Her Alien Protector: A Sci-fi Romance

Part 11

Kayla

Tarak and Rigel are facing off like Neanderthals. Ava's back is against the wall, and she's trembling.

Triage time. First, I go to my Tarak. His powerful arms grip my waist as he curls his body around me. He sniffs, his hot breaths tickling the back of my head and neck.

I rub his arms. "You are mine and—"

"—I am yours," Tarak rumbles.

Once Tarak is calm, I turn my attention to Ava. With a wave of my hand, I turn off the wall translator; the last thing Ava and I need is aliens interrupting our conversation.

I go to Ava, spreading my fingers wide on either side of her face like horse blinders, and lean my forehead against hers. She has nowhere to look but at me.

I keep my voice low and calm as if she is a spooked horse ready to bolt. "Welcome, Ava. We'll be going on a journey soon. I think it will be good for you."

Good for you? I feel guilty acting as if she is a child needing guidance instead of the adult she is.

Right now, though, Ava is so scared her brain is short-circuiting. Even with me, a human by her side, she shakes like a leaf.

Her eyes brim with tears. "Scourge?" she whispers, clutching my shirt.

What made me think taking Ava on a trip with a scourge would be helpful? We are torturing Ava. I'm tempted to tell Rigel to take her off the ship.

Except the words from her medical report still burn in my mind:

—poor adaptation to scourge medical staff—

—phobic of scourges—

—not likely to pass her upcoming assessment or adapt to life aboard Hydra—

Not managing her scourge phobia means she will fail her evaluation, which on Hydra is a death sentence.

We are about to embark on a brief expedition with my beloved Tarak at the helm. His presence might potentially terrify Ava, but if Ava makes this journey with us, and learns she will not die when in the proximity of a scourge... It could be the key to dealing with her scourge phobia.

I guide Ava into a seat at the helm. Her breaths are short and wheezy and her wild darting eyes follow Tarak. I need to face it; her senses are probably honed to scourges, and Tarak is impossible to miss.

Time for me to address the elephant (or Tarak) in the room. "Tarak is a scourge who will be journeying with us, and I promise you, he's a good guy."

Good guy? What am I, a high school student? Ava's dark eyes look at me as if searching for something. She's listening, so...

"I'm sure once you spend time with us, you'll see what I do. Tarak is kind. He will not hurt you. Tarak is..." My words echo back to me from the wall with a slight delay and with the wall unit's voice.

Wait, how did...?

Rigel stands near the helm's computer, grinning at me and probably proud of himself for figuring out how to activate the translator. If that translator is activated, then that means—

My eyes meet Tarak's. He's listening, too.

I fidget, playing with my collar, and rubbing my chest while I speak to Ava. "Tarak is mine and I am his. Please give him a chance. You will see with your own eyes: not all scourges are the same."

What I want to tell Ava is that most scourges are not like Loviatar. Right now, she is so afraid that saying Loviatar's name aloud might send her deeper into a state of panic, so simplistic speech it is.