The Choosing (The Pruxnae Book 1) (5 page)

With the door firmly
closed and him on the other side.

Her heart
skipped into an erratic beat and she scolded it into calming. A handsome face
and a well-formed body did not detract from the sins Ryn had committed against
her. She’d do well to remember that instead of lingering over his attractive
form.

Their
time passed slowly, almost leisurely. Every shipboard morning after eating
breakfast, Ryn escorted Ziri to the bridge for their daily jump. Each time, he
taught her how to control a different aspect of the ship. She was a quick
study, absorbing his lessons almost as fast as he could teach them. She still
cursed him when she woke up after the jumps, but the time it took her to revive
was rapidly dwindling. Soon, they’d barely affect her at all.

On their fourth
morning together, he guided her gently into the pilot’s chair and lowered
himself into the co-pilot’s seat. She gazed at the console, her fingers hidden
in the hem of the sweater she wore.

His sweater, knit
by his own hands out of wool sheared from Gared’s flock of molnog. The docile
creatures were a nuisance to tend. Ryn couldn’t walk by without one humping a
mating dance on his leg.

He’d started his
own flock anyway. Their wool was soft and pliable. When spun into yarn and knit
into a garment, it held warmth close to the body. Woven blankets were prized
for their water repellant nature, though he had no talent for the loom. No
patience, either. Knitting was easier and more satisfying, and it was portable.
Ryn had brought along enough hanks to make his wife to be a sweater.

Now that he knew
Ziri, though, he hesitated. Only the most expensive molnog wool came in any
color other than black, and that was far too stark for Ziri’s delicate beauty.
She wore his serviceable, black clothes every day without complaint, but he
longed to provide her with something colorful and bright that would match the
spirit she’d shown and complement her natural coloring better.

He contemplated
the possibilities as she touched a tentative fingertip to the small screen set
into the console. “The other side,” he said, and she jerked her finger back
like she’d been shocked. He waved his hand across his body. She nodded and touched
the far side of the screen. It flickered and hummed to life.

She shot a
triumphant grin at him and rattled off a litany of words in her native tongue
that sounded as happy as she looked. The last one was
dyankyu
. He was
beginning to believe the word expressed some sort of gratitude, though he
couldn’t be sure. Occasionally, she paired it with a sarcastic tone that seemed
to bely a thankful attitude.

He shrugged it
off. At least she was trying. It was more than he’d expected, considering the
way he’d kidnapped her.

She flipped the
main viewscreen on and studied the terrain, rotating the camera to gain a good
view of their location. He’d opted to set them down on a terraformed moon.
Originally established as a colony some two hundred Galactic Standards ago, the
human population had eventually dwindled and disappeared as the residents fled
for less isolated residences on worlds not so frequently attacked by Sweepers. What
remained were herds of domesticated animals gone wild among acres and acres of
lush greenery.

Ziri zoomed in
on a grove of what looked like fruit trees and peered at the viewscreen. She
pointed at them and chattered, glancing between him and the viewscreen as she
did.

“No,” he said.

She scowled and
jabbed her finger at the trees. “Dyakul.”

He nodded. Yes,
that fruit would be really good to eat, but did she honestly believe he trusted
her not to run once he let her off the ship? He wasn’t in a hurry to return to
Abyw. On the other hand, he didn’t want to spend days tracking her through the
thick undergrowth covering the moon’s surface, not with the Choosing so close
and her a long way from being able to compete effectively.

She slumped into
her chair and crossed her arms under her breasts, her lightly tanned features
set in a mutinous glare.

He buckled
himself in and stared at her expectantly. Eventually, she huffed and rolled her
eyes, but she buckled in.

He put the
Yarinska
through its pre-flight drill from the co-pilot’s chair. Systems check, a double-check
of the coordinates he’d already input into the navigational controls, a
cautious peek at the system’s traffic. Good. No ships were nearby and
everything was a go.

