason, the thought of Ola feeding me by hand isn’t entirely distasteful. But… “I abhor the flashing pictures you mutated primates refer to as entertainment.”
“Ugh face emoji. Can’t say I’m happy to hear you slurring all over wolves again. Can’t you just cancel all the name-calling, like Other You?”
I don’t reply to that question. Given my situation and my ultimate plan, it would be incredibly dangerous, not to mention stupid to answer that question.
Luckily, Ola does not seem to require answer. “Anyway, Other You thought you hated entertainments, too. Not going to lie, I’m pretty sure you were just gritting your teeth or thinking about sex during the action movies I like. But you’ve got some kind of love for heckling documentaries.”
“Heckling documentaries?” I repeat.
“You know, like hate-watching and calling out all the bullshit. You’ll see. I found one about the Gladiators of Ancient Rome. So I’m pretty sure you’re going to love this, considering you used to keep a bunch around just to entertain at dinner parties. But here, eat.”
It is surprising I do not choke on the spoon of stew she shoves into my mouth. It tastes just as good as it smelled. Rich and chock full of meat. But the delicious stew cannot compensate for all of the alarming things she just told me. About myself.
While I’m only acquainted with the she-wolf I’d read about in reports and gleaned from god speaking the minds of her peers, she seems to know me… intimately. There was the comment about sex, not to mention her expert manipulation of my seeders the previous day. She’s made me a dish that instantly becomes my favorite meal within a few bites. And as it turns out, she’s entirely correct about my heretofore unknown passion for heckling documentaries.
“Come now, gladiators weren’t that tall,” I find myself declaring to the wall screen after only a few minutes. “A few of the Jewish ones nicknamed me Goliath because I dwarfed them in every way!”
“See, I told you,” she says, her voice smug, as she offers me another bite.
No, being fed by Ola is not distasteful at all.
I do not like many things, but I like the way she smiles before pushing the spoon into my mouth, somehow seeming both shy and sly. I also like how she laughs and eggs me on when I point out an inconsistency in the portrayal of gladiators.
After I’ve eaten all the meat in the stew, she drops the spoon into the large pot and set it aside on the floor. “I know you don’t like the soup part, so we’ll stop here.”
She knows me quite well. I watch her as she picks up the second empty pot and disappears through a door that must lead to a bathroom. Perhaps better than I know myself.
Which is why I’m so alarmed when she comes back out with the second pot now filled with soapy water…and one of the Mediterranean sponges I brought with me from Greece.
But how had she come upon my personal collection? And furthermore…
“What are you doing?” All previous thoughts blank away when she dips the sponge into the soapy water and extends it toward my body.
“Giving you a sponge bath like you did to me between heat sessions,” she answers, her voice matter-of-fact as she runs the sponge over my bare chest. “I’ve also got a bedpan waiting outside the room on standby if you need it.”
“No, I do not need it,” I answer, raising my eyes from the sight of her washing the dry seed from my scaled belly. My tone is testy, but I’m grateful for the distraction. Otherwise, the memory of how that mess was created would have my male works descending all over again. “Unlike your poorly designed species, drakkon can store our liquid and solid waste until a time when it is convenient to eliminate.”
“Okay, I’m translating that as don’t bother with a bedpan because you can hold it for a freakishly long time. Got it. Thanks for letting me know. This sponge bath is crazy hot, but I was not looking forward to paying you that kind of reverence.”