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The smell of something savory wafted through the air, and Dani’s stomach growled. Peeking out from the side of the bulkhead, a mound of shimmering coals had been raked from the fire, the lizard beast roasting over them on a spick, the Korthan slowly turning a handle.
Hedge is hungry, C’hase announced, also watching the scene outside the ship.
Said space rat lay chewing a fishbone near the hole to his den. No need to repair the opening, Dani let the little creature keep his growing hoard.
“He can eat from the rations,” she said, ducking back inside before K’vyn spotted her.
But he already ate all the rations.
What?
A small kitchenette set aft of the cargo hold, rations sorted in containers stacked against the bulkhead.
She opened one, then another, and another, all with holes burrowed from the back, food nearly gone.
“How can a creature so small eat so much?” Dani said to the air, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
With no more rations, could they get enough food to last until a rescue party arrived?
Eating the chickens was out of the question—
Their eggs are pretty tasty, C’hase supplied.
“Yes, they are, but Hedge keeps sneaking off with those too.”
She’d caught the little guy twice today already.
That beast looks tasty, C’hase said next, now sitting at the top of the ramp in full view of the outside world, watching the fire.
***
THE MOGHA SAT ATOP the ramp as K’vyn turned the spick. The tasty aroma would be irresistible to the pup. C’hase took a step down the ramp and stopped, looking back into the dark hold of the freighter, no doubt told to stay by his Alpha.
K’vyn smiled. Watching out of the corner of his eye, the woman peeked around the bulkhead again, doing her best not to look as if she were spying on him.
He was mesmerized. Everything about her was intriguing. The way she moved. The way she walked. The way she smiled. Even the way her clothing hung from her curvy body. Clothing he wanted to rip off, lay her down in the flowers—
Movement at his feet snapped him out of his fantasy and he looked down. The young mogha was sitting on his haunches, the molk perched upon his head, the feathered creature standing beside him.
Grin widening, he knew the mogha couldn’t resist.
The avian clucked, its head jerking sideways, almost mirroring the tilt of the mogha’s head.
“You are a peculiar mogha,” K’vyn said.
The pup jumped to his feet, yapping, tail wagging, antennae twirling.
K’vyn wished he knew what the mogha was saying. C’hase clearly needed a guide, a tutor to let him know the only biped he could communicate with was his alpha. In the absence of parents, the alpha could take on that role, but an ignorant Invader would be no help at all.
Maybe he could find a guide for the pup on Mogha.
Ear comm emitting a loud squelch, he winced. That was why he always conveniently forgot the damn thing. L’iza would not have chosen him as a pilot if he were a cyborg, but cyborg components would have had their advantages, like a direct comm link with his ship instead of an earpiece.
“Since it’s not possible for the human to be your mate,” L’iza’s voice sounded in the comm. “You could grab the mogha now and we can leave.”
Her tone suggested sarcasm with her first statement, but she was serious about the mogha.
K’vyn replied with a retort. “I thought you didn’t want the molk.”
“Oh, I don’t,” she said without hesitation. “We’re leaving that pest here.”
The mogha held the molk in an extended paw, antennae caressing it. He blinked as the molk brushed C’hase’s snout with the feathers on the end of his scaley tail.
“I don’t think the mogha will part with it without a scene,” K’vyn said.
“Chuck that creature off his head and let’s go. Oh, and get rid of the avian too.”
K’vyn looked at the dilapidated freighter, the yearning in his heart intensifying with the thought of leaving Dani behind.
Impatience wound its way through the weak connection he had with his ship.
“Grab the puppy and let’s get out of here,” she said.
Heaviness rested on K’vyn’s shoulders.
“You know I can’t,” he said, turning his attention back to roasting the lizard-beast. “The human is his Alpha.”
Could he convince the human to go with him?
L’iza imitated letting out a breath. “I know. The mogha doesn’t deserve the pain of separation.”
Sand squelched beneath booted feet and he raised his head, heart skipping at the sight of Dani walking towards him through bright orange popsies.
The fire lit her face, her hair shining with the blaze, mirroring the blaze itself. Her stunning beauty ignited a blaze in his soul, directly affecting his lower anatomy. He leaned forward, bending at the hips to hide a growing erection.