As soon as they
were an adequate distance off the ground, Ziri retracted the landing gear. He
hid a pleased smile, well aware of the careful way she studied his movements.
He’d never shown her the landing gear before. That she was learning how to
operate the
Yarinska
on her own was both good and bad. He’d love to have
her as a backup on long voyages away from Abyw instead of a co-pilot. Right now,
though, she still had escape on her mind and was probably going to use anything
she learned to leave him.

He was just as
determined to keep her.

They cleared the
moon’s atmosphere a few ticks later. Ryn maneuvered them into a safe spot for a
jump and sat back in his chair. He jerked his chin toward the inset panel
containing the button that would, when pushed, launch them into a jump toward
the preset coordinates for the next destination on their journey.

Ziri rubbed her
fingertips along the panel, her blue-gray eyes troubled.

He threaded his
fingers together over his stomach and stretched his legs out, content to wait
while she gathered her nerve.

She glanced at
him beneath lowered lashes and nibbled on her bottom lip with even, white
teeth. Her fingers traced the panel’s rectangular outline, and need reared its
ugly head, shoving through the peace lingering between them. He wanted to
nibble her lip like that, needed her to touch him with those delicate fingers,
to trace the outline of his body as he braced himself above her and slid into
her welcoming heat, joining them intimately together.

He shifted in
his seat, annoyed at the heated desire forcing his manhood into rigidity. It
was too soon to approach her with those needs, not when they were just
beginning to understand each other. Maybe after the Choosing, she’d be ready to
accept him as a woman accepted her lover.

She glanced at
his legs. Her eyes flicked upward, landing on his hardening manhood pushing his
coveralls upward, and she paled. Her fingers twitched on the panel as she
averted her gaze.

He sighed. Maybe
a couple of Galactic Standards after the Choosing, she might be ready for him.

Under the
unsteady brush of her fingers, the panel snicked open. The jump button buzzed
upward. He exhaled sharply as Ziri’s hand slapped down on the button, and they
flashed across the galaxy in a distorted blur of color and sound.

* * *

Ryn puttered while
the jump engine recharged. As soon as Ziri had revived after their last jump,
the first one she’d handled on her own, she’d retreated to the relative safety
of the shipboard greenhouse. He’d gathered tools and spare parts and begun a
tediously slow check of the water systems. The secondary AI insisted a water
filter was bad. It just refused to tell him what was wrong or where the problem
was located, which meant checking every single one.

He kraden hated
repair work, but he did it anyway. It was cheaper than hiring a mechanic and
easier than listening to his sister, Tyelu, gripe about the
Yarinska
’s
age. “You could’ve had a nicer ship, Ryn, if you’d let Papa help,” she’d say,
and yet again, the guilt of being a burden to his second parents would wash
over him.

Ryn knelt in the
main hallway near Ziri’s greenhouse and manhandled an ill-fitting panel out of
the wall. He propped it up beside the opening and studied the tangle of pipes
and gadgetry he’d revealed. Most of the shipboard water was recycled after
every use. Down the drain it went, where it sifted through a series of
cleansing filters into small holding tanks tucked beneath the cargo bay. Locks
separated each of the tanks, opening only as water was pulled through them into
the pipes for use, protecting the majority of the water stored within them if
one sprang a leak. In theory, the smaller filters placed at regular intervals
along the pipes kept the water fresh and clean, no matter where it had come
from or how long it had been in the tanks.

In reality, the
system rarely worked the way it was supposed to. When Tyelu had assessed the
Yarinska
,
she’d advised replacing the entire system. He’d talked her into helping him
refit it instead, a much cheaper alternative that should’ve suited his needs
fine.

And would have,
if he could figure out how to keep the kraden thing running.

He selected a
wrench and set it to the bolt holding one of the filters in place. A gently
clucking tongue interrupted his work. He glanced up. Ziri was straddling the
lip of the door leading into the greenhouse, her arms crossed under her
breasts, amusement lighting her tilted, blue-gray eyes.

