Chapter 15

“Mia,” Kenahi nodded to her as she shuffled into her seat. She settled herself down before the empty place setting, trying not to look intimidated.

Draven raised a brow, watching unabashedly until she was settled. He paused for several long moments and then, finally, gestured to the few men who remained standing, including Lim. Almost immediately, long serving dishes were brought out from a door in the side of the room she hadn't noticed before. The tables were served at once, steaming platters of veggies and breads, meats covered in sauces and jugs of the cool white lemonade-like drink.

Heat crawled up her cheeks knowing that the entire hall had sat for however long waiting for her. She pushed the thought away; she would have been on time if Leanne hadn't waylaid her. Her tardiness was as much that woman's fault as it was her own.

She leaned forward, aiming for the vegetables that had been placed just out of reach. Deep brown fingers beat her to it and she found herself looking up into Draven's ice blue eyes. Way up. His intense gaze focused on her, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. Her body felt magnetized toward him and it took some self-control not to lean in.

“For shared meals on Callaphria, the male traditionally serves. It is how we show our devotion to the protection and care of our women. Allow me to serve you, Mia.”

He did not wait for her permission but used the long flat utensil to slide some of the vegetables onto her plate. Around the dining hall, similar actions were being taken by all of the men. Mia took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. Tension filled her, Leanne's words still echoing in her head…the idea that they would force the women. Draven reached for a steaming slice of bread next, his bare arm brushing hers as he slid forward. Awareness shot through her, electric tingling where his skin touched hers. She caught the sharp inhale before she could embarrass herself and subtly leaned away to give him space.

Laughing blue eyes met hers as he placed the bread on the plate. Then he turned and reached for the meat.

Mia came back to herself suddenly, a small sound of distress escaping. Draven stopped his progress and turned to look at her, head tilting.

“Is there a problem, Mia?”

“No...ah...,” she fiddled with the fork in front of her. Funny how the Livarians would have forks, ones that looked so much like those on Earth. Huh. She grimaced at herself, hating how he had her thoughts so flustered. “Uhmm...this is fine,” she told him, waving at the plate before her. “I'm not very hungry.”

For the first time, Draven frowned.

“You do not eat meat?”

Mia hesitated. She didn't want to be rude; someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare the meal for them. And it wasn't that she didn't eat meat, she loved meat. What she wouldn't give for a great cheeseburger right then, with bacon. It's just she was a simple girl: beef, pork, chicken. She'd never even ventured to seafood.

“I eat meat,” she explained slowly, trying to choose words that wouldn't seem offensive, “I just don't like to eat meat without knowing what animal it came from.”

Draven considered her a moment and pointed to the platter he had been reaching for.

“This meat is from the veesa. It is a smaller rodent with long legs and scales that fluoresce a vibrant purple during their mating displays. They have the tendency to burst from one burrow to the next at top speed when being hunted, taunting the hunter. I would guess the most similar creature on earth to be a rabbit.”

A scaled bunny? Nope. She couldn't eat that.

“Ah...no thanks.”

Draven hesitated a moment, the frown lingering on his full lips before maneuvering the meat onto his own plate. When he had finished with the bread and vegetables, he turned to her.

“Is it not to your liking?”

She blinked, realizing she had been watching him intently, following the smooth grace with which he moved and a little blindsided by his profile. God, there was something wrong with her. She was kidnapped for heaven's sake, she couldn't be ogling the aliens.

She picked up her fork and began pushing the vegetables around on her plate. Beside her, Kenahi asked one of the women that she had yet to meet about her progress in the language lessons. She strained to hear the woman's answer, but it was too quiet.

“What are your thoughts on the compound so far?” Draven asked her conversationally. He had broken off a chunk of his bread and was using it to mop up some of the sauce from the meat. He popped a chunk in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I am told you've already explored the majority of it.”

Mia blinked at him. She remembered the map he'd had laid out the night before and how lovingly he had gone over it. It wasn't something she had really thought about during her morning's ambling exploration, but she could imagine that a lot of effort had gone into planning the compound's layout. Taking buildings once used for something else and remaking them into usable structures after their world had collapsed was a labor of love for certain. And if the orientation had been truthful, it had taken them years to complete it to the point they felt like they could bring women.

“It seems well thought out,” she admitted, “encompassing the necessities. There's room for growth and you've still allowed for some recreation and green space.”

A corner of Draven's lip curled upward.

“Do you have all of the women's activities reported to you? That must make for a tedious day.” She imagined the long list of lessons and hobbies.

Blue eyes held hers frankly. “No.”

The blush returned in force and Mia turned her focus to her food. So he was watching her movements. She popped a vegetable in her mouth. It was green and leafy but tasted a lot more like a fruit-an apple maybe-than lettuce. What was she to think of this development? Draven was watching her? Having her activities reported? She spared a sideways glance at him and then blushed deeper when she found him still watching her.

