Host: A Tentacle Alien Science Fantasy (We Are Nepenthe Book 2) by Octavia Hyde

Author:Octavia Hyde [Hyde, Octavia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

“Notes, Rajavi!” Alyss surged away from Ea Nir, toward the platform and the other male. “And don’t intervene unless you’re sure I’m gonna die!”

Ea Nir whipped a suckered arm forward and caught at a pale, human extremity. Coiled above a knobby joint.

“I don’t know how to use this thing!” Farrokh flailed a hand at the memory surface from the far side of the exam platform, eyes round, panic flapping loose in his aura.

“Figure it out!” The woman barked at him, weight cantilevered forward against the captured leg Ea Nir drew toward himself. “I already did the hard part!”

His host strained a reaching arm in the direction of the platform, as though by grabbing hold, she’d somehow pull herself free, but Ea Nir had a second arm circling about her middle, looping tighter against such bids for momentum. Pulses of darkness blurred his periphery, fugue-black and systolic.

Catch!

“You have a fucking implant, Ward! How am—”

Hold!

“I swear on Charles Darwin’s grave, if you don’t—nngh!—pick up that fucking tablet!”

The woman launched a barrage of human words at her male counterpart while she clamped fingers on the platform’s edge. Shoved at the floor with her free leg. She kicked and yanked to dislodge the limb in Ea Nir’s grasp, but a Nepenthe arm was stronger. The latching mouths gave no ground.

“Fuck!” Farrokh fumbled the memory surface into his hands and dodged back from the platform.

Alyss scrabbled at the padded exam table, fingers digging like claws, a growl extruding through bared, white teeth.

Subdue!

Ea Nir was there, grappling the free limb, lifting its bare foot from the ground with climbing suckers.

The woman swore and wrenched against the multiplied hold, and some well-buried region of his awareness recognized this as a dance. A choreographed ‘struggle’ she engaged him in to stoke the terrifying euphoria of the rut. She’d insulted and struck him for the same cause, but here the fugue roared between his ears and blotted out all abstractions.

Here, now, only base frameworks were loud enough to inform Ea Nir’s choices. To drive his actions. A squirming, jerking female refused to be bested by a mate. There were violent limbs—he needed to catch them, restrain them before they could injure. Before they could tear and rend and bleed him into a retreat.

He had so many more arms than his host. No part of her touched the ground, now, and he caught up jointed elbows, thrashing hands. Suckers attached and prehensile muscle wrapped to immobilize. To pry wide and reveal mating entrances.

The contest had returned Alyss to the exam platform, face-down and snarling protests as he constricted her range of movement. She called him names as fluid smeared along the pink cleft.

Yes! Mate!

He needed only to implant that crucial first egg—just the one!—and the danger would pass. With incubation begun, a liana would lower defenses and receive the rest of the clutch. The implanting male might survive to greet his young.

Not liana. Woman.

There was no room for carelessness here. An alien host might attack out of sheer panic.

Human legs bent double at the knee, and Ea Nir strengthened the hobble with circling arms.

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