“What is it like, having a family unit? We do not have this on our planet, although I see it in many other places.” There are some words she says that I do not understand, but it sounds like she is content with life.

When she glances back at me, I see she is sad but I am not sure why. She has one pot of water getting hot and one skillet with a mixture of sauces and chopped veggies.

“I can’t imagine life without it,” she says. “It’s a comfort to know you always have someone on your side, ready to support you if you’re struggling. Ever since I can remember they have been there for me, my mother and brother. When my mom was sick, it really made me appreciate the time we have together, because I was so close to losing her.”

“I understand. Such loss is difficult,” I agree.

“You lost someone?” she asks softly.

“Certainly. We are always at war. I lost my first command unit. I am the only one still living from that group.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says, setting down her chopping knife.

“Why do you apologize? Earth has nothing to do with the Sector 5 war, and therefore their deaths are entirely unrelated to you.”

“It’s just a way that humans let each other know that they empathize with someone who is mourning,” she explains. Her head is tilted to the side as she surveys my face, her pretty lips turned down.

“Ah.” I shrug. “We do not mourn on Kar’Kal.”

I’ve made her uncomfortable; I can tell immediately. Her fingers flex before she moves to grab her knife again. “Ella, I am sorry—”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she says, rubbing at the corner of her eye. “It’s just so different from Earth, that’s all. I am no one to judge. I just don’t understand it.”

I hop down from my seat and round the bar to stand beside her. I dare to rest my hand on the middle of her back, and she leans into it, sneaking a look up at me. “There is phrase we learn very early as Kar’Kali warriors. An emotion will not solve problems. To me, it was always this: Anger will not complete this mission. Anger will not solve this problem. Anger will not kill your enemies.”

Her eyes widen and water up as she listens.

“Anger will not make them live again,” I say quietly. I do not tell her the terrible things I did after they had gone from this world. I do not tell her because I am a coward, and if she knows this she will surely never want my attentions. Anger will not take back my failures.

“Do you want to know what a human would say?” she asks.

“I want to know what Ella would say,” I reply instead.

“It’s okay to be angry. It’s healthy to mourn. If you never let yourself be upset, you will never get through it,” she says, and presses her body against me. Her arms wind around me, and her head rests against my chest. I’m warm all over from this simple contact, and then she squeezes me with gentle pressure.

Her laughter vibrates against me. “Haven’t you ever been hugged before?”

“No,” I admit.

“You’re supposed to hug back,” she says. I encircle her small frame in my arms. She is so tiny, I am afraid squeezing her will be uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I pull her just slightly closer against me.

“Mm,” she hums. “We’ll work on that. Good start. A for effort.”

We stay like that for a moment, chest to chest, my head bent to rest on top of hers. The prospect of pulling away is unthinkable. From here, everything is clear, and I know the risk in coming to see her was merited, if only for this ‘hug’ alone.

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Chapter 11

Ella

I am enjoying my time with my repressed alien stalker far too much.

Thanks to a few minutes in the aliens’ microwave box earlier, I am certain that my biology is normal and that the magical Kar’Kali fuck-spirit isn’t making me hormonal. That said, I can’t deny my attraction to Kila. And ooooh boy, does he seem to be affected by the Kali’Ka.

Except, instead of him turning into a wild caveman ready to pin me down as the other scientists would have me believe, he’s turned into a sweet, earnest, and dare I say it—flirtatious guy. His smiles light up his face, changing everything. I’ve always thought him to be handsome, but the stone-like skin and his brooding expressions tended to make him more like a perfectly carved statue, cold and unreal. Now, he is warm and receptive, listening to my stories and telling his own.

I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends, and you might even say I’m easy. I prefer to call it experience. But no one has caught my attention quite like Kila has. It gives me very bad ideas, ideas about poisoning his innocent, robotic little mind with dirty human thoughts. Ideas like—God, I’d love to see his face when he’s inside a woman for the first time in his existence. I have serious whiplash from how fast he’s become utterly devoted to me. The problem is… I’m not sure accepting an invitation to be someone’s breeding mate is such a good idea. I mean, I’m no stranger to finding a man at my door with his mind on one thing and one thing only, but at least with exes and fuckboys I know what I’m signing up for when I let them inside.

After I teach him what a hug is, we go on talking together while I cook. The topic thankfully turns to lighter topics, like his first impressions of Earth and my story of starting work at the facility. He enthusiastically consumes two thirds of a pound of the pasta bolognese I made for him, and then proceeds to suggest that we “hug lying down.” The man thinks he invented cuddling.

So, now, because I’m a pushover, we are entwined on my couch, chatting about nothing and everything. I have never felt more comfortable than I do leaning into him. He cradles me and nestles his nose against my head, sending delicate tingles down my spine.

“Cuddling,” he repeats the word I gave him for what we are doing, his accent turning D’s into T’s. “I like this very much.”

“Kila…”

“Yes?” He leans his head back against the arm of the couch so that I can shift to face him.

“When I spoke with you just yesterday, you said it would be best if you continued to avoid me, and yet here you are. What changed?” I ask.

He tenses up. “The mating call became stronger,” is all he says.

“I know that. It’s just… What’s your plan? Did you come here trying to have sex with me? And if that’s what you’re trying to do, then what are you going to do when it’s over?”

“Over?” He shakes his head. “Unless my suppressor chip is repaired, there will be no over. A breeding mate is made for lifespans. I am aware of some species who have mating calls that only endure until there is offspring, but that is not the way of the Archaic Kar’Kali. Once it begins, it goes on until the mating pair has gone to ashes.”

“I’ll say it again then… What is your plan, Kila?”

He presses his face into my hair, hiding his expression from me. “For the first time in many passings, I do not have one. I only need to be around you, to see you safe and happy, and touch you. That is all my body is telling me to do.”

“And on Monday? If they tell you they can fix the chip, what will you say?” I ask him.

“These are difficult questions. Am I being tested?”

“Yes! Look, I’m trying to be the reasonable one right now. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and start showing you just how fun ‘mating’ can be… but I’m worried that you’ll regret it, hate me for it, get in serious trouble with Pakka and the others…” I turn his face so that I can see him. His lips are worried into a frown, and I know my instincts are correct. There’s guilt here, guilt and conflict.

“You are wise, Ella,” he sighs, hanging his head. “I was driven to find you by my wild lust and need, but I promise you that now we are together I feel it is enough just to be near you. It is helping, keeping the insanity at bay. There is no need to mate, no need to put us in a situation that may cause more problems.”