And yea,feelings.
Too entranced by the scent and sensation of her, he’d forgotten to check the button at her breast. What would it have revealed to him?
He started to scrub his paws over his face, then froze. Curse the infinite stars, her scent…
Narrowing his eye, he stared at his fingers. Almost imperceptible against his fur were flecks of paler gold.
Hers. When he’d touched her hair, his claw had slid out, not under his control, and severed just the ends of one lock. Now the little strands were entangled in his fur.
That had been wrong of him. A dereliction of his duty, and a disrespect to her bodily autonomy. He would have to admit to the affront and make amends.
Still not entirely under his control, his fingers curled into a fist, holding tight to the strands so fine he could not feel them. But he knew they were there.
If he’d been wearing a feelings button— No he wouldn’t have been because it would’ve exploded, leaving a few more scars on his hide.
Letting her walk away from him had been almost impossible. Every impulse in him demanded that he seize her, not just a few strands of hair, to claim all of her for his devotion. Butthatwas impossible.
This was just a cruise around three moons for a few more credits in his account and a few lightyears worth of rehab to his reputation. As soon as the ship returned to port, he would—
His whiskers prickled, and he tensed, half crouching as he pivoted a slow circle.
He widened his eye and flared his nostrils, testing. He even checked the datpad on his wrist. But despite the warning of his senses, he was alone in the corridor.
Distantly, the chime and clang of the external hatch echoed. Ah, the subtle change in air pressure must’ve triggered him. He straightened, shaking down his raised fur.
The passengers were arriving. Felicity would be smiling at them, her button shining brightly, her hair once again tidy.
Except for the strands tangled in his fur.
“Captain?” Suvan’s grating tones crackled through the datpad, jolting Ellix.
He scowled, though there was no one to witness his momentary distraction. “Here.”
“Lub just puked up another diode. Is launch still a go?”
“Unless we can give Evens a reason to scrub beyond ‘my pet larf says this ship tastes wrong,’ yea, the launch is a go.” He strode off toward the command module, which was where a captain should be for launch. He was definitely not mooning over a little Earther.
“Lub is not a larf,” the engineer said. “He’s a goblhob. And the ship does taste wrong.”
Unlike Felicity. She would be deliciously sweet.
Growling under his breath, Ellix raked his outstretched claws—when hadthathappened?—through his mane, smoothing the itchy bristle. “We launch when the passengers clear the lock.”
“You are the captain.”
That was definitely mockery from engineering.
But it was just a three-sunset tour. Nothing would go wrong.
Through his datpad, he tracked the onboarding passengers, listening to the exclamations of delight as they entered the hatch lobby, refurbished to what Ellix presumed were Evens’ Earther aesthetics.
While he completed his pre-launch checks, he glanced at the corridor monitors as the IDA cruise winners were ushered through the ship. About half were Earther females, the rest an eclectic array of galactic citizens. They were all attired, adorned, and artificed festively, even a bit provocatively, according to various interstellar fashions. Some of them had their own datpads out, aiming at the various points of interest that Felicity indicated. Evens had said there would be influence-peddlers, selected for their audience connections, among the prize-winning passengers. But in general, the new arrivals all seemed excited and engaged with authentic pleasure.
As if they were genuinely thrilled about the idea of seeking a match during a jaunt around a trio of sequentially numbered moons, remarkable only for some geological quirks and their proximity to inhabited sectors with disposable credits.
Settling into the too-tight command chair, Ellix was taken aback by his own cynicism. If he’d been wearing a feelings button, it would’ve been…a defunct gray. Useless and busted. But would he really begrudge others their happiness?
As he leaned over to cast his datpad view to the main forward screen, the unwatched message cube in his pocket poked him hard.
