I don’t know. What do you think? About making Dani a Korthan? If anyone can do it, it’s you. I like her. I know she likes you. Maybe you can make her a Korthan.
Heart racing, she bounded down the ramp, K’vyn’s attention focused on something in front of him that looked like a small glass box.
That’s okay, you don’t have to answer. Strong, silent, type. She likes that.
Blood rushed to her face, head becoming light.
The Korthan turned to the pup, the corner of his mouth turned up as he gazed at the hellhound. Pace slowing, something in her stirred at that affectionate expression.
There was very little savagery about him. Sometimes, though, she could see it. Lurking beneath the surface. He had it in him. This man would fiercely protect what was his.
K’vyn knelt next to C’hase. “I know you’re just talking away, Little Mogha, but I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
The pop of a stick underfoot had their heads snapping up. Crap—
The Korthan’s expression vanished, becoming unreadable.
“You don’t understand what he’s saying?” she said. Filled with relief, tense shoulders relaxed.
He stood up, turning away from her to continue his task.
“You should not be able to understand him either.” His tone was disappointment.
“Why? Because I’m not a Korthan?”
She glanced down at C’hase, his antennae going up. Apparently, the mogha seemed to think she could become a Korthan.
“Exactly because you’re not Korthan,” K’vyn said. “That bond is sacred. How an Invader is blessed with it is sacrilege.”
Dani stiffened. Invader? Sacrilege?
But there was something else underlying that statement.
“Are you jealous?”
“Yes,” he whirled around, admission surprising her.
Expression softening, his shoulders slumped.
“I dearly desire a mogha companion,” he said. “Every Korthan does.”
Dani could almost feel his words, a longing so deep it was tangible. She blinked. Was she detecting his emotions?
“A mogha can only have one master companion its entire life. C’hase is fully bonded to you. Only you can understand him and you’re the only biped he can understand. When he talks, it just sounds like barking to everyone else.”
Dani sat on the log by the fire. No wonder nobody else heard the hellhound speaking at the lab.
“So, what was he saying?” K’vyn asked next, eyebrows raised.
Dani’s jaw felt tight. “Oh, he’s just barking away, like a hellhound does.”
Sitting stock still, K’vyn said, “You shouldn’t call him that. A mogha is the noblest of noble creatures.”
“What? Calling him a hellhound? He doesn’t mind.” Scratching vigorously behind his ears, the mogha’s back leg thumped the ground.
“That’s because he probably doesn’t even know what you’re talking about. He needs a guide.”
Dani blinked. “A what?”
“Someone to teach him what it means to be a mogha.”
As C’hase thumped some more, she ran her fingers through the increasing orange fur along the back of his neck. Why was C’hase’s fur turning orange? It was just about the same color as the flowers all around them.
She could use a guide too—
Bending down, K’vyn plucked an orange blossom at his feet, standing to hand it to her.
“C’hase’s fur will be completely orange. I think his paws and antennae will be white.” He studied the mogha as he rubbed his chin. “Tip of his tail too. Though the feathers will be orange.”
How did he know what she was thinking?
Still holding the flower out to her, Dani took it, fingers brushing against his. Tingling warmth spread through her hand.
K’vyn glanced at his fingers, rubbing them together before dropping his arm. Did he feel that tingling sensation too?
“Moghas have vibrant colorations,” he continued. “Blues, violets, yellows, whites.”
But C’hase was always dark gray. Far from vibrant, she assumed as a predator, he’d need to have a dark color for hunting.
K’vyn leveled a gaze on her. “Their fur turns gray in prolonged captivity.”
She blinked. Was he reading her mind?
But the Korthan’s words filled her with sorrow, weighing down her arms. How long was C’hase in captivity?
Maybe K’vyn could return C’hase to his kind.
The presence of the otherness seemed to swell. It grew by the day. Was it something to do with this Korthan?
Are you reading my mind? She thought at him.
The presence vanished.
Wind picking up, K’vyn kept his composure long enough to return to his ship. Once inside, he leaned with his back against the bulkhead, head in hand, still tingling with Dani’s soft touch.
He was reading her mind.
But he swore she was asking questions about C’hase out loud. Was the bond that strong? If he denied it, could he will it to go away? Did he want to?
L’iza appeared in front of him and he dropped his hand, expelling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“A mogha is bonded to a human,” he said. “The mogha is keeping a molk as a pet. The molk has a chicken as a pet. And I seem to be bonded to the human.”
L’iza smirked. “I would say stranger things have happened, but—”
“Literally no stranger things have happened.”
The wind outside raged, niggling concern heavy in his chest. Would Dani have been better protected in his ship?
7
Piercing screech echoing around her, something buffeted her body, surface beneath her trembling.
Eyes opening, mind groggy with sleep, a giant blur hovered above. Another shriek echoed, zapping Dani into full wakefulness, details of the blur becoming sharper as her eyes quickly focused on long, pointed, gnashing teeth.
She shot from her bunk, grabbing the blaster from beneath her pillow as the hellbat dove at her, flapping wings knocking it from her grasp—
Yapping and barking sounded in the air. Disappointment wove through him. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t understand a mogha.
There was a yelp, followed by a howl. The mogha sounded young, just a pup.
Something grabbed his leg, shaking back and forth—
K’vyn’s eyes jerked open, pulling his leg out of the grasp as he shot upright.
At the foot of his bed, C’hase trotted to the door and back again, yapping loudly.
L’iza materialized at the door. “The mogha was scratching at the hatch. He seems distraught, so I let him in.”
C’hase grabbed his foot between his teeth, tugging twice before letting go and running to the doorway again.
Did the wind die down? It usually lasted throughout the night. And the hellbats only came on windless nights.
As if to answer his question, a shriek pierced the air. That sounded close by—
Jumping from his bunk, clad only in his underwear, K’vyn raced to the hatchway.
Dark clouds filled the sky. A quick look at the fire and his stomach fell. Only smoking coals remained, not enough to ward off the winged—
Another screech and an ugly giant dove at something on the ground by the freighter.