My jaw drops. “What? No! I just—you look different from human men, and—”
“Ah,” he says, understanding dawning across his face. “Your males must not have a mating pouch.”
“A… mating pouch?” I ask. “What do you mean?”
He gestures to the long slit between his thighs. “My stav does not extend from my mating pouch until I am ready to mate. It is this way for the males of my species, but I know there are many species’ males whose stav protrudes at all times.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Human men, uh… they protrude all the time. No pouch.”
“Do not worry. My stav will emerge when you are ready to mate.”
I send him a nervous smile. I’m curious what exactly his stav looks like because, depending upon what’s inside his pouch, there’s no guarantee we’d even fit together. But I know asking more questions might give him false hope, so I decide to wait on that particular concern. “Thanks. But—as I said—I might never be ready.”
His expression falls.
For a second, guilt fills me.
I understand how it feels to yearn for something only to be disappointed. Yet he doesn't regard me with anger or uncertainty, but with devotion and hope for a brighter future… with me.
Instead of arguing that we’re fated like he did earlier, he drops the conversation and gestures toward the entrance. “Allow me to show you around.”
I’m excited to explore this place. All I remember of Earth is a tiny apartment in an overcrowded, smog-filled city with far more cement than trees or vegetation. This island is everything I used to read about ancient Earth and more. I always dreamed of staying in a real forest cabin.
I smile up at him. “All right.”
He presses his palm to a panel next to the large, seamless metal door, which slides open. “Place your palm next to mine,” he instructs, and when I do, a green light flashes around my imprint. He grins. “The house is now coded to recognize you. You may come and go as you please.”
That would be more comforting if we weren’t on a floating island. It’s not like I can go anywhere, even if I leave the house. However, I appreciate his attempt to make me more comfortable. He swore I’d never be put in a cage again; this is his way of showing me that his word is good.
When we enter, my jaw drops. An enormous, gray stone fireplace takes up almost the entire wall. A row of floor-to-ceiling windows with a sliding glass door opens into a garden at the back of the house. There are dozens of flowering rose-like pink-and-purple plants, the same variety as the ones in the courtyard, and a stream winding through the backyard. The scene is inviting, as if beckoning us outside.
The spacious living area opens into what I assume is a kitchen, though I don’t recognize anything beyond the typical countertop space; the appliances are all strange to me. Plush, floating sofas covered in rich gray-and-white fabric blend seamlessly with the dark stone floor and the massive stacked logs that make up the walls. This entire space feels both rustic and luxurious at the same time. A stack of wood lies in the hearth, making me excited at the mere thought of lighting a fire.
Massive gray wood beams span the ceiling. Off to the side, I notice a wide staircase that ascends to the second level.
He leads me up the stairs to find that the entire second floor seems to be one huge bedroom. A large four-poster bed with sheer green panels floats near the far wall. A table and chairs sit in the corner beside another fireplace. Despite all the intricately carved furnishings, my attention is drawn to the expansive balcony outside a set of sliding glass doors. It overlooks the garden, and from this vantage point, I’m able to appreciate the breathtaking beauty of the landscape below.
“Is there a bathroom?” I ask because that’s the only amenity I haven’t seen so far.
“Through those doors.” He gestures to the far wall.
As soon as he opens them, I gasp. The space is palatial, to say the least. A large sunken tub in the center of the floor looks inviting, as does the shower encircled by a clear, rounded glass wall. However, I don’t see a sink or a toilet.
“Where is the—” I start to ask but trail off as Raidyn pushes a glowing panel near the door. A sink slides out from one wall and what I’m assuming is a toilet slides out from the other.
I turn to him. “I’d like to get cleaned up.”
“Would you like help bathing?”
My mouth drifts open, but I quickly snap it shut. Judging by the earnest expression on his face, he isn’t flirting—he’s trying to take care of me. “No, that’s all right. I think I can manage by myself.”
“But it is a male’s duty to attend to his mate,” he protests. “Every Drakarian male does this for his female.”
“We’re not mates, though,” I gently remind him.
His expression dims, and he retreats into the bedroom. “If you need me, I will be out here.”
I hate the sadness in his face every time I remind him I haven’t accepted our bond. Whereas he’s so utterly convinced that he already refers to me as his mate.
“Thanks,” I reply as the door slides shut between us.
He truly is a sweet, handsome man, if I’m being honest with myself. But I’m still skeptical about his fated-mate claim. We only just met, and that was because he abducted me.
Well, technically he saved me, but I didn’t know his intent at the time.
And now, here I am, developing feelings for him. I don’t know what to do—or even what to think. I wish Lilliana were here so I could talk to her. She’s always the first person with whom I share my problems.
I
