Odin (Alien Adoption Agency #5) - Tasha Black Page 0,2

to see that the woman had repositioned herself to shield the whelp from the bumps so he could sleep better.

She would be a good mother. That much was already apparent.

A little of his anger dissipated.

Being pulled off active duty and saddled with a whelp to guard was hard enough. But he’d expected to treat it like any other assignment. Instead, the little thing had immediately weaseled its way into his heart.

He still wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was so small, younger than Zane and Rexx’s charges. All it did was eat and sleep and make waste that was shockingly pungent for one so tiny.

But to Odin it seemed that his useless whelp was different from any other whelp in the galaxy, and he had grown accustomed to its warm weight against his chest and the strange expressions on its small face.

Knowing he had to hand it off to someone else had haunted him for weeks.

“He’s lovely,” the woman said softly. “What is his name?”

“Colton,” Odin heard himself say before he could think better of it.

He clamped his mouth shut immediately, unable to believe he had blurted out his secret name for the child at the least provocation.

“Colton,” she echoed, her voice still soft with wonder.

Odin closed his eyes against a surge of emotion so strong it was almost like pain.

“Have you been with him since the beginning?” she asked, oblivious to his anguished battle with himself.

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s Imberian, right?” she asked. “Did his coloration shift to match yours?”

“Yes,” he admitted, impressed that she had done her homework. “The Invicta made a terrible mistake long ago that destroyed the gentle people of Imber. The Intergalactic Council has given us permission at last to try to right that wrong as best we can by using Imberian DNA to grow whelps in pods. Each whelp will be guarded by an Invicta soldier until he or she reaches maturity. Then the babes will inherit the planet of Imber and its rich mineral resources.”

“Until maturity?” she asked, looking up at him in surprise.

Apparently, she hadn’t done all of her homework.

“Yes,” he said. “Twenty standard years for an Imberian.”

“So… you’ll live with us?” she asked, her eyes wide with alarm.

So she did sense the mate bond.

And she didn’t crave it either.

Something about that annoyed him, but he wasn’t about to let her see it.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t interfere with your lifestyle. I just have to make sure nothing happens to the boy.”

She nodded and gazed down at the child again, her face softening with love.

A twinge of jealousy shot through him, though of course he was not jealous of the whelp.

It was just strange, that was all. Women usually desired Odin. He was accosted at every port by them - both professional and amateur lovers, happily vying for a place in his bed.

Why did this one not blush and blink at him like the others? She should be honored to serve his needs through the bond. She should beg for his touch.

He tried to keep himself from picturing her begging. No good would come of that. He stole a glance at her, to see if she noticed any of his frustration.

But the woman studiously kept her hands and eyes to herself and they traveled on, so slowly Odin feared the day would never end.

He pushed the thoughts of her aside and tried to picture Adyxx in his mind, so as to stave off the waves of need inspired by the woman’s proximity.

Adyxx would have been twenty-five standard years of age by now. Maybe he would have been an Imberian guard now as well. More likely, Odin’s apprentice would still have been serving on active duty. The boy had such promise.

A cracking sound and a terrific jolt brought Odin out of his thoughts. The ox-yak stopped pulling and took a bite of the blue flowers growing in the grasses beside the cart.

“No,” Odin moaned.

But the sideways listing of the cart made it obvious what had happened. A wheel had cracked.

Liberty hopped off the cart with Colton still snuggled in her left arm. Odin followed her and was surprised to see her crouched over the broken wheel, observing it keenly.

“Are you going to fix it?” He said jokingly. He could tell from her iridescent black hair that she came from money. That kind of modification didn’t come cheap. She wouldn’t know how to fix a wooden cart wheel.

“My husband and I changed plenty of wheels back on Lymay-2 when he was