Odin: Alien Adoption Agency #5 Page 8

“And now you are my mate,” he said. “Nothing in your past can change that.”

  He was telling the truth. She felt it in her bones. But that didn’t make it any more believable.

  “This is hard for you to hear,” he guessed.

  She shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t seem real.”

  “Does it seem like a bad thing?” His tone was light, but she could see the fear in his eyes.

  She reached for him, pulling him close, pressing her forehead to his, feeling the pull between them, like an elastic band that only eased when he was near.

  “It’s a strange idea,” she murmured. “But no, it doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

  He pulled back and her heart stuttered as if it had been unplugged from its power source.

  “You will need time to accept me,” he said gruffly. “Until you welcome our bond openly - body, heart and mind - I cannot claim you.”

  “You cannot…” she echoed and trailed off when she realized what he meant.

  She almost whined in frustration, but managed to keep quiet.

  He chuckled. “I know.”

  “Did you… hear me?” she asked.

  “The bond is tightening around us, though we haven’t sealed it yet,” he told her. “Believe me, little one, I feel the same. Listen.”

  He closed his eyes.

  She felt a wave of his need crash into her own.

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  He took her hand and placed it against his rough jaw.

  She felt her own response and his at once.

  “Imagine what this is like for me,” he told her, bending to press a kiss to her collarbone.

  Tingles of awareness shot down her body, her nipples tightened and pressed against the towel.

  Odin groaned and slid his finger under the top of the cloth, releasing her breasts.

  “I can feel everything you feel,” he whispered against the tops of her breasts. “Every shiver, every ache.”

  She gasped as he licked one nipple into his mouth and moaned around it.

  She was melting, her whole body screaming for his touch. She arched her back, desperate for more contact.

  He growled and fed on her breasts, abandoning one to ravage the other and then back again until she was whining with need.

  He pressed his lips to her belly, her hips, he licked and nipped at her inner thighs.

  Liberty squealed and let her legs fall apart for him. Surges of his own frantic desire shot through her and she lifted her hips to get to his hungry mouth.

  The first touch of his tongue on her sex almost made her scream.

  “Easy,” he murmured against her, the rumble of his voice sending more sensation back and forth between them. “Gods.”

  But he didn’t go easy at all. Liberty lost track of her own sounds as he devoured her sex, cleverly finding her most sensitive spots and teasing her until the world disappeared and there was only his mouth and her desperate need.

  “Please,” she moaned at last.

  Odin growled and flicked his tongue rapidly, easing a big finger just inside her.

  Liberty was flying, her pleasure lifting her up and then pulling her down in wave after wave of helpless ecstasy.

  20

  Odin

  Odin crawled up beside his trembling mate and pulled her close.

  He had felt every pulse of her pleasure as it washed over her, and his own need pierced him like a knife.

  But he would take no satisfaction tonight. He would not seal the bond until Liberty made her decision without the pull of lust clouding her thoughts.

  She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body close in invitation.

  “Rest now, my darling,” he whispered to her.

  “No,” she murmured, sliding her hand between them to trace his abs in pursuit of his cock.

  “Not yet,” he told her, circling her wrist with his hand to stop her. “Not until you are ready to accept me as your mate. And a mate is forever.”

  She made a small sound of protest, but didn’t struggle when he pulled her hand up and placed it on his chest.

  “Tonight you need to sleep,” he told her. “Colton will need us early in the morning.”

  He rolled onto his back, pulling her onto his chest, and traced her shoulder blades with his fingertips.

  Though his body still simmered with need, he felt a sweet satisfaction as Liberty’s breathing slowed and she slept in his arms.

  The rest of the night passed with peaceful slowness, and when the first soft light of morning crawled across the floor, Odin was still awake.

  Soon Liberty would awaken. He had spent the night wondering how she would feel when she did.

  He knew his own heart. In spite of his past, he knew that what he wanted in his future was to make her happy, whether he deserved the privilege or not.

  But Liberty’s heart had belonged to another. She might wake up sad or angry, sorry that she had tarnished the memory of that other love.

  And he wouldn’t resent her for it. She had not asked to draw a dragon’s bond. She had not asked for anything but a child to love and a peaceful new life on this farm.

  She began to stir, and he closed his eyes, waiting for her to remember.

  She stretched, moving her body deliciously over his, and made a sweet little moan of satisfaction, as if the stretch had given her pleasure.

  Though he had closed his eyes to give her privacy, he couldn’t resist taking a peek.

  “Are you pretending to be asleep?” she asked. Her voice was gentle, teasing and oh-so intimate.

  “Maybe,” he teased back, awash in relief. “How are you feeling?”

  “Wow,” she said. “Is that meant as a simple how-did-you-sleep, or more like let’s-unpack-your-feelings?”

  “You decide,” he told her, lifting her hand to his lips.

  “I feel good,” she said, smiling as he kissed her open palm.

