Kinn by Mina Carter

1

T’kinn was usedto those who lived within the palace storming into his healing hall at all hours. They were usually bleeding and always full of themselves. Only the elite came to him for treatment. The others were generally carried to the healing hall closer to the warriors’ barracks… or to the morgue.

This time was different.

For one thing, everyone in the group was bleeding. For another, the source of their injuries was still with them, and she was a sight to behold.

Lithe, fast, and with a mouth as profane as any warrior, the human female was kicking and scratching like a wild thing. Her short blonde hair stood out in unruly waves and her slender form was clad in well-patched and faded clothing that hung off her frame.

She snarled and twisted in the grip of the warrior who held her by one arm while trying to stay out of range of the rest of her. Judging by the deep gouges on his arms, he hadn’t been that successful.

“Why is she here?” he demanded. “I don’t treat humans.”

“Because they’re idiots. That’s why!” The female hissed, managing to twist somehow and slam a hard knee up into the midriff of the warrior who held her. This maneuver allowed her to break away from him to vault over the nearest examination bed. The crash as an equipment cart went flying was then followed by silence.

“Oh for xarth’s sake. Someone fetch it,” Kinn growled.

The warriors in the group shuffled from foot to foot but refused to meet his gaze.

“What?” he asked.

“We got her here, Healer,” one got up the courage to say. “She’s your problem now.”

“She’s the cat’s mother!” an irate voice announced unseen from the other side of the bed.

“She is a human female, not a feline. So either my translator is broken or something is wrong with her mind.”

“It’s not your translator,” one of them muttered.

“So she is defective. Again, why have you brought her to me?”

“Because there’s something funny about her. She’s not a beta. Not an omega, either. Her scent is strange. You’re supposed to be learning about the omegas. Right? This one is a mystery. We thought you might want to see her. We brought her stuff too. In the bag by the door.”

“The only mystery here is how the hell you assholes managed to conquer Earth at all. It’s fucking embarrassing. Now, is someone going to help me up or do I have to do everything myself?”

T’kinn sighed. “All of you, out. I’ll deal with this female. You can get treated by the barracks healers… if they’ll do so once they learn you were injured by an unarmed human female. She’s right. You are an embarrassment.”

Several of the warriors snarled. T’kinn snarled back and all of them backed down. “Remember where you are and who I am. Behave or bleed to death the next time you lose a fight.”

The warriors filtered out, and the door slid shut behind them. Kinn remained where he was, his arms folded.

“Are you going to come out?”

“The fuck I am. It’s nice down here. Cozy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You consider the floor of my medical bay cozy? You are definitely mentally defective.”

“And you’re an asshole, but I ain’t judging. Am I? And it’s cozy. Dry. No wind. Not filled with mud. There’s even a blanket. Ergo… cozy. Now fuck off.”

“Are you injured? Are you bleeding on my carpet right now? If so, I can treat you.” He frowned at nothing, trying to figure out what to do. This was not something he was trained for. Females should be obedient. Submissive. Gentle.

This one was none of those things.

“Who carpets a medical hall?” The question was barely audible and he assumed it wasn’t directed at him.

He decided to repeat the question since the female was clearly having trouble understanding him. “Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing.”

That, he understood. That was a warrior’s answer when they were hurt but did not wish to admit it. “If you have any injuries, I can treat them. I have food if you are hungry.” He knew the humans outside the citadel didn’t have much. If that’s where this one was from, she had to be starving.

There was a silence. If silence could be interested, this one was.

“What kind of food?”

The question made him smile and he softened his tone when he answered. “What would you like? Fruit? Meat? Perhaps something to drink, too?”

“Fruit? Fresh, actual fruit?” There was no mistaking the longing in his visitor’s voice.

“I believe you call them apples.”

“Apples. You have apples. And water?”

He considered that. She would be dehydrated no doubt, but if she was starving, she’d need more calories, and quickly. “Water, and some warm broth, too.”

“Yes. Wait. No. You could drug the broth.”

“That would not be advisable. I have no idea of your metabolism or physical attributes. I may give you too much.”

He heard a faint sound and saw a crop of blonde hair appear over the top of the bed followed by a very wary pair of eyes. “I’ll watch you make it.”

