Submission Games, page 11
part #0 of Krinar World Series
My heart sinks as the crowd roars in approval at his little speech. Shit. Instead of magically fixing this mess, I managed to make it even worse.
“Please,” I begin again, not sure if there’s anything I could possibly say to turn this around. From the back of the crowd, I hear someone snicker the word xeno in my direction, and I feel my cheeks heat in shame. Is that really what’s going on here? Did I let Navur brainwash me with his magical cock, and now I’m suddenly taking a big public stand for the global enemy, irreparably ruining my reputation in my own hometown? And for what? For a man who doesn’t even want me anymore?
“Noelle,” Navur repeats again, this time with a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turn to look at him, eyes big, and he nods at me nearly imperceptibly. I let him pull me aside gently, and take a protective stance in front of me.
Half the crowd instinctively cocks their weapons, but Navur just raises his hand calmly. It’s a reserved gesture, but carries enough authority that people fall back a step or two automatically.
“I know that sometimes my people’s efforts to ensure a better future for your planet can cause some less desirable consequences in your present,” Navur begins slowly, in a voice that carries effortlessly down the street. “And while I can’t say I’m particularly moved by petty complaints at being unable to satisfy your cravings as you once could, or damage your environment without thought, I do sympathize with the trials of Buffalo Creek. For generations, your economy was built on a foundation of self-destruction. You didn’t choose it, just as you didn’t choose for that foundation to be ripped out from under you by our arrival. It’s not your fault that this area’s natural resources and your labor were being exploited, and that now you’ve been left with nowhere to turn. I understand why such a life-altering decision, taken completely out of your control, has left you with a bone to pick with my people. But your foolish attempts to inflict violence and retribution on me will help nothing. However, I have something that will help you all, and if we can all agree to play nice, I’m more than willing to share.”
The crowd, myself included, collectively hold their breath as Navur reaches into his jacket pocket, and pulls out a glass sphere about the size of a softball. I lean forward to get a closer look. The orb seems to be filled with water, and floating in it is an oblong, mossy shape, a shade of green so vibrant it almost seems to glow.
“During my time on Earth, I happened upon a new plant species while diving just off the Galapagos. This previously undiscovered plant species naturally produces twice as much energy as can be derived from coal—I’ll spare you the biology lecture. I originally intended to take this with me back to Krina, but now I believe it will serve a better purpose here. This is not the plant’s natural climate, but with the correct hydroponic system, you will be able to propagate this species easily, and in the end, your economy will be far better off than it was when your mines were still functioning. It’s all yours, along with my help, if you’ll accept it.”
I stare at the K, mouth agape. Nobody says anything, all still trying to process the crazy information we’ve just been handed. Is it true? Is Navur really doing this for us, for me, for Buffalo Creek?
He turns to look at me, and I see something unexpected in his gaze. A warmth, no, a fire. I see in his eyes that when he walked away from me yesterday, he wasn’t leaving me behind. He was biding his time, waiting to play this trump card. I know what this is, what he’s offering. It’s not a gift, it’s a trade. He saves my town, saves my family, and in return, he wants much more than a month. He wants my forever. The thought would have horrified me a few weeks ago, but now, all I feel is a sense of relief. It’s over now, for good. All the fears, the drama, the animosity, it’s all done. I’m out of excuses now. We all are.
So in front of my father, and the whole damn town, I jump into my K’s arms and kiss him deeply.
With Nav’s K tech, it takes about two months to get the hydroponics farm up and running, and another three to get the new workers trained and prepped to take over the facility on their own. In that time, Jo gives birth to a healthy baby girl, Cara, and our old hound Baby goes on to doggie heaven. Life, death, and the world keeps spinning.
Buffalo Creek hasn’t fully bounced back yet, of course, but spirits are higher than they’ve been in years. Sabine decides to stay out here for at least a little while longer, working at the farm. It probably helps that she finally worked up the guts to tell her friend Tonya about her years-long crush, and it turned out Tonya felt the same way.
After an eternity of awkward dinners, awkward breakfasts, and everything in between, there’s finally a semi-solid peace between Navur and my father. Things will never be smooth and easy there, but at least they’ve established a mutual respect. Though he insists on remaining firmly retired, Daddy was first on the scene every day, helping to build the new greenhouses and serving as a model citizen for our new liaison with the Ks. After all, if good ol’ boy Denton Keene can make peace with the alien bedding his daughter, anyone can. Mom’s been much easier to win over, swooning over gifts of bouquets and vegan pastries. That, and I think the new baby has made her extra ooey gooey.