  “Yes, you do,” he told her, nuzzling her wrist.

  Colton’s tiny cry wafted through the room.

  “Oh no,” Liberty cried, hopping out of bed immediately.

  Odin fell back on the bed, pretending to be upset.

  “You will never be able to compete with him,” Liberty teased. “You know that, right?”

  “I can’t really blame you,” he said, grinning as he sat up.

  “He’s a very special baby,” she said as she pulled on clothes.

  Odin watched with regret as her loveliness disappeared under her modest garments.

  She hurried down the hall to his room to retrieve Colton from the secondary cradle where the sitter had put him to bed last night, leaving Odin alone with his thoughts.

  He crawled out of bed, deciding to shower instead of thinking. When he was cleaned up and fully dressed, he headed out to the kitchen.

  Liberty had Colton in one arm, and she was flipping cakes on the griddle with the other.

  “Look at you,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

  “You’re not the only one who can cook,” she said proudly. “This is my grandmother’s cook’s favorite recipe.”

  “Wow,” Odin said, reminded suddenly of the fact that this modest woman had been raised in luxury.

  “They didn’t want me to learn how to cook,” Liberty confided. “But I really like it. There’s such a science to it.”

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Nah, it’s almost ready,” she said. “Just keep me company.”

  He smiled and pulled up a stool to watch her.

  “So I guess we have a lot to do today,” she said.

  “Well, we need to do everything we did yesterday,” Odin agreed. “And maybe take Colton to meet the neighbors on the next farm.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, placing a plate down in front of him.

  It was covered in thin cakes with some kind of brown sugar sauce shimmering on top.

  “This looks amazing,” he told her.

  “Eat it while it’s hot,” she said, wi
nking.

  He dug in. It tasted even better than it looked. Everything about this day was better than he had expected.

  And though they hadn’t talked about the mate bond, he could feel it pulled taut between them.

  It wasn’t awkward. And for once, he wasn’t angry or frustrated.

  He pondered the soft edges around his mood and discovered that what he felt was peace, and maybe happiness too.

  And definitely anticipation.

  21

  Liberty

  Liberty stood in the grove in total dismay.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said, gazing up into the trees where only fourteen sheep grazed on the tree canopy. She’d counted three times, with Odin backing her up. It wasn’t a mistake.

  “It wouldn’t be the jaguarootte,” Odin said thoughtfully. “There’s no trace of her tracks or scent. And she wouldn’t have taken out more than one at a time anyway.”

  “What would it be?” Liberty asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think we need to hurry through our other tasks and get to town to ask around.”

  “What would we even ask?”

  “Whether anyone else is missing livestock,” Odin said. “Whether any predators have been reported.”

  Keerah sat between them, looking back and forth as they spoke.

  “I can’t understand how she isn’t alerting us,” Liberty said. “She seems so devoted.”

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Odin told her. “Don’t worry.”

  But there was a pall over her perfect day, and Liberty couldn’t help but entertain the ridiculous notion that maybe she was being punished for her disloyalty to the memory of Wyn.

  They both got to work on the list of things that needed done, but the day seemed to move slowly, in spite of their best efforts to hurry.

  At last, the most necessary farm tasks were done, and it was time to go to town.

  “I think we’d better just take the mare,” Odin told her. “That cart will take forever to get us to town and we’ve no need to haul anything back.”

  “That sounds good,” Liberty agreed.

  She was secretly excited to ride the stag-mare. Lachesis was known for its unusual creatures, but the gorgeous draft horse-looking mare with antlers like a deer had her mesmerized the morning they first went to the barn to feed the animals and muck the stalls.

  Now, the lovely creature nickered in greeting as they entered the barn once more.

  “Hello, girl,” Liberty said, feeling more cheerful already. “I still can’t believe we have a real stag-horse. She’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

  “Most stag-horses are slender and lithe, but this one is excellent for farm work,” Odin said as he bridled the mare. “And she can easily carry us both.”

  The mare pranced out of her stall. She was midnight black with a long, inky black mane and tail, and rail-thin black antlers. Her front left foreleg and fetlock were pure white, as if she had stepped one foot in white paint before thinking the better of it.

  Liberty reached up to scratch gently behind her antlers and the mare lowered her face to nose her in the chest, bumping Colton in his sling.

  The baby made a small, surprised sound and reached for the velvety muzzle.

  The big mare whickered, and Liberty scratched her behind the antlers again.

  “You’ve ridden before?” Odin asked.

  “Not a stag-mare, but yes,” Liberty said.

  “Then I think we’ll skip the saddle,” he told her. “They’re tricky for a man my size and it would be uncomfortable if we’re both on there.”

  “Are you sure she’ll be okay with that?” Liberty asked.

  “Look at her.”

  They both looked. The stag-mare was almost the size of a puff-elephant. She could probably carry twice that much without noticing, especially in the lower than standard gravity of Lachesis.

  “You’re right,” Liberty told him.