Annoyance flashed through him. This was his medical hall. He was the lord healer, not a servant for some half-starved feral human female.

“Tell me your name first.”

“Hungry.”

He frowned again. “I do not think my translator is malfunctioning, so I am assuming this is a human… joke? Yes?”

She snorted. “And I would have thought being a healer required an above average level of intelligence, but once again you aliens are proving me wrong.”

He folded his arms again, suppressing the anger that rolled through him. Only her wince as she stood upright negated it and his expression hardened.

“You let me treat you and you can eat.”

She barked a laugh. “When did this become a negotiation?”

“Since you ended up locked in my medical bay.” He smiled. It wasn’t a nice expression. It was a warning.

She shivered. “Don’t smile. Your face looks odd.”

“My face is perfectly symmetrical. There is nothing odd about it. You are injured and hungry. I am willing to treat your wounds and feed you. What is there to negotiate?”

“Plenty.”

“Name,” he repeated again.

“My friends call me Pita.”

“Pita. If you will sit on the bed, I will treat you. What is the nature of your injury?” He fell into the habits of his profession. This was familiar. Routine. Unlike the oddly striking female standing before him. She was lean and hard, her hair short, eyes bright and watchful. It didn’t match with her apparent defects. The males were right. Something was different about her.

He took a step toward her, and that’s when it hit him. Her scent. It was… wrong. So wrong that his steps faltered.

“Something wrong?” she asked, her head tilted to the side. For a moment he thought amusement shone in the backs of her eyes, but then it was gone.

“Your scent. You’re not a beta.”

She snorted. “Of course I am. Would I have made it here unmolested or even alive if I was an omega?”

Then she moved and her wince caught his attention, bringing him the rest of the way to the bed. Something was wrong with her side. He could tell by the way she moved.

“On the bed,” he ordered as she took a step back from him, fear stark in her eyes. “I can’t treat you with it between us. When I’ve treated you, you can eat.”

“Then back off, will you. I’m not good with having anyone in my personal space. Especially when that someone is an alien asshole who might turn fanged and snarly at any second.”

He growled. “Are you trying to insult me? I have more control than that. You are quite safe so long as you obey my rules.”

“I’m not good with those either. But if there’s food at the end of it, I’ll try.” The female moved warily, as if ready to bolt at the slightest movement, but she made it to the bed.

“You have my word.”

The look she gave him was dark and humorless. “What’s that worth?”

This time, he couldn’t hold back his anger. His hands fisted at his sides and he bared his teeth. “Everything. I am H’thor clan. We are males of honor. If I say a thing, that is what will happen. Now get on the bed and let me treat that wound.”

She laughed without humor. “One of you assholes gave me this in the first place,” she threw back and he watched as she tried to hoist herself up on the bed.

The pain flaring across her face was too much for him and he moved in a heartbeat, lifting her carefully. Touching her hit him like a ship at full throttle. For all her sass and bluster, as soon as he touched her, he realized she was far frailer than she appeared. Delicate and fragile.

“Hey! Back off, asshole!” she ordered, her voice as strong as before, but the blow against his shoulder was little more than a tickle. Now that he was closer, he could see the lines of fatigue around her eyes and bracketing her lips.

“I’m a healer,” he reminded her, trying to moderate his voice to less of a snarl. “Let me heal you.”

“Why?” she asked, her body so tense it was as if she were holding herself together by will alone.

“Because that wound looks serious and I have never lost a patient. I am not starting with you. Lie down. Let me look at it.”

“Look. Don’t touch.”

“You are the bossiest female of any species I have ever met. Including the Jatari.”

“They didn’t want you to touch them either?” To his relief, the female did as he instructed. She reclined on the bed and moved her arm out of the way so he could look at her injury.

“Their skin secretes acid. As attractive as they are, touching them is not something any sane male would do.”

The wound was shallow but long, and it was already showing signs of infection.

“And I didn’t mean why would I let you. I meant, why do you want to heal me? I’m just another disposable beta. If I die, that’s one less mouth to feed.”

He didn’t look at her as he started tending her wound, ignoring her previous insistence that he not touch her. She didn’t protest again. “You are not a beta. Your scent is wrong.” If he stuck with the facts, with logic, he was on familiar ground. “Not omega, not beta, which means you are an aberration.”

