Page 17 of Alien Naga's Prize
“Nothing is hidden from my wife. She simply needs to ask.” I grin.
Jenna purses her lips and gazes into the water before she slowly, slowly dips her toe into it.
I can’t look away. I can’t move, can’t do anything. Watching her leg stretch and the toe sweep just below the surface is something I will never forget. My throat is dry, my tongue sweeping my lips in a desperate attempt to keep my body in check.
“You can go now…” Jenna looks up, then she wobbles on the edge, her arms swinging before she falls backwards into the pool with a tremendous splash and a short scream which is cut off by the water.
For an instant, she rises, then as suddenly, she drops back below the surface, her hands clawing at it before she disappears beneath the waves she has created.
My little sunray cannot swim. I dive in after her, hoping it’s not too late.
JENNA
Am I dead? I’m warm, comfortable, and wet. None of those things are what I expected from the afterlife, but then I didn’t expect to die.
“Little sunray?” Azul’s deep, resonant voice has me opening my eyes.
I’m cradled in his arms, snuggled deep in his coils and I’m…naked.
“What happened?” I gasp, rasping out a cough which could put one of the mud larks onBritanniato shame.
“Why did you not tell me you were unable to swim?” Azul asks with pain in his voice.
“I didn’t think I’d have to…and anyway, when would I ever learn to swim? There wasn’t exactly a need for it in my life.”
“Why did you want to bathe?”
“Because I haven’t had the opportunity before,” I say, attempting to sound angry but instead sending myself into yet another coughing fit.
Azul shifts position, his coils running smoothly over my skin. I have to admit it feels nice.
“So, you’ll do anything for a new experience?”
“I’d rather not die.”
“I’d prefer not to have to save you every time either,” Azul says. “Perhaps next time you can inform me whether you have experience or not.”
“You…saved me?”
“Did you think I’d let you drown?” he says, hurt infusing his voice. “I did marry you after all.”
“For better or for worse,” I say, shifting my position as there’s something hard under my buttocks.
Azul furrows his brow.
“It’s ancient human…mating…ceremony words,” I explain. “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.”
Azul looks contemplative. “I rather like these words. Better than those in the Glycon ceremony.”
“What do they say in your ceremony?”
“We promise not to eat each other.”
“Oh.”
I wriggle again as the lumps get harder.
“Little sunray, if you continue to behave in this fashion, I will not be responsible for the mating which follows,” Azul says through gritted teeth.