  “Ready?” he asked her.

  She nodded and he lifted her effortlessly, baby and all. She wrapped her legs around the mare’s ribs and settled herself in.

  A moment later, Odin swung up behind her and pulled her close.

  Her heart began to pound, and she had to remind herself that they were about to go on a very important mission.

  With his big warm body wrapped around hers, all she could think about was going back to bed.

  “We’d better go, before I drag you off this horse and take you right here on the ground,” he growled into her ear.

  Before she could catch her breath, he squeezed his knees, and the stag-mare trotted down the path around the edge of the farm and onto the narrow trail below that led to town.

  Muted sunlight rippled through the cloud cover, making it appear that the blue-green mountains were underwater.

  Though the path was rough, the lower gravity made the going comfortable.

  Or maybe it was Odin holding her close and shielding her from the impact of the bumps.

  The breeze lifted her hair, and with Colton sleeping soundly in his sling, Liberty felt a comfort - physical and emotional - that was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

  They rode in happy silence until they reached the outskirts of a small town. A row of small, thatch-roofed houses with lush gardens served as an entry point to the village beyond.

  As they trotted past, a bunch of children flew out of their front yards to see the big stag-horse go by.

  Liberty smiled at them, and one little girl waved her arm so hard she looked like she was in danger of falling over.

  “Children love animals,” Odin remarked.

  “How could anyone not love this horse?” Liberty said, reaching down to pat the mare’s silky mane. It occurred to her that the beast needed a name that suited her.

  “Howdy, neighbors,” a man called out to them, going the opposite direction with his Lachesis octopus-drawn cart.

  “Hello,” Odin called back.

  They reached the town and turned right.

  “There’s a place to rest your mount over - oh wow,” Odin said, interrupting himself.

  The open area they had been heading for had rows of posts and troughs. But there were no animals there.

  Instead, a huge, sleek-looking ship had landed at the far side of the field. People were lined up outside.

  “It’s a medical transport,” Liberty said happily, pointing to the universal physician’s crest on the ship.

  “Of course,” Odin said. “It makes the rounds out in the frontiers. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Liberty said. “Not all systems have an organized transport schedule. It can save lives at very little cost.”

  “Well, there’s the cost of the supplies and the fuel,” Odin pointed out.

  “If they’re doing this the way the Physician’s Brigade did, then it’s very efficient,” Liberty said. “They’ll leave us with what we need on Lachesis and pick up something we have here that they can’t get elsewhere to take its place onboard. When they’ve made their full rounds, they should be restocking as they go with most of what they need.”

  “Interesting,” Odin said.

  “See how some of the people in line are carrying things,” Liberty said. “They’re probably not here to get medications, they’re here to deliver supplies or ingredients. Each local government probably donates a fuel allowance too, at least those that can. We used to make up the difference with donations from wealthy individuals and corporations.”

  “That does sound efficient,” Odin said thoughtfully. “You had a very important job.”

  “Wyn did,” she said, pleased that she was able to say her husband’s name proudly, and without pain. “I just helped.”

  “Seems to me like helping in any way was a very good thing,” Odin said.

  “I wonder if Colton will get his vaccines this way,” Liberty pondered out loud.

  “He’s not due for anything right now, but ma
ybe so,” Odin told her. “We’d better get back into town and see what we can do about the sheep.”

  They headed back to the main street and found the local police station without too much trouble.

  “That’s funny,” Liberty said, pointing to the saloon, which was right next door to the police station.

  Odin glanced over and shook his head, eyes twinkling. “I’d call it convenient.”

  A worker was hauling a large wooden crate out the back door of the saloon and loading it on a hover transport with a dozen other empty whiskey crates on it. He waved to them, and Liberty waved back.

  “They must do a brisk business,” she remarked.

  “It’s a frontier moon. There’s not much else to do,” Odin said, quirking an eyebrow. “Unless you own a farm.”

  They tied the mare to a post in front of the police station and headed inside.

  22

  Odin

  Odin held open the door to the police station for Liberty.

  She slipped inside and looked around curiously. It was likely that back on her Terra planet the police station was a marble wonder with every modern tech available to make policing easier. He wondered how she would react to this place.

  It was a typical frontier police post. There were wooden desks, simple flex-screen computing stations and a sticky vinyl table with a pot of stale-looking coffee. A single-feature hologram newsfeed ran along the ceiling. Right now, it was streaming a play by play on the arrival of the medical transport.

  “Howdy there, little lady,” the marshal on duty said, approaching Liberty with a smile that was far too appreciative for Odin’s liking.

  “We’d like to report some missing sheep,” Odin said plainly.

  “Well, now, let’s get your wife a nice chair to sit on and maybe some coffee before we get down to business,” the marshal said without looking at him.

  “I’m fine,” Liberty told him, her face expressionless.

  Odin couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t corrected the marshal when he called her his wife.

  The dragon gave a satisfied snort somewhere deep in his chest.