“The meal will be ready soon,” he said, nodding at the roasting beast.
Lip curling as she eyed the spick, she said, “I’m only here to get C’hase.”
She rubbed behind the mogha’s ear and C’hase leaned into the touch, antennae caressing her forearm. K’vyn longed for a mogha companion such as this.
“Come, C’hase,” she said.
The mogha barked, watching the beast with hunger in his eyes, licking his lips. He would not go with her.
“I do believe your companion is hungry,” K’vyn said with a smile.
***
THE GRIN ON THE KORTHAN’S face was maddingly triumphant. C’hase would not leave the fire.
Just a taste, he said, the aroma too enticing.
Glaring at the grinning Korthan, Dani sat on a log he apparently dragged out from the tree line.
Hedge jumped from C’hase’s head, scurrying up her arm to perch on her shoulder. Musing that it was probably a better vantage point for the small creature, K’vyn’s voice interrupted her thought.
“You shouldn’t keep a molk,” he said, and she blinked, brow furrowing.
What was a molk?
K’vyn pointed at her shoulder, Hedge letting out a squeak, the Korthan’s measuring gaze intensifying.
“I can eat what Hedge eats,” Dani said. There were some issues with the little creature, but he was great to have around, from a survival standpoint.
“You can eat what I eat,” K’vyn was indignant. “That Korthan-food-is-poison line is propaganda designed to divide our peoples. Those things will crash a ship.” His lip curled. “They’re vermin.”
Dani stiffened, mouth falling open.
“Stars, it did crash your ship,” he said with wide eyes.
Snapping her jaw shut, Dani said, “Shooting at me didn’t help.”
“You were trespassing.”
“Trespassing?” Dani’s voice elevated. “This is neutral territory.”
Hedge jumped from her shoulder to C’hase’s head, then to the ground and K’vyn scooted backwards, raising a leg.
Relieved for the distraction, she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face at the big bad warrior scared of such a tiny creature.
“That ‘vermin’ brings us food,” she said, then gestured at the roasting lizard. “He provided this meal.”
The Korthan barked a laugh.
“He didn’t provide this meal. He wanted something shiny.” He pointed a booted toe at several iridescent disks laying on the ground. “Probably these scales.”
As if to prove his point, Hedge grabbed a scale right at that moment and disappeared into the flower stalks with it.
“It just so happens that a lot of ‘food’ has something shiny on it,” he said, that damnable triumphant grin returned.
“He killed the hellbats,” Dani said next.
The Korthan worked his jaw, silent.
“Ha, don’t have a comeback for that one, do you?”
But there was an element to his knowledge of this creature that unnerved her. The hellhound was a Korthan creature. Was Hedge a Korthan creature too? What were the scientists doing with them in that lab?
If K’vyn’s reactions were anything to go by, there was no love lost for the space rat. But the mogha— The reverence shown to C’hase was humbling.
The stalks rustled as Hedge reappeared, taking his place atop C’hase’s head. He no longer had the scale.
“Hedge belongs to C’hase,” she said. “Remember that next time you call him ‘vermin.’”
“And a molk will crash a ship,” he said again, “Remember that the next time you see one on a space-faring vessel.”
***
MAKING HER WAY TO THE bridge of her freighter, Dani checked the comms again. Still no answer.
Hearing C’hase’s voice outside, her brow furrowed. That was the first time she heard his voice outside of her mind. Was he talking to her?
Maybe we can make her an honorary Korthan, his voice was saying. Stars, was he talking to the Korthan?
Stomach somersaulting, Dani rushed from the bridge, the mogha’s voice carrying through the air.
I know she’s a human and all, but if you don’t look at her, she doesn’t seem like a human.
Dani ran across the cargo bay to the ramp. C’hase sat next to K’vyn at the ever-present fire, yapping away. Could the Korthan understand what the mogha was saying?
I don’t know. What do you think? About making Dani a Korthan? If anyone can do it, it’s you. I like her. I know she likes you. Maybe you can make her a Korthan.
Heart racing, she bounded down the ramp, K’vyn’s attention focused on something in front of him that looked like a small glass box.
That’s okay, you don’t have to answer. Strong, silent type. She likes that.
Blood rushed to her face, head becoming light.
