I have certainly had no family.
But…family is something I have always dreamed of. Have I not spent many nights thinking about Kim and the potential of a family between us? Of having cubs with her? Fierce little daughters and sons with Kim’s pretty hair and gentle heart. Or canny, cunning cubs that I can teach to be good fighters, but only if they wish to learn. I would never sell a cub of mine into slavery, no matter the honor it would bring my house.
I should tell Bethiah to ignore the bounty. That I will pay her more to disregard it, or to pass along information that I am dead. The Nassakth of the Askorthi Prime arena circuit is dead to all who ask. I erased all records of my departure and greased many palms to ensure that I would never be found by the authorities…but I did not think about family. I did not think anyone would look for me.
And yet here they are, putting out a bounty and asking merely to reconnect with their son.
I do not know what to think, and I want to talk to Kim, desperately. But she will be mad because I have lied again. I growl at myself, tail swishing. I must confess, and quickly, so the new wound between us can be cauterized quickly. With that thought in mind, I storm out of the room and look for Kim.
I find her, seated upon the lounge chair in the living area, where we normally watch vids together. She has the datapad in hand, her cheeks red as she reads something. When I enter, she jumps to her feet, a guilty look on her face. “For the last time, I’m not writing about you, Nassakth—”
“Kim,” I say gravely. “I have made a mistake already.”
Her face drains of color and she tosses the datapad down onto the cushions. “Oh god. What’s wrong now?”
I take her hands in mine. “I lied about the call. It was Bethiah.”
I can feel her tremble, and she does not rip her hands from my grip as I expect. Instead, she takes a steeling breath. “Okay. Thank you for telling me. Why did you lie?”
“I panicked,” I admit. “The lie came easier to me than the truth. I knew once it was done I must tell you. I hope you are not too angry.”
She gazes up at me with a troubled expression. “I’m a little irked, but thank you for telling me. Now, spit it out—what awful thing has happened now?” Her breath hitches in her throat and she gives me a terrified look. “Is the bounty hunter back?”
I squeeze her hands. “Nothing like that. He has collected the bounty. We do not need to fear him again. This is something different. It is my parents. They want to see me.”
Kim tilts her head. “I’m not following. I thought you said it was Bethiah on the call?”
I explain to her the bounty that they have put out, seeking information about me. “The bounty hunter wishes to know if she can collect. If she does, she will put me in contact with my family. I assume they are back on my homeworld, but I do not know for certain.” I swallow hard, my tail flicking. “And if I tell Bethiah no, we can disregard the entire matter.”
“Your parents,” my mate echoes. “You mean the jerks that sold you into slavery?”
“Honorable slavery—”
“No,” Kim says, bristling. She pulls her hands out of mine and points a finger at my face. “Don’t you do that, Nassakth. Don’t you defend them.”
“It is considered honorable amongst my people,” I begin lamely.
Kim cuts in, a furious expression in her gaze. She looks so angry on my behalf. “And did you feel like you were treated honorably? All those years when you starved and got nothing to show for your hard work except a shitty plant? Were you thinking, great, I’m glad I’m living such an honorable life AS A SLAVE on my family’s behalf?”
“No.”
“And were you thinking about your family’s honor when you killed your master and ran away?” She hisses these words under her breath, her expression indignant. “When you had no choice but to do so because he was going to just let you starve? Was that honorable?”
“No…”
As I watch, her hands curl into fists. “Did they ever contact you when you were enslaved? Send you presents? Tell you how proud they were of you? Be there for you in any way?”
I hang my head. “No. But they are family.”
“Nassakth.” Kim’s voice is gentle. Her hands unclench and she puts them on my arms, her thumbs moving against my skin in a comforting—and strangely erotic—touch. “They abandoned you. I don’t care if it was for honor. They profited off of your enslavement. You led a life of misery for thirty long years and had to claw your way free. And now they’re looking for you? Do they want money? Is that what this is?”