The Rogue Captain (The Lost Planet 6) - Page 5




After she settles, I finish up my edible food and sit in the captain’s chair. The scent of her rations are stinking up my ship. I glower at her as she eats the questionable looking food she brought from the prison. Earth II food. It was dry and hard. She added a little water and it grew. Rekking grew! I stick to my rations I have stored on the Mayvina and try not to gag each time she slurps up the gray looking mush.

“Stop staring at me, loser.”

“I’m staring at that abomination you keep putting in your mouth.”

Her eyes—blue like the hottest part of a fire—flame as she spoons another helping of goop into her waiting mouth. “I’ve already had one abomination in my body. Seems I’m getting used to these wretched things.”

At this, I smirk.

Right.

She can lie through her blunt, white teeth that are smeared with flecks of black from her horror rations, but I know the truth.

We mated and it was amazing.

I was amazing.

Her body sang with each touch and caress.

“You’re doing it again. Gross. I’m going to lose my lunch.” Her face sours only now after eating that nasty porridge for the past fifteen minutes.

“Doing what?”

“Thinking about how great you are.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

I wink at her because we both know I am.

She snarls back at me. “We may never make it back to the Facility.”

Waggling my brows at her, I lean forward. “Oh yeah, shooting star? What’d you have in mind? A little mating on the control panel. I could lean you back so you could watch the stars as I—”

“No, asshole,” she growls. “Because I’m going to kill you.”

“Not possible.”

Her nostrils flare at my smug tone.

“What?” I say, shrugging. “You’re you. Small. Thin. Breakable.” My lips curl into a devilish grin and I flash my fangs at her. “And I’m me.”

“Your cockiness will get you killed one day,” she seethes.

“If they can catch me.”

“Maybe they will just poison you.”

“I don’t think a sabrevipe—” My words are cut short when she flings a spoonful of her disgusting slop sauce at me.

I gag and she cackles.

“Get it off!” I swipe at my face, gagging again, when she heaves the whole bowl at me. It splatters down the front of my minnasuit.

Disgust roils through me and my stomach turns. I launch out of the chair, ignoring her cackles, as I rush down the hall to the lavatory. Quickly, I shed my minnasuit and boots before all but falling into the shower stall. I mash at the knobs until cold water rains down on me, chasing off the disgusting stench.

Anger surges up inside of me.

What is her rekking problem anyway?

I proved I was an incredible lover. I’m the only one who can fly a ship with such finesse. And, luckily for her, I happen to be the most handsome of all the morts. If anything, Willow should be begging for my cock.

That’s what all the other females do.

I’ve seen the way Lyric’s eyes track Hadrian’s rump when he walks by. She blazes with need. And Grace? She practically throws herself on her mates. Two of them! Aria looks at Breccan like he’s the sun. Emery adores Calix. And Molly…my mate’s mother, smiles ever so sweetly at Draven.

Why doesn’t Willow smile at me that way?

She growls and glares and hisses.

Even after I’ve been inside her.

Her body quivered at the pleasure I delivered, but her mouth speaks heinous things to me. Her mouth also eats heinous things.

I shudder at that thought, scrubbing my face with more cleanser just in case. Once I’m clean, I find a loose-fitting pair of trousers I took from the prison. They’re orange like the sunset and have their language that I can’t read stamped on the side. I grab my minnasuit and walk it down to the machine that is like a mini decontamination bay. I’ll let it sit for a while, because my suit is most definitely contaminated.

Without my boots or a shirt, I saunter back into the navigation bay. Thankfully, Willow has cleaned up the mess. However, she’s sitting in the captain’s chair like she runs this ship.

I can handle a lot from this woman, but not this.

I’m the master of this universe.

The one who’ll one day catch a shooting star.

My mind drifts to the past, when I was a young mortling.

“Mama!” I cry out, pointing out the window and into the night. “I want to go there!”

She stops her humming and looks up from the pot she’s been stirring. “The white planet?”

It’s small and you have to squint, but it’s my favorite one in the dark, twinkling sky. “Yes! Like Papa!”

Her smile falters and she looks away. I know she misses Papa. We both do. He went on a mission on the Lawanda in search of other planet life, but never came back. I keep asking when he will, but her tears spill and she shakes her nog. I don’t believe her and where she said he really went. I think he’s still out there flying farther than the eye can see.

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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