She snorted. “Gee, thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear.”

“No, no, you have it wrong.” He looked up to catch her gaze. “Genetically you could be unique. I need to know why it happened. What you are.”

“I told you what I am.”

He cocked a brow. “You are not a beta.”

It took only a few minutes to finish cleaning and dressing her wound. Then he held up an injector. “This will help with the pain and prevent infection. That’s all, Pita. Do I have your permission to administer it?” It grated on him to ask, but he needed to build a rapport with this female.

“You… you are asking permission?” She blinked, her mouth opening and closing again.

“I am. Don’t tell anyone, though. I have a reputation to consider.” And he didn’t want anyone knowing he’d asked permission from a female.

“Yes. You have it. And uh, Pita. That’s not my name. That’s a description really. My name is Serena.”

He gave a small smile as he administered the painkiller. “Serena. I am T’kinn.”

“Taken?” She snorted. “Your parents really didn’t like you. Did they?”

“My father was not fond of me, no.” He shrugged. “The feeling was mutual. My friends call me Kinn. Would you prefer to use that?”

“We’re not friends.”

“You are a human female and I am an alpha. We are not friends, no. So, you can call me T’kinn if that is your wish.”

She scowled up at him. “You’re difficult.”

“And you are not like any human female I have ever encountered. Are there more like you?”

She snorted. “You have no idea. So, Kinn, you promised me food. I held up my end of the bargain…”

It pleased him that she used his informal name. It shouldn’t. But it did. “You did indeed. I will fetch the food, as promised.” He locked eyes with her, noting for the first time that her eyes were a brilliant green. “I keep my word.”

He brought the fruit and water over immediately. He kept fruit on hand as a snack while he worked, which was most of the time. The broth took a little longer for the system to prepare, and by the time he brought it to her, she had taken several large bites of the apple and was making tiny noises of pleasure that made his cock twitch.

“Make sure you don’t eat too much at once,” he warned her, covering his reaction with his usual brusque manner. “If you haven’t eaten much recently, you could make yourself ill.”

“No shit,” she threw back, but he noted she watched the bowl of broth like a korpa preparing to strike. As he set it on the trolley by the bed, he altered the bed’s position so she was sitting up.

“I can feed myself!” she argued as he settled on the edge of the bed and offered her a spoonful of broth.

“You are weak. I don’t want any spilled on my carpet,” he argued.

“I just managed to kick the ass of some of your finest warriors. I’m not weak!”

He held out the spoon to her again. “Those were not the H’thor’s finest. They are young and still in training. And if you had beaten them, you would not be here now. You would be…” he paused. “Where did they find you?”

She huffed in frustration and leaned forward to take the broth. Then she moaned and closed her eyes as it reached her tongue. “Soup should not taste this good.”

He was already thinking about what other foods he could provide for her. What would provoke that sensual response again? He’d have to give it some thought. After all, she would be staying with him for the foreseeable future. She might be the key to unlocking the differences between these human omegas and the others they’d created and used on other worlds.

“They found me a few days from here. The well in my village ran dry. We all had to move on or die. I needed water. I got desperate and then got caught.” She shrugged. “Asshole aliens just can’t leave us alone.”

He watched in concern as she leaned back against the pillows after only a few mouthfuls of the broth. Her body was lax and her eyelids heavy as she watched him. He hadn’t added a sedative to the medication he’d given her, but sometimes food and the cessation of pain was enough to tip the fatigued into sleep.

After putting the bowl on the trolley, he pulled the blanket up over her and reached for the apples she’d tucked in against her side.

She moved so fast he didn’t have time to move out of striking distance before the spoon he’d just set aside flashed down in an arc and slammed into the back of his hand.

“Mine.”

He hissed and then snarled, snatching the spoon from her hand. She didn’t try and hold on to it. In fact, he wasn’t sure she was really aware she’d lashed out at all.

Could it have been instinct? Even exhausted and hurt, had the little human had enough strength of will to try and protect her small stash of food?

“The apples are yours. No more spoons for you, though. Sleep, little human. When you wake, I have questions for you.”