Page 10 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
I must have nodded because before I knew it, Raz had pulled me into his dwelling and firmly closed the door behind him. The next minute I was seated at his table with a cool drink in front of me to accompany the fresh cold sweat breaking out behind my blue-furred knees.
Around Raz and the archbuilder, I was prey. Nothing more than a hunted bush-tailed montie. Only, with the archbuilder, my desire to submit was so amplified that eye contact was as much of a problem as my voice. I could barely eke out a three-word sentence. My escape from the archbuilder had left me fumbling for a reason to escape this dinner. Alpha males would be my demise,but a bully I could deal with. And Raz was a bully. The archbuilder though… He was something else altogether.
I had to avoid touching the archbuilder at all costs.
Raz plunked a dish down in front of me. Now that I was out of the archbuilder’s presence and Raz’s scaly grasp, I could focus a little. The honey-scented flowers in the center of his table filled my nose, mixing with the savory smell of herbed meat. The tiny graneth flowerheads drooped over a tall container and bounced when the table jostled, dusting it in pollen. Covered with a blue cloth, the table was the same color as me.
I gulped. The dishes were patterned with stars, and the tart and sweet hiscus I favored filled fluted glasses. My tail swished over Raz’s polished floors. Not a speck of pink dust lingered anywhere except where it fell in small clumps off the ankles of my jumpsuit. Warta, the stringed instruments Boola played, thrummed from a speaker in the background.
This is not a neighborly meal.
“How was-s-s your meeting with the archbuilder?” Raz asked tightly.
My accommodations proved to be a sticky topic. “G-ood.” My voice wavered. “We meet again in two days.” I sipped my hiscus, the coolness of the glass causing condensation on the outside, wetting the skin on my palms. The rigid set of my shoulders loosened when I filled my fancy glass a second time. Raz’s house smelled of roasting meat, and my stomach rumbled.
“Ah, glad you enjoy that. Hiscus is a new offering at the market—I thought I’d splurge.” He leaned toward me. “No expense is too high to celebrate our special occas-s-sion.”
What special occasion?
He lifted his glass to mine. “And when will your dwelling be ready? I’m looking forward to seeing your nest.”
You’re never seeing my nest, asshat.“I must get my own then. Who is the hiscus seller?” My tail-wrapped calf would’ve revealed how fake my confidence was to anyone who knew me, but Raz bought it.
Creep.
“No need for that, Makir. I would love to sh-sh-share with you.” His toothy mouth widened over my name, and a cold shiver straightened my spine into a steel rod. I wondered if his jaw completely unhinged, like those of some of the lizard-like creatures on Lorne did when they captured extra-large prey.
He pushed the mouthwatering meat toward me on its star-patterned plate. “Please try some mantu. One of the hunting parties had fresh meat for sale and gave me some excellent advic-c-ce on preparation.”
Since my arrival on Tern months ago, I’d been starved of fresh meat and living off ration bars. The hovery—or should I say, lack of a hovery—had returned little profit. Bonic would, no doubt, top up my credits if I asked, but I was doing this on my own. The savory aroma of the mantu filled the air, making saliva pool in my mouth like a wild beast.
“Oh, and the lovely things the baker did with my graneth. You mus-s-st try one.” A puffy triangle of bread was placed on the side of my plate, perfect for soaking up all the flavorful juices from the mantu.
The conversation was pleasant enough, but the way Raz’s forked tongue flickered on every ‘s’ heightened my urge to run. Fast.
I barely stopped the eager purr in my chest as the perfect combination of saltiness and pungent umami flavor melted on my tongue. “This is fantastic.” I forked up another mouthful. “The graneth puff is a perfect sponge. My compliments.”
Raz leered, his scaly torso all too visible with his top three shirt buttons undone. He reached to caress my hand. Little did he know how practiced I was in avoiding this particular move. A glass of hiscus was in my hand before any offense could be taken.
My mother would’ve been appalled at how I shoveled the rest of my dinner into my mouth, but it was so much better than my mealy ration bars, I couldn’t let it go to waste.
“The archbuilder has given me homework, and it’s been a long rotation.” I yawned, genuinely exhausted. “I’ll have to take my leave. I enjoyed the meal, thankyou.” My chair glided back smoothly against Raz’s polished floors as I exited in a way that could only be construed as polite and neighborly.
“Leaving so s-s-soon? My guest room awaits you. Would you like to see it?” He gestured down his hall, his shirt gaping open farther as he maneuvered in front of the exit, blocking it.
Throat dry, my gaze darted around the room, hoping that a decent alpha would magically appear to rescue me. A heady disappointment had me swallowing hard. My promise to myself lingered beneath the fear. On Tern, you will be more than just an omega. You will be a successful hovic. You will make friends. You will be all the things you never knew you could be.
Chin high, I braced myself. With a grace inherited from my Tuniga lineage and reinforced by the High Hold’s defensive arts instructor, I spun on my heel, tail high. Raz’s hungry gaze ate up every movement. A smile twitched at the corner of my mouth before I crouched low and sprang up, deftly dodging under the arm barring my exit.
A stunned Raz called out, “Very well. Good night, Makir. I will see you s-s-soon. The offer still stands. You are welcome to use my guest room until your dwelling is complete.”
Adrenaline waning, the promise of that “s-s-soon” haunted me, and I ran the three steps to my door. The old tin stopped and stuttered when it caught on the uneven ground, but at least it acted as an alarm when someone entered. I expelled a tight breath and plopped down into a wobbly chair, my tail wrapped around my waist in a hug.
You did good. Be proud of yourself.
The moonlight streaming through the gaps in my walls only highlighted my need for a functional hovery, and my shoulders slumped. Why was my future in the hands of the archbuilder? When would my dwelling be ready?
The archbuilder abruptly ending our meeting flashed clearly in my mind. He had something against me, but my omega needs didn’t care. They went haywirearound him and his summer fields scent. If only he weren’t an overbearing jerk. A round, furless jerk who barely came to my chin.
