His dark eyes burn into mine and I glower right back. I’ve never felt such a possessive need to protect in my entire life. Not with my mother. Not with the other mates or humans. Not even with the mortlings.
But Willow?
I will protect her until my last breath.
It’s not that I think Draven would ever hurt her. Willow is his mate’s daughter. By hurting Willow, he’d be hurting Molly. But it’s the unknown that makes this need to protect flare hot and bright inside of me. If it’s not Draven, it’s a predator. If it’s not a predator, it’s another mort. Whatever the perceived threat, I know I will always have the urge to decimate anything that even thinks of hurting her.
I’d been amused by Hadrian’s instant obsession with Lyric. Confused even. Maybe a little jealous. But now I understand it. I understand all of them. It’s more than feeling her warmth around my cock or hearing her mewls of pleasure.
It’s everything.
It’s her.
All her. Only her. Always her.
We’re not a “space fling.”
We’re a forever.
7
Willow
“Are there women at the prison?” I overhear the one I think they call Oz ask Theron as they load the ship with supplies. I’ve sequestered myself in my room for the time being, but the sound carries on in the small space of the Mayvina, and the walls are thin.
“Breccan has already told you there are,” Theron responds, his tone impatient.
“Are they all as pretty as Willow?” I can’t tell because I’m hiding underneath my window like a peeping Tom, but I’m pretty sure Oz is teasing. I wait with a catch in my chest for Theron to brush off his comment with a flippant one of his own.
Instead, he says, “None of them are as pretty as Willow. What does Calix say? She’s as radiant as a dizmonyx.”
“I thought you said you two were only having a morts-with-benefits mating. Whatever that means. You’re talking about her like she’s your mate.”
“Shut your rekking nog,” Theron bites out. “Let’s focus on getting the gear on the ship.”
“Ah, so you want to be her mate, but she has reservations. I never thought I’d see the day. The great and mighty Theron has met a challenge he can’t best.”
“It’s not about the challenge,” Theron says.
“Sure it’s not,” Oz says with a snort.
“It’s not.”
They’re quiet for a moment, the silence punctuated by the hum of the ship and the occasional thunk of packages being loaded. Could Oz be right? Is Theron only with me because I’m a challenge? I don’t think so, but it does sound like him. Perhaps it’s a good thing Avrell will be riding with us for the next four days, to give us some space, give me some space to figure out what the hell I’m doing with myself.
I’ve been searching for my mother for so long, now that I’ve finally found her, I feel as though I have no purpose. I’m a piece of dandelion fluff floating on the wind, aimless. Molly—Mom—had been so different from what I remembered as a little girl. I can’t help but think about how different we both are.
She’s still your mother.
In truth, we are more like sisters now in age than mother and daughter. I don’t know why I expected her to be the same, but I can’t help but mourn the loss of the relationship we used to have. While she was frozen, waiting for Exilium to be built, I grew up. Changed. She’s not the mother I remember, but I’m also not the daughter she left behind.
I’m excited to explore what our relationship will be like now and it may not be what we had when I was a child, but at least it will be something. There are a lot of children on Earth II whose parents were sentenced to other prison planets who never got to see their parents again. I should count myself lucky.
“So how many females are at the prison?” Oz says, breaking the silence—and my brooding.
“Is that all you care about?” Theron asks.
“A family? Morts of my own? Happiness? Isn’t that what you want, too?”
Theron sighs heavily. “It’s not a large facility, perhaps double the size of this one. From what Grace has told us, it was built as a testing site, the first of many, so there are only twenty or so females there now. Some were killed in the battle with the Kevin-guards, some were taken by The Rades.”
“Twenty,” Oz breathes. “That’s more than we have morts. Do you think perhaps they’d be interested in a relationship like Say and Jareth and Grace, except with two females and me?”
“You think you can handle two females?” Theron asks with a deep, rumbling laugh that I feel down to my bones. “I don’t think you understand what the aliens are like at all. You’ll be lucky if you can tame one of them.”