Free GalacticFlame by Mel Teshco Page B

wasn’t
attracted to them in any way. Genesis was the only one who sent her pulse
soaring and caused her belly to dip. The only one who made her heart
pitter-patter just from a glance.
    Was it possible some things were simply meant to be?
    Pushing aside all thoughts related to Genesis, she asked in
a small voice, “Are the caltronians really so vicious?” She couldn’t go
up that mountain ill-advised and without knowledge.
    “Unfortunately, yes. Few people survive an attack. Even
those of us who hunt them in groups take a big risk.”
    It highlighted how fearless and undoubtedly skilled Trasean
and Auron were as warriors. “So why not leave them alone?”
    “They’re prolific breeders. One female caltronian has
a litter of up to ten cubs every mating cycle—every eight to ten months.” He
shrugged. “If you do the math you can see why that would be a problem. There’d
be so many we’d be fighting just to stay alive, as would much of Carèche’s other
wildlife.”
    His earlier statement about staying on his planet to keep it
alive suddenly made so much sense.
    “Besides which,” he added, “their meat is a pleasure to eat
and their dense fur makes for the best bedding.”
    She pointed to his bike. “Not to mention seat padding.”
    “Exactly.”
    When he got the bolishta to kneel once again, he slid
off before gathering her back into his arms. She gave the animal one last pat
along its nose. It almost groaned with pleasure, its lips wobbling as though
jelly. “Thank you,” she said to the animal with a laugh, “you were great for a
novice rider.”
    Genesis placed her on the cercanne and helped her
adjust her feet in the stirrups. She wiggled her toes, marveling how the sand
was too hot by far for her to walk on; yet her delicate skin had yet to burn,
even redden slightly. It was as if the ground absorbed all the heat.
    “Wait one second.” He grinned and added drily, “Don’t go
anywhere.”
    He strode past the bolishtas and toward the gardens.
Stooping, he plucked one of the plants from the ground and brought it back with
him. Red vines like thin, nobly ropes hung down from a hollow, central wand. He
handed it to her with a flourish. “Flowers for my woman.”
    She accepted the spongy offering feeling every bit the fraud
she was. But somehow she croaked, “Thank you. But…flowers?”
    “That’s right.” He stroked the inside of the central wand
and one flower popped out from the nobly part of the vine, followed by another
and another, until a bouquet of bright red, roselike flowers filled her hands.
    “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, awed by the magnificence
in her hands.
    He plucked one from its vine and pressed it behind her ear.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sheehar .”
    Something in her chest hurt. God, she really was falling for
him, despite herself. Shame he was wooing a fake, a woman not even his
intended.
    He climbed aboard the cercanne . As it came to life
she could only be glad he was oblivious to the tears that fell as he turned the
bike around for the return journey.
    She didn’t deserve him.
    As they sped along the sand, her arms wrapped around his
waist and the bouquet clutched in her hands, the flower whipped free from her
hair. She turned around and watched the bloom bounce behind them, abandoned and
soon swallowed up by the surroundings, not unlike the way her lies had become a
seamless part of herself.
    Genesis’ people had set up quite the feast by the time they
returned. Aromas she didn’t recognize permeated the air and made her belly
grumble with hunger.
    Big bowls of steaming food—the sylaks had been kept
busy—sat on a long shield table that hovered just above the ground, caltronian rugs laid out either side as seats.
    Katy’s two cherub-faced children ran around the tents,
giggling as they took it-in turns giving chase, their dads watching proudly.
    Genesis once again carried her over the hot sand, and she
couldn’t help but think he would look