No. No. No. She had not garnered the interest of the prime, the leader of these people. She did not want his interest. She didn't want anyone's interest. She wanted a way back to Earth and her life, where she had been figuring things out. It hadn't been a perfect life, but it had been hers. She nodded, affirming her own thoughts to herself. She was just going to have to lose the prime's interest.

Just think boring thoughts. Realistically she knew she was reasonably attractive, but not a ravishing beauty. There were several women in the kidnapped group that would be considered far more appealing, physically. Becky, for one. So, all she had to do was be uninteresting and Draven would soon find someone else to stalk.

He was still looking at her.

“Brine has come through the surgeries well,” he told her.

She glanced at him, surprised by the change of conversation. When he offered no further explanation, she raised a brow at him.

“You put enough effort into saving his life, I thought you might want to know how he fared.”

Ah. The man who had fought the Greicher for her. Guilt worked its way beneath her skin. She had nearly forgotten him. She swallowed hard, pushing the ever-present image of the man being crushed away.

“Surgeries?” she asked.

Draven nodded, his face serious. “The impact from the fight broke several ribs and both femurs, as well as three of his vertebrate. Moving him to safety did the rest; at some, point the spinal cord was crushed. Fortunately, though, it wasn't severed. While we can still manage several of our treatments that can regenerate the crushed nerves, a severed cord is another story.”

Nausea swamped her for a moment, her mind picturing the man...Brine...slamming down again and again. She remembered watching the limp way he hung when Kenahi picked him up to transport him from the grassland. She squeezed her eyes shut.

A warm hand pressed against her lower back and something cool pressed against her lips. She took a sip of cool liquid, relieved that it was just water and not the sweet-sour juice that looked like milk.

“Forgive me,” Draven growled. “I did not think. That was not good dinner conversation.”

The warmth along her back spread, as did her awareness of his touch. His thumb made small circles against her skin. Comforting. Stimulating.

“I'm ok,” she offered a weak smile, attempting to be reassuring, and pulled away from him subtly. His touch was short circuiting her mind. At least she wasn't nauseous anymore.

Draven grunted, and though his hand remained in place for another moment, he eventually removed it. Frustration stole over his features. “I simply thought you might be relieved to know we expect him to make a full recovery,” he said, disgust with himself evident.

For a moment, Mia felt a little sorry for him. Like someone screwing up conversation on an awkward first date, it made him slightly more appealing, if that were possible. More human.

“I am glad to know,” she relented, “even if I'm a bit squeamish.”

Her words seemed to relax him slightly. He picked his fork back up, working on the vegetables piled alongside the slab of bread.

Mia knew she should eat, as well, but she found she had lost her appetite. Instead, she poked at her plate, moving everything around with her fork. The silence between them grew and she found herself scanning the room once more, checking on her friends.

Becky hadn't moved much, but her shoulders had lost the hunched look that they had taken on when Mia had first spotted her. She had turned a bit in her seat, her head tilted slightly, and seemed to be listening to something Gorth was saying. He finished speaking and laughed, the big deep laugh of a man large enough to be a dump truck, the edges of his fangs stark against his dark skin.

To Mia's surprise, Becky's lips curled upward, though it seemed that she fought it. She watched as the woman slid a shy glance upward.

“Friend of yours?” Draven asked, noting where her attention had gone.

Mia nodded.

“Rebecca Stoven, resident of Fairhope. Graduated from Auburn University with a degree in horticulture and invasive species. Three years ago, she began to fade from public record. Bank accounts, bills, rental agreements, all slipped away into someone else's name. As a student, she had written several brilliant papers about threatened species, the notes on her records seemed to indicate a bright future in the field.”

Mia squinted at him. “How do you know that?”

“We learned all the vital information of the women we chose.”

“You hacked our identities?”

Draven shrugged. “We are Livarians, hijacking tech and gathering intelligence are some of our specialties.”

It had been mentioned before, during the orientation, but somehow hearing how far they had invaded the women's privacy irked Mia.

“She would not have made it to the shelter.”

Mia frowned up at him, but his attention had caught on Becky, a frown creasing his brow. “The human system is too slow and doesn't take the protection of its women seriously enough. The man that Becky had chosen had, in the last three weeks, drained all the currency from their mutual bank and funneled the money into an offshore account using an alias. He also purchased a single ticket to northern Mexico...and a gun.”

“He was going to kill her,” Mia breathed. The words had her insides clenching with fear, and yet, there she was, safe, sitting across the room.

“We had to move our plans up three days when we discovered his duplicity. No one wanted to be too late,” the corner of his lip lifted in somewhat of a snarl. He turned to Mia. “It is good that you have befriended her. She has been alone for a very long time.”

The words struck something in Mia, and she fought against the notion that he knew how very alone she had been, as well. Even with Brian she had been lonely. Especially with Brian.

It struck her then, as the meal finished and the women began filing from the dining hall, that lonely was one emotion she hadn't felt since coming to Callaphria.