The Korthan turned to the pup, the corner of his mouth turned up as he gazed at the hellhound. Pace slowing, something in her stirred at that affectionate expression.
There was very little savagery about him. Sometimes, though, she could see it. Lurking beneath the surface. He had it in him. This man would fiercely protect what was his.
K’vyn knelt next to C’hase. “I know you’re just talking away, Little Mogha, but I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
The pop of a stick underfoot had their heads snapping up. Crap—
The Korthan’s expression vanished, becoming unreadable.
“You don’t understand what he’s saying?” she said. Filled with relief, tense shoulders relaxed.
He stood up, turning away from her to continue his task.
“You should not be able to understand him either.” His tone was disappointment.
“Why? Because I’m not a Korthan?”
She glanced down at C’hase, his antennae going up. Apparently, the mogha seemed to think she could become a Korthan.
“Exactly because you’re not Korthan,” K’vyn said. “That bond is sacred. How an Invader is blessed with it is sacrilege.”
Dani stiffened. Invader? Sacrilege?
But there was something else underlying that statement.
“Are you jealous?”
“Yes,” he whirled around, admission surprising her.
Expression softening, his shoulders slumped.
“I dearly desire a mogha companion,” he said. “Every Korthan does.”
Dani could almost feel his words, a longing so deep it was tangible. She blinked. Was she detecting his emotions?
“A mogha can only have one master companion its entire life. C’hase is fully bonded to you. Only you can understand him and you’re the only biped he can understand. When he talks, it just sounds like barking to everyone else.”
Dani sat on the log by the fire. No wonder nobody else heard the hellhound speaking at the lab.
“So, what was he saying?” K’vyn asked next, eyebrows raised.
Dani’s jaw felt tight. “Oh, he’s just barking away, like a hellhound does.”
Sitting stock still, K’vyn said, “You shouldn’t call him that. A mogha is the noblest of noble creatures.”
“What? Calling him a hellhound? He doesn’t mind.” Scratching vigorously behind his ears, the mogha’s back leg thumped the ground.
“That’s because he probably doesn’t even know what you’re talking about. He needs a guide.”
Dani blinked. “A what?”
“Someone to teach him what it means to be a mogha.”
As C’hase thumped some more, she ran her fingers through the increasing orange fur along the back of his neck. Why was C’hase’s fur turning orange? It was just about the same color as the flowers all around them.
She could use a guide too—
Bending down, K’vyn plucked an orange blossom at his feet, standing to hand it to her.
“C’hase’s fur will be completely orange. I think his paws and antennae will be white.” He studied the mogha as he rubbed his chin. “Tip of his tail too. Though the feathers will be orange.”
How did he know what she was thinking?
Still holding the flower out to her, Dani took it, fingers brushing against his. Tingling warmth spread through her hand.
K’vyn glanced at his fingers, rubbing them together before dropping his arm. Did he feel that tingling sensation too?
“Moghas have vibrant colorations,” he continued. “Blues, violets, yellows, whites.”
But C’hase was always dark gray. Far from vibrant, she assumed as a predator, he’d need to have a dark color for hunting.
K’vyn leveled a gaze on her. “Their fur turns gray in prolonged captivity.”
She blinked. Was he reading her mind?
But the Korthan’s words filled her with sorrow, weighing down her arms. How long was C’hase in captivity?
Maybe K’vyn could return C’hase to his kind.
The presence of the otherness seemed to swell. It grew by the day. Was it something to do with this Korthan?
Are you reading my mind? She thought at him.
The presence vanished.
***
WIND PICKING UP, K’VYN kept his composure long enough to return to his ship. Once inside, he leaned with his back against the bulkhead, head in hand, still tingling with Dani’s soft touch.
He was reading her mind.
But he swore she was asking questions about C’hase out loud. Was the bond that strong? If he denied it, could he will it to go away? Did he want to?
L’iza appeared in front of him and he dropped his hand, expelling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“A mogha is bonded to a human,” he said. “The mogha is keeping a molk as a pet. The molk has a chicken as a pet. And I seem to be bonded to the human.”
L’iza smirked. “I would say stranger things have happened, but—”
“Literally no stranger things have happened.”
The wind outside raged, niggling concern heavy in his chest. Would Dani have been better protected in his ship?