I’m not writing food columns for Montrose anymore, but that’s because I’ve been promoted. With an incomparable inside scoop, I’ve been covering the story that has captivated America, about the small town in West Virginia suddenly farming the most efficient form of biofuel ever discovered, thanks to a most unexpected K ally. Soon, though, I’ll be writing an even more exclusive story.
Navur wraps his arm around me, and I cuddle into my cheren. We’re standing at our new favorite spot, a hill just overlooking Buffalo Creek, where the greenhouses below us glitter like diamonds in the sun. Ours was a whirlwind romance, to say the least, but what we have is undeniable. I can no longer live without him, just as I know that he will never be able to let me go. Who knew that what I was looking for all along would be exactly what I swore I never wanted?
Nav leans in for a kiss, and I meet him eagerly. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, sparked both by his kiss and the anxious anticipation of what’s to come.
Tomorrow, we leave for Krina.
Thank you for reading Submission Games! If you enjoyed Noelle and Navur’s story, I hope you consider leaving a review on Amazon. As a new author, every review really helps me out! You can also check out some of the other great stories in the Krinar World, including Domination Games, my companion novella to Submission Games, and Girls on the Run, my series of short Krinar vignettes.
To drop me a line, follow me on social media, or find out when my next story is coming out, you can visit my website at www.francescabaez.com.
Flip the page for a sneak peek from Domination Games!
I hate this damn cold.
After living in Manhattan for so long, I should be used to it, but it still gets to me. Especially after a long, exhausting day at work, the harsh chill only adds insult to injury.
Kinda wanna die, I text my best friend Noelle as I dodge an icy patch on the sidewalk. Is it summer yet?
Let’s call in sick and go to Miami tomorrow, Noelle texts back immediately, along with a sunglasses emoji.
I’m grinning as I push the door to the liquor store open with my shoulder, the bell announcing my arrival cheerily.
“What’s up, Ari,” the cashier says from behind the counter, with a friendly nod.
“Hey Dante,” I smile back. On any other day I’d stop to chat, but today I need a drink, and I need it now.
I head for the wine aisle first, unbuttoning my coat as I walk. The shelves are still decorated with drooping tinsel and faded advertisements for holiday sales—Dante really needs to clean this place up. When I pause at the red, the man at the other end of the aisle catches my eye. He’s tall, with dark coloring and sharp features, but it’s the way he turns to me that I immediately recognize as otherworldly—a predatory, animalistic movement that is just slightly too smooth to be human. Is he a Krinar? They’ve been living among us since I was a teenager, and I’m not as intimidated by their presence as the older generations are. Still, it’s unusual to be this close to one, especially in such a mundanely human setting, and I can’t tell if the goosebumps on my skin are from fear or exhilaration. Our gaze meets for a moment, his incandescent eyes holding mine for a beat too long. Then the blonde he’s with says something, and he turns back to her.
Shaking off the rich feeling of his gaze on my skin, I decide I want something stronger than merlot tonight, and head toward the whiskey. A few minutes later, the man turns the corner, pausing by the bourbon. He doesn’t look at me, but I can feel the electricity filling the few feet between us, and I wonder if he can too. Distracted, I reach for a bottle of Jack, but the glass immediately slips out of my nervous grasp. Before I can even register the disastrous trajectory of the bottle toward the floor, the man has closed the distance between us. He catches the bottle just in time, frozen mid-crouch on the floor beside me. We stay like that for a moment, me looking down at him, him looking up at me. Up close, I can see that his eyes are a vibrant shade of amber, nearly yellow. There’s no doubt about it now, this man is a Krinar. As he rises to his full height, I feel a rush of adrenaline. I’m tall, but he still towers over me.
“I believe this is yours,” he says, handing the Jack back to me. His voice is low and raspy, vibrating through me as I accept the bottle.
“Thanks,” I say, almost mumbling. Our fingers don’t brush during the exchange, and it’s not until his hands gracefully fall back at his sides that I realize I wanted them to. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I only saved your whiskey,” he says with a grin that I hope is flirtatious, cocking his head to the side.
“And booze is my life,” I respond, hugging the bottle nervously. I laugh to make sure he knows I’m joking and not actually an alcoholic, and he laughs along. My god, I can feel that laughter all through my body, deep and rich and melodious. I know I’m supposed to be afraid, any reasonable human should be afraid, but all I feel is a thrill of excitement, buzzing through me, down to my very core.
“Verit?” The blonde appears at the end of the aisle, holding a bottle of cab.
The K—Verit—gives me one last nod before turning and walking back to her. I watch him leave unabashedly, drinking in the flawless way his body moves. Once they’re gone, I pay for my whiskey and walk home, certain that I’ll never see my Krinar ever again.
To find out more about Domination Games, visit www.francescabaez.com!
Francesca Baez, Submission Games
