AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I had a conversation with the Deadhead scientist about the specifics of what options we have to get you ready to walk the surface.”
I wince. “So this random guy is somewhat aware of our sex life? Or the lack thereof?”
“While I’ve learned to be more respectful of Deadheads since coming into contact with them, I assure you that they don’t care at all about our personal life.”
“Fine. And did he have any advice that can help us?”
“You were willing to do more than I’m comfortable with,” he starts. “So I hope you won’t take offense when I tell you what was suggested to me.”
Why is he making it sound ominous?
“What is it?”
“I must reach the amma’ka state to transfer kali to your body. That means I will become mating aggressive. The suggestion would be that I am bound, unable to touch you or chase you… But all you would need to endure would be my tongue on your cunt. And if you were uncomfortable, you could leave me there.”
I don’t know which of our proposed options is more ridiculous in nature—the one where he jerks off alone until I show up to take it like some handmaiden from a post-apocalyptic religious cult, or the one where he’s tied up like an animal with my ass on his face until I get scared and abandon him there. The thought of leaving him in a vulnerable state only for one of his own guards to come retrieve him…? No, I don’t think I’d let myself abandon him. Knowing myself, I’d ignore my fear and suffer through it until I could let him up myself.
“What makes you think one of these options is better than the other? The solution you’re proposing isn’t dissimilar to what you already rejected.”
He scoffs. “A bit of foreplay versus spilling my seed inside you? Being the one to give you pleasure rather than take it? I think that’s quite a difference.”
“Most importantly,” he says, leaning forward, “you’ll be in control, and I’ll be restrained.”
“The thought of tying you up…” I frown. “Well, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Me? Uncomfortable? With my mate sitting on my mouth? Impossible!”
“Let me think about it,” I say, hiding the heat rising to my cheeks by turning my attention to Nisi. She’s been watching us converse with interest, as if she’s watching a volleyball match. I give her some loving scratches on her head.
“Of course,” Mak agrees. “And if you conclude that none of it meets your comfort level, then we will simply wait until the scientist has finished the injectable he told me he was working on. I’m sending him what support I can, in the hopes he can complete it quickly.”
“It sounds like a good opportunity to make things between you and the Deadheads cordial,” I say. “It might feel strange, but it’s better to build bonds with them now. We’ll be sharing this planet with them for a long time.”
“It is. In fact, I’m torn by just how swayed I am to feel for them. There is anger among my people… Many criticize my decision to allow Pakka to rule as if he’s one of us and call himself a Ka’lakka. These critics would prefer the Deadheads either fall under my rule or leave the planet.”
I’ve learned plenty about the ugly history between Deadhead and Deviant. When the planet was ruled by a military power and populated only by warriors, they wanted nothing more than to erase all evidence of their past. Mak’s people, who they called Deviants, survived in hiding. The military leaders hunted them, considering them a threat to Deadhead dedication to hormone suppression and eradicating all emotion from their culture. I know they were responsible for the death of Mak’s parents, and for the death of many other Kar’Kali.
“I used to think of my decision to trust them as a leap of faith, and as putting my head before my heart. After all, it would be unethical to reject them. It would be illogical to turn away the few people who have necessary information about the current state of the planet. It was practical, nothing less nothing more. But now… I find it’s more than that. Every body I saw in the streets today was going about the life that they were destined to lead. Sure, if they laid eyes on me before their hideous fate, they would’ve struck me down without thinking. Given the chance, any one of those corpses would’ve clamored to be the one who killed the king of Deviants.”
The more he talks about it, the more his controlled expression slips. It gives way to something between despair and exhaustion.
“Why should I feel guilty, taking it all back from them as a result of this—this evil thing, this genocide? They stole everything from me, stole my family, almost stole my life too. If what happened to them happened to me and mine, they would host a celebration. Isn’t that funny? And here I am, mourning them like I didn’t grow up cursing every soldier in their ranks, cursing them all to a horrible death…”
This is all so heavy that I can hardly summon a helpful or comforting word. But he goes on, following this dark train of thought straight off the tracks.
“My wishes came true, see? I wished them all dead in my loneliest childhood fantasies. And here it is, laid out for me to witness. And I feel nothing but sickness and guilt.”
I grasp his hand.
It surprises him to silence as I squeeze it.
“Hey,” I whisper, my eyes already welling up. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he asks.
“Don’t beat yourself up like this,” I say. “You’re a good man. That’s why you feel that way. Because you have a good heart.”
“Interesting conclusion,” he mutters.