He sat back on
his haunches. So, she thought him working on the pipes was funny, did she? He
eyed her small smile. A perverse need to widen it into full-blown humor punched
at him. He could tease her into laughter, watch it brighten her face as her
humor rolled out. She had a beautiful laugh, soft and husky and so genuine, nobody
hearing it could doubt its sincerity. His hands curled into fists around the
wrench. Would she laugh like that for him, after the Choosing? Would she fill
their days with the joy he craved in the hidden part of his heart where his
past ate into his present?

She knelt beside
him and brushed her fingers over his hands. “Ryn,” she said, followed by a
spate of soft-spoken words that sounded so much like an apology, his heart
twisted in his chest. She hadn’t done anything wrong, not at all. Her smile
held a rightness he hoped to see every day.

He loosened his
grip on the wrench. She took it from him and shooed him out of the way, then
studied the
Yarinska
’s internal workings.

“Hmm.” She faced
him and tapped a finger on the filter, raising a single eyebrow. He nodded and
settled his back against the far wall. What could it hurt to let her try? He’d
seen for himself how good she was with her hands, back when he’d been searching
for the perfect woman to capture as his future bride. Her knack for fixing
things around her home had been a bonus, as far as he was concerned, though
he’d never hoped to turn that aspect of the
Yarinska
over to her. Didn’t
Tyelu complain all the time that such work should be left for men, and dumb
ones at that?

He was pretty
sure she was insulting him in particular when she tacked on that last bit. It
was rude, yes, and not exactly true. He was intelligent enough, just not where
mechanics was concerned. He’d managed to keep her out of trouble when they were
growing up, hadn’t he?

Ziri ran her
hands lightly over the exposed section of the water system, flipping switches,
tapping pipes. She placed her free hand on the edge of the panel and set the
wrench against the bolt he’d been about to turn. Down her hand went, torqueing
the wrench, loosening the bolt. She grunted and shifted her stance, spreading
her knees farther apart as she worked the bolt off.

Her bottom
wiggled every time she moved.

Ryn’s gaze
dropped to the gentle curves of her hips and the full cheeks of her ass,
clearly outlined by her pants.
His
pants, too loose at her waist and a
little too snug around her hips. She wiggled again and the heat pooling in his
groin morphed into a raging flame of need.

He stifled a
groan and raised one leg, placing his foot flat on the floor, knee bent, in the
futile hope of hiding his erection from Ziri’s keen-eyed gaze. The last thing
he needed was her running from him again, her face pale and tense like she
expected him to wrestle her to the floor on the spot and thrust himself into
her.

He jerked his
eyes away from temptation and focused on the plain, gray wall to the left of
her hand. A tick later, the wiggling stopped and a grinning Ziri swiveled toward
him, filter in hand. He shook his head, hoping she’d understand, and was
unsurprised when she shrugged and began screwing off parts, checking each one
before laying it out on the floor in what appeared to his untrained eye to be a
random manner. She hummed every once in a while, like she’d found something
interesting.

Halfway in, she
paused, her mouth twisted into a thoughtful scowl. Very carefully, she shifted
her grip and held the filter aloft solely by her fingertips, tilted toward Ryn.
He peeked inside and sighed. A wriggling mass of tiny, white life forms filled
what should’ve been a tightly packed layer of carbon particles. Frinworms, a
whole kraden infestation of them. How they’d gotten there, he hadn’t a clue,
but if he didn’t eradicate them now, they’d eat through the carbon in every
filter and Tyelu would get her wish. He’d have to scrap the water system and
start all over again, just when he’d found Ziri and needed the vud for the
bride price.

He cursed under
his breath. They’d have to shut the water system down, the whole thing, which
meant cold rations and no shower for either of them until they pulled every
carbon-based filter out and irradiated them. Replacing them would be better,
but he didn’t have enough spare filters for that.

He took the
infested filter from Ziri and patted her shoulder. “Dyankyu.”