Page 32 of My Alien Jewel

I sigh. There’s no way to tell for sure until Nikolai wakes up. And if I want him to actually kiss me again, I’d better get cleaned up.

The bathroom is small, with just the basic amenities but it still feels like a luxury to have it to myself. There’s nobody leering at me as I finally strip out of the stolen coveralls. They were dirty before I put them on and after several days of me wearing them, they’re now so much worse for wear. I scrunch my nose, wondering how in the world anyone endured being anywhere near me, let alone hugging me. I stink.

As I’m about to step into the miniature shower cubicle, I catch sight of myself in the mirror and stop. The bright light mercilessly exposes every imperfection on my body and I clearly have too many to count.

Scars and bruises mar my skin. My bones stick out like someone threw a bag of skin over a skeleton. Every joint, rib,and vertebra looks like it’s about to pierce through the skin and escape my miserable body.

Part of me is covered in the black sludge I used to hide my complexion but the rest doesn’t look much better. My crystals used to shine brightly, even in dim light but now, the ones in my skin are all dull, and I know those inside of me aren’t faring much better.

I don’t shine anymore. I’m slowly being extinguished.

Not anymore, I decide, challenging the skeleton in the mirror to disagree with me. I’ve been through something terrible and it shows. But the physical issues are nothing that a long, hot shower, plenty of rest and nutritional food can’t fix. The mess in my head might take a little longer to sort out, but I’m determined to get back to normal, whatever that looks like.

I think my determination stems mostly from Zarkan confirming that I can stay on board the Supernova for as long as I want. Having a safe place where I can heal in peace without having to constantly look over my shoulder alleviates so many of my worries I feel like I’m floating.

Instantly suspicious of my sudden feeling of weightlessness, I check if my feet are still touching the floor but this time, it’s truly just a giddy feeling and not a gravity generator malfunction.

The shower runs at a low pressure but it’s amazingly hot, so I just stand under the stream for long minutes, letting the water wash away my worries, fears, and terrible memories. They’ll never go away completely but at least for now, I’m fairly confident I can deal with them without losing my mind. One thing is washing away completely, though—the filth I’m covered in.

I scrub almost viciously, relieved to see a patch of skin shine through the black sludge. I’m in here, somewhere. I just have to work hard to find myself again.

Chapter 17

Nikolai

I’m used to wakingup in the infirmary. I’ve fallen asleep studying at my desk many times. This is the first time waking up in a patient bed, though.

I groan as I try to shift position, my entire body tender. There’s a dull throbbing in my head, but I don’t really feel any pain. Someone probably drugged me up to my eyeballs. But why? What happened?

The last thing I remember is Z’Ree. Her lips, so soft against mine. Damn, did I really kiss her? What kind of despicable creep I am? She’s a vulnerable, traumatized female and there Iwas, taking advantage of her. I’m trying to convince myself how disgusting of a human being I am but the memory of that kiss brings me so much pleasure that all of the guilt simply vanishes.

It felt so right, like this is what I was born to do. Like my sole purpose in life is to hold Z’Ree and kiss her. Not a terrible calling, if you ask me. Then again, all I did was exploit her fears and need for protection.

She kissed me back but that means nothing. For years, she’s been conditioned to be an obedient plaything and cater to her master’s every need. Of course she kissed me back. She’d probably let me go much further than that, even pretend to enjoy it. Which is why it can’t ever happen again.

Everything in me rebels against that decision but I know it’s the right one. A mean voice inside my head laughs at me, clearly convinced that my decision won’t last long, but I ignore it. I’m an intelligent man. I know it’s right to stay away from Z’Ree, to give her space and time to heal. The last thing I want is to hurt her.

Speaking of Z’Ree…what the hell happened? We kissed and then everything went…flying? It might be the head injury throbbing under the bandage on my forehead, but I remember being thrown around like a toy. I must have hit my head and lost consciousness. But what about Z’Ree? Was she hurt too?

I open my eyes a tiny bit, worried that the sharp light will pierce a hole into my brain, but someone has thoughtfully dimmed the lights. I don’t know who it was, but I owe them a huge thank you because I can look around without feeling like my head is about to burst open.

Like I guessed, I’m in the small patient recovery room in the back of the infirmary, hooked to a monitor. It’s ironic. A few days back, I talked Faelin into playing patient for me so that I could try this machine out. Now, I’m hooked up to it myself.

I pull at the sensors, tearing them away from my skin. I don’t need my vitals monitored. What I need is to make sure Z’Ree is alright.

The machine makes an angry beep, clearly thinking I just died. I half expect an angry crew member to storm into the room and scold me for scaring them, but a small hand squeezes my shoulder instead.

I whip my head to the side, momentarily distracted by the wave of nausea from such an abrupt movement, then look up at whoever’s touching me. There, by the headboard, sits the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. A mirage. An angel. Familiar purple eyes find mine and her face is made even more beautiful by the demure smile she aims at me.

My Z’Ree. More beautiful than ever.

“Wow,” I rasp, my throat drier than the Sahara desert.

Z’Ree passes me a bottle of water and helps me tip it to my mouth, my skin tingling wherever she touches me. I sip a few times to quench the worst of my thirst, then immediately ask, “Are you alright? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she whispers, word by word, as if each one is a battle.

I watch in awe, feeling absurdly proud of her. “You’re talking. That’s amazing.”