I got what he meant. Despite the empathy link from the smells or common sense, he didn’t get it.

Just like a man.

“I mean… this is all very new.”

“Then ask me my love. What would you like to know?”

“But you aren’t Omega… uh, Femeni.”

“No,” he said quietly. “But those that I love are.”

“Did your Oma…” My voice trailed off.

“And those that aren’t around?” He asked.

I nodded. “Did they get… food issues?”

He repeated my words. “Oh yes,” he said with a slight smile. His fingers continued to caress my stomach as if he were trying to lend me his strength. “Zan had ‘food issues’. He couldn’t keep any fruit down. Even the smell of growing Juku would drive him into the bathroom. I had to replant the trees.”

His gaze went off to the side as if he remembered. I had no ill to his former love, but I know if he didn’t die, I wouldn’t be here. I was his mate because someone passed away. It was a strange feeling. Like acknowledging something yet not being sure how to feel about it.

“He craved what you would call seafood. Although it’s simply ‘food’ to us.”

“Lucky,” I said even as I fought the rumble in my stomach. That was something I couldn’t keep down. I frowned at the thought of eating fish, shrimp, or any of the local equivalents. My head shook quickly, and he got the message I didn’t want to talk about that.

“I didn’t think this is how we would spend this time together,” I said.

His voice turned hollow, “This will not take long. The Ryba will pay for what they have done.”

I was in bed, but I felt my shoulders tensed and rise. “You don’t know if they did that.”

His eyes closed, and he breathed in deeply as if controlling his anger. This was new to me too. I’m a man and never expected I would have to worry about my mate in that way. Sure there were women that beat up guys. My sister Becky was one of them.

Although, I asked for it a few times.

Still, I knew he would never hurt me, but he could. Somehow that made him even more remarkable. I suppose it’s easy for a good-natured man to never rise to anger. What about a warrior who continually had to control his feelings?

Does that make him the better man?

“It is not my intent to speak to you as if you were a ‘Stupid Femeni’.”

The sting of my repeated words wasn’t pleasant, but I let them pass.

“You are the son of a farmer. While that is the vocation of Ryba, I do not hold it against you.”

“Gee Thanks.”