Ka'Cit's Haven: A Sci-fi Alien Romance (Riv's Sanctuary Book 3), A.G. Wilde [surface ebook reader TXT] 📗

little black dot in the middle of her cheek that moved whenever she spoke or smiled.

Phek. She was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in all his revolutions.

She was ta’ii from the first moment he’d seen her. A “sweet, flower” and that’s exactly what she looked like.

Delicate, small, and sweet.

She leaned back, closed her eyes, and her head tilted back a little.

She had a small nose, just as small but full lips, and her chin had a little indentation in the middle that made his mouth twitch at the corners.

Cute.

He almost choked on that thought.

The phek?

The last thing he’d called cute was a Taraxian slave master who’d begged for its life as his blade had flirted with its throat.

And it had been “cute” only because its pleas were the last words that left its lips.

His brow furrowed a bit as he watched Nee-ya.

But she was cute.

Cute but also so small and helpless.

Vulnerable.

Just how had she gotten away from Herza and triggered the lockdown? She must have been guarded. Herza was cheap and opportunistic, but she was no fool.

Nee-ya said something that he didn’t catch and Ka’Cit blinked.

He’d spoken out loud?

One look at his expression and she giggled—a sound that tickled his ears in a most unexpected way—and then she did a motion with her hand as if she was throwing something.

“Ai yoozed ah peb-broo.”

Ka’Cit frowned. He didn’t quite understand what she was trying to tell him.

She shook her head and settled back down.

“How?” he repeated. “How did you get away?”

She laughed a little again then shook her head once more.

Then it seemed as if she decided to tell him and she got up on her knees.

She looked at him pointedly and he assumed she was telling him to pay attention.

He couldn’t help but lean forward a little. This was…fascinating.

She began moving, her arms extended and grasping the air in front of her.

She moved on the spot in a circle as if she was enclosed. Her brows were knitted and she put an exaggerated look of trepidation on her face.

“You were locked up?”

She glanced his way and nodded ecstatically.

“Wow, yoo got it fursst trahy. Oh-kay. Koool.”

She then grabbed the hood of her cloak and put it over her head. Glancing at him, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head from side to side while mumbling words underneath her breath.

Ka’Cit chuckled. He couldn’t help it.

The Niftrills.

That had to be the Niftrills.

She glanced at him, her eyes holding a question.

“Niftrills?”

She nodded again and smiled.

He liked this game.

It seemed she liked it too but then her face changed and she glanced at him again, this time with a look he couldn’t read in her brown gaze.

She made a motion as if something was growing from her pelvis, then she stopped and frowned, glanced at him again, then shook her head.

“Uhm, neh-ver-mayned dat wohn”

Ka’Cit frowned as he watched her.

“What was that you just showed me?”

She shook her head again and waved her hand at him as if he should forget about it.

Ka’Cit’s humor died on his lips.

The corner of his eye twitched a little as he stared at her.

“Did they—”

Before he could finish his question, she shook her head but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

A sigh made her shoulders rise and fall as she pointed to herself.

“You?”

She nodded then pointed to her shoe.

She had to crouch a little as she stood and hopped on one foot.

“You hurt your foot?”

She shook her head then wrinkled her nose.

There was a bulge in his pocket and she pointed at it.

It was another of the smoke canisters and he took it out and handed it to her.

Ka’Cit blinked as he watched her put the canister underneath her foot. She pointed at it and said “ow ow.”

He studied her for a moment.

“Something under your foot?”

Her eyes lit up and she jerked her chin.

Then she took the canister out and pretended to throw it.

He was a bit lost now, but all he could think about was what she’d shown him before.

He knew what she’d been trying to tell him before she changed her mind…

What she’d almost said…

“Did they…” His throat closed up. Had he been too late?

He hadn’t considered…

Phek.

“Did they force you?” The growl that came from his throat startled her, he could see. She jerked a bit and her gaze focused on his fangs, but it was too late to hold back his reaction.

Ka’Cit closed his eyes for a bit, forcing himself to look away from her.

“Did they force you?”

There was silence in the nook.

“Answer me.”

“Noh.”

That sounded like a negative answer. His gaze met hers again and he studied her.

Her body language said she wasn’t lying.

Ka’Cit stretched his neck a little and rolled his shoulders.

There was tension there.

If those Niftrills had…

Phek.

He hadn’t been planning to leave any bodies behind, but if they had forced her…

Well, let’s just say Herza would have more than cargo to dispose of.

Wiping a hand across his face, he shook the thoughts from his mind.

Nee-ya was fine.

She hadn’t been hurt.

She was okay.

“Yohr hahnnd.” She crawled on all fours and moved closer to him, a frown on her brow.

Without hesitating, she took his hand in hers and turned it over on her palm.

“Waht hahp-end? Yohr hahnd?”

Her gaze was studying his, and it was filled with such concern he was momentarily taken aback.

But he couldn’t understand what she was asking.

“Yohr hahnnd!” She pressed, jerking his hand in hers.

He looked down then and saw the bruises on his knuckles.

Oh.

That.

He didn’t remember receiving those.

“It’s nothing.”

She made a sound like air moving between her teeth and gave him an annoyed look.

“What?” What had he done?

She shook her head then and knelt beside him as she reached for the inside of her cloak.

Without warning, she brought the garment to her mouth and ripped a piece of it.

“What are you doing?”

His eyes were wide now as he watched her.

She placed his hand on her thigh as she ripped another piece of cloth and began pressing it against the bruise.

She was…patching him up? With her own garments?

“You don’t have to do