VERONICA

The cootie in my breast doesn't stop. It doesn't stop as the others rise from their parasite-induced naps. It doesn't stop as the suns (both of them, tiny dull specks in the sky) go down and we all gather by the fire to eat stew. The weather gets colder and it's not nearly as bothersome, which is nice.

But my cootie still doesn't stop. Like, at all. And when Ashtar comes and sits next to me with his bowl of stew, it kicks into high gear, thrumming and purring so hard that I can practically feel my boobs shaking. He watches me as he eats, which only makes things worse. I do my best to avoid eye contact, staring straight ahead at the fire and not looking at him. If I do, my cootie's just going to get louder.

And it seems that the louder the darn thing gets, the more I…feel it. Not just in my chest, where it's shaking all of my internal organs around, but lower, between my thighs, like I'm the dirtiest girl on the planet and it wants the world to know just how horny I am. Because god, am I horny. Ashtar's nearness only makes things worse, too. He's close by and his heat radiates and he's watching me and it takes everything I have not to fling myself on him for a quick makeout session.

Then I remember him ripping his loincloth off and gazing down at me with swirling black eyes that superseded the blue…and I remember that a cootie's two goals are not just to keep me alive, but to make me pregnant. And that cools the ardor pretty fast.

Out of all twenty people that get cooties that afternoon, Ashtar and I are the only ones that resonate. I'm surprised, because I really thought that someone else would. I'm not the prettiest girl. I doubt I'm the most fertile. But here I am, buzzing like a cellphone on constant vibrate, and Ashtar is, too. Everyone stares. Gosh, does everyone stare. Hannah smirks at me from over her bowl, and Bridget and Tia watch us with fascination. Even nearsighted Lauren is eyeballing us as if everyone's just waiting for me to toss aside my dinner and leap onto Ashtar.

I mean, he's good-looking, but no. Really good-looking. Intensely good-looking, honestly. And warm. And appealing. And…and I need to stop thinking like that or this cootie's really going to make me leap onto him like everyone expects. I shove another mouthful of stew into my face and promptly burn my mouth. Figures.

After dinner, people chitchat back and forth. Harlow and Liz tell us about how they got on the planet. Vektal tells us all about his mate and children, and it's clear that he misses them greatly. On and on, people share their stories. I learn names to go with faces, and I watch everyone with a wistful sort of envy. Sometimes it seems like they're less of a tribe and more of a family. They tease each other back and forth. They steal food from each other's bowls like it's a game. They joke and laugh about babies and mates and hunting adventures. Everyone seems to know everything about everyone else, and no one is left out or unwelcome. I've never had a big family. Growing up, it was just me and my dad, and he passed away two years ago. I've been alone ever since.

I wouldn't mind being part of a big family again, even if they have horns and blue skin and glowing eyes. Heck, everyone has glowing eyes now. All except Ashtar. His glow sometimes, but I've noticed that when his mood changes, the colors spiral and darken. I automatically look over at him, only to see that he's watching me with an intensity that makes my nipples prick underneath my tunic. My pussy throbs with a reminder that the cootie's making me turned on, and I cross my legs delicately so I can squeeze them tighter.

Unfortunately, after that quick look over at Ashtar, his cootie's purring even louder than mine. At my other side, Nadine giggles and I want to sink into the snow and just hide. Damn damn damn.

"Tonight we sleep inside the ship again one more time," Vektal says to the gathered group. "Then, tomorrow, we shall arrive at the great salt lake and will destroy it there."

One of the men—the one with tattoos and metal-coated horns—looks angry at this and stalks away. A moment later, the only female sa-khui, Farli, follows him. That must be her mate. I try to remember his name. Mardok, I think. Guess he's not happy with ditching the ship. That makes two of us.

After Farli and her mate depart, everyone else eventually scatters. Harlow and Liz head off to bed with their mates, and the other blue guys discuss setting watches. I head inside the ship's hold with the other women and grab my roll of furs from the stack in the corner, laying out my blankets in the corner. I feel watched right now, too, like everyone's waiting to see if I'm gonna just shack up with Ashtar right in front of everyone.

I mean, jeez. Do they think I'm a cat in heat? I rub at my purring chest. Maybe they do.

It's no longer as bitterly, horribly cold so I don't mind that no one else bunks next to me. The other girls probably don't know if they should sleep next to me, I tell myself, though I feel a little isolated and lonely and that sucks. I crawl under the covers fully dressed and close my eyes. I have all the time in the world to make friends. It doesn't have to happen tonight. I hope.

A soft thump lands beside my head. I open my eyes and see Ashtar's bedroll next to my head. In the next moment, the big golden alien unravels his blankets and then lies down next to me.

I sit up on my elbows. "What are you doing?" I hiss at him. In the dark, I can feel my face turning bright red, like all the heat in my body has gone there. Well, there and one other place between my legs that won't stop throbbing.

"I am sleeping next to you to share my body heat," he announces.

Oh goody. He just said that loud enough for everyone to hear. Somewhere in the background, I hear someone snicker. Jerks. Of course, I'd probably be snickering if it wasn't me resonating…but it is, dammit. That makes it different. I debate telling him no, because now everyone's going to think tonight under my blankets, we're going to have one big makeout party. I clench my thighs together at the thought, because I like it far too much and I blame that on my cootie.

It's not Ashtar's fault that he resonated to me, the blandest of the bland. It's not his fault that I don't know how to handle his boldness and his flirty ways. He's trying to be nice.

And we're definitely going to have to get along in the future, because my cootie isn't taking no for an answer. So I say nothing as he lies down on his bedroll and looks over at me as if I'm the most interesting thing in the world.

"Hi," I whisper, utterly conscious of everyone else around us.

"You smell nice," Ashtar tells me, and then his eyes flicker darker and a frown crosses his face. Before I can ask what it is, someone drops a bedroll right next to our heads. I look up and it's Zolaya, who lies down without comment and closes his eyes.

It's obvious he's chaperoning. It's also obvious from the angry set of Ashtar's jaw that he's not a fan. I can't help the giggle that rises in my throat, though. This is almost funny. I press a hand to my mouth to smother the hysterical laughter bubbling there when Ashtar sighs heavily.

Eventually, the golden alien leans in close to me, whispering. "How are you feeling?"

That just makes my cootie buzz louder, and his does, too. God, I'm surprised no one asks us to go sleep in another room it's so loud. "I feel fine. You?"

"I am fine…except my cock aches."

That makes me giggle-snort with laughter, and nearby, Zolaya clears his throat.

"Do not worry," Ashtar says, leaning in. "I will ignore it until you are ready for mating."

"Thank you," I manage to choke out.

That's not the end of the conversation, though. Ashtar turns toward me, leaning on one arm so he can study me. "Did your captors hurt you? The slavers?"

Did they hurt me? "I don't…think so? I didn't even see them. All I remember is going to sleep in my apartment and waking up here." I gesture at the air. "So if they hurt me, I don't recall it." Maybe that's a good thing. I'm creeped out by how much I might have missed while asleep, but at the same time, I don't know that I want to know. If something awful happened, I think I'd rather spend the rest of my life not knowing. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, they never got into the arena with me."

"Arena?"

"Yes. I am called a gladiator. I fight other slaves to the death for the glory of my owner."

"Jesus." I look over at him with wide eyes. "How long did you do that for?"

He shrugs his big shoulders, not taking his gaze off of me. "I was stolen to be a slave when I was eight."

"Eight? An eight-year-old gladiator?"

"There are all kinds of fights to please spectators. What did you do? Were you a slave back on your planet?"

"God, no. I did medical billing." I grimace, because that probably makes no sense to him. "I assigned money to, er, healers after they saw people that were hurt."

He grunts. "That does not sound exciting."

"It doesn't have to be exciting if it provides security."

Ashtar homes in on my words. He leans in closer. "And security is important to you."

"Isn't it important to everyone?" His eyes—and mine—glow in the darkness, and it makes it easier to see his mouth. I have the most intense urge to kiss him, but I fight it. I don't want to send out the wrong signals.

"Not to me. A gladiator exists only day to day, battle to battle. I did not think I would live long enough for such things to cross my mind." He grins, his teeth flashing bright in the darkness. "But if you worry over such things, I will make sure you are safe."

What can I possibly say to that? "Thank you."

"I am told your people do not battle to show mating urges. This is true?"

Erm? He's giving me an intense look, and I realize he's utterly serious. "Battle? No. If we want to mate we show it in other ways. Nice ways."

"Nice ways?"

"Kissing. Flowers. Gifts. Things like that."

He looks intrigued. "Gifts. I can do those. Tell me who your enemies are and I will bring you their heads."

"No heads," I say faintly. "You know what? Let's just skip gifts entirely."

"Then you wish plants and these ‘kissings.’"

I'm not sure I want any of it…but I'm also not sure that's not me lying to myself. "Before we start running off on this track, how about we just take things slow, all right? I'm not sure I'm ready for any of this."

"I understand. I do not wish to force you, Veronica. What you want is important to me."

Oh my god. Now we're talking about sex again. I touch his hand to get his attention. "Not so loud. The others will hear."

He snorts. "You think they do not know we are going to mate? Your khui is louder than mine."

"Yes, well, like I said, I just need more time to get used to all of this." More time to get used to how frank he is, and the whole planet, and everything. In the space of a day or two I've gone from boring Earth job to stranded ex-slave on a wintry planet with a forever mate who wants to give me the heads of my enemies. It's a bit much for any girl to take in. "I'm still not entirely sure why your cootie picked me."

Ashtar goes still, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just that. I'm not special. It's weird that we're the only ones that resonated. There are others that are prettier, or more athletic. There are others that are smarter. Heck, Devi's a scientist. But for some reason your cootie picked mine and I'm still trying to figure that out."

"It knew I wanted you," he tells me confidently. "Why would it not choose you? You are the only one whose scent called to me in this place. I was pleased to hear that I would be given a female, but when I scented you, I knew you were my mate."

Beg pardon? He scented me and that was how he knew? "What do you mean? You told your cootie to pick me?"

"No. I am the same as you—I woke up to find my chest singing its song for you. But when I got here, I found one scent more appealing than any other. I was very curious to find whose it was. And I learned it was yours." He reaches out and traces a claw-tipped finger down my arm. "Does that bother you? That I chose you before the khui did?"

"No? I guess not?" It's a little mind-boggling. "You do know back on Earth I'm not special to anyone, right?"

"Ah, my Veronica," he murmurs, voice low and just a little bit rumbly with the force of his cootie. "You do not have to be special to everyone. Just to me."

It's hard to argue with that.