by Ella Maven
“What’s wrong?” She cried in my arms, her voice wavering as she bounced with my strides.
“The horde,” I gritted out. “They’re coming for us.”
“Wait, what?” She craned her neck behind us. “The horde—?” Her voice dropped out as the buzzing increased. “Holy shit!” she shrieked. “What the fuck?”
I didn’t look back, but I could see their shadow blotting out the sun as they careened toward us.
“Oh my God!” Reba cried. “Oh my God! I’m sorry!”
This wasn’t her fault. This was mine. I hadn’t explained the planet’s dangers. I’d failed her by flecking her cunt instead of educating her.
My only objective was to reach the numa patch that was near our hut. Hunners hated the stuff and wouldn’t penetrate the vines. I wouldn’t be able to fit under the numa dome, but Reba would. I wasn’t sure how I’d fend off the horde from killing me, but I’d deal with that next.
I burst into the clearing and spotted the numa ahead of us in a dome-like set of twisty vines. I tossed Reba inside, wincing as I heard her oomph as she hit the ground. Bruises were okay. Hundreds of hunner stings were not. I turned at the last minute to see the horde descending, stingers aimed at me. I sucked in a breath and let my machets loose. I planned to cut down as many as I could and hoped I was still standing afterward.
I crossed my arms in front of my throat and braced for the first sting. I registered the sound of leaves rustling above me, and then a tangle of vines crashed down over my head. I fell to my back, barely able to see through the dense weave, but I heard the hunner bodies hitting the vines, pinging off and flying away with a vicious buzz that vibrated the air like a dozen bikes. I peered through the vines to watch the horde circle overhead, over and over, before giving up and speeding off to return to their nest without vengeance for the death of one of their own.
Soft sobs reached my ears, and I rolled onto my stomach. The vines on top of me were heavy, and when I plucked at them with my fingers, I realized they were woven together in a pattern. “What the fleck?” I muttered. How had a handmade shield of numa landed on me at the moment I most needed it?
I heaved it off of me and raced toward the numa dome, where Reba sat inside, knees tucked to her chest. “Mate,” I called,” Come to me. It’s all right now.”
“I’m so sorry!” she wailed. “They came after us because I killed one, right?” She plunked her head down on her knees and her shoulders shook. “It’s all my fault.”
I shook my head and reached through a small break in the vines toward her. “It’s my fault for not telling you about them. Come out now, they’re gone.”
She lifted her head and sniffed. Her eyes were rimmed with red. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said.
On a shaky crawl, she made her way out of a gap in the vines. As soon as she was free of the dome, she flung herself at me, wrapping her arms so tight around my neck that I had trouble taking a deep breath. “I thought they were going to kill you.”
I patted her back, not wanting to worry her so I didn’t confess I thought they would kill me too. I peered up into the trees, still wondering how that net of numa had dropped on me.
The thing about Drixonians was that we camouflaged well. The pattern of our scales blended into the sky and leaves. We often went to the trees to hide from Rizar packs or pivars. But as a Drixonian, I knew what to look for, and my eyes settled on the barest hint of a broad blue-scaled back. I went still. “Show yourself!” I called out.
The body twisted, only slightly, and hair brushed the muscled back. I sucked in a breath as a low growl started in my throat. The only Drixonian who had hair like that, with two white streaks flowing from each temple, was the one Drixonian I never thought I’d see again. “Drak,” I whispered.
The white-streaked head turned. One wild black eye met mine, and then he was gone. I didn’t see him but could track his progress by shaking leaves as he leapt from tree branch to tree branch away from us, until he was no longer detectable.
“Did you see something?” Reba asked, squinting into the trees. “What is a Drak?”
What is a Drak? Drak was a betrayor. Daz had kicked him out many cycles ago. I was surprised he was still alive. Drixonians didn’t do well alone. Even those who went lonas had communications with clavases to trade with, like our friend Tark.
But Drak… Drak was alive. And he’d saved my life.
I didn’t know what to think about that. He’d always been a quiet one who kept to himself, but we’d been close. Friends. His betrayal to our clavas had cut me deep. I still remembered the rotation when Daz stripped him of his tag and closed the gates behind him. He’d been a strong warrior, one of the best.
I swallowed and shook my head. “It’s… it’s nothing.” The words felt wrong in my throat. I pushed the thought of Drak out of my head and focused on Reba. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m so sorry—”
“I said it wasn’t your fault. Let’s get back to the hut, gather our things, and we’ll spend that time on a little bit of a lesson about the dangers of Planet Torin. Sound good?”
She heaved a sigh and brushed at her wet cheeks. “I never liked school, but then I never felt like my grades were life or death. You bet I’ll be taking notes.” A bark sounded and Luna burst into the clearing, making a running leap at Reba’s arms. “You found us!” she squealed, rubbing her face in the pup’s fur. She glanced up at me. “Would those wasps have hurt her?”
“We call them hunners and no. They don’t sting welfs.”
“Oh, thank God,” Reba nuzzled Luna. “Because if they took away my man and my pup, I’d be on a warpath.” She marched ahead of me toward the hut, muttering to herself and talking to Luna. I smiled, liking that Reba called me her “man” and almost eager to see what her warpath would look like.
Reba
I didn’t have many possessions. I only kept my Earth clothes to use as scraps because I wouldn’t be wearing them again. I had the boots and clothes from the hut’s storage, and I’d fashioned a pack from some of the furs. Inside the pack went my old clothes, a small canteen of qua and a few berries.
I remembered thinking a month ago I wanted to downsize my belongings and go for a more minimalist lifestyle—the result of watching too many tiny home videos on YouTube—but this wasn’t what I’d had in mind.
I glanced around our hut, the place where I’d come to trust Ward, give him my body, and have a full conversation with him. As much as it’d never felt like home, it was the closest I’d come on this planet to my own place. So far.
Ward gave me an odd look when I lovingly ran my hand over the door. I shrugged. “Just saying bye to our first place.”
He shot me a funny smile and then grabbed my hand.
Ward’s pace was punishing, but Luna kept up pretty well with her stubby legs, though it wasn’t long before she grew tired. Ward draped her over his shoulders and held her front paws with one massive hand so she wouldn’t fall. She seemed happier that way, her ears and tongue bouncing as we walked along. Once or twice, he’d let her down, and she’d go hunt her food before returning to us with a bloody puppy grin.
I tried to maintain his pace, but Ward’s strides covered twice as much ground as me. I knew he had to walk slower for me, and I felt bad about it, but I wasn’t Wonder Woman. By the time the sun began to drop, and Ward looked for a place to rest for the night, I was dead on my feet. He found a secluded area mostly hidden by a downed tree. Too tired to do much but fall headfirst into a bed of furs, I was asleep in seconds, Luna tucked under my arm.
I woke up warm. Really warm, and a soft vibration nearly lulled me back to sleep. Something felt good between my legs, and I reached down, my fingers wrapping around a ridged horn. My eyes flew open to find Ward’s head between my legs, his tongue steadily lapping at me as if he was cleaning maple syrup off a plate. I sucked in a breath and squirmed. The vibrations increased and Ward’s head moved faster, his tongue snaking
among all my folds to swirl around my clit. He sucked, and I cried out, arching my back. His fingers joined in, sliding into my slick core and rubbing along the spot inside me that had me seeing double.
“Fuck, Ward,” I murmured, bucking up into his mouth, seeking the climax I knew was going to be great. Amazing.
He sucked faster, and his fingers scissored.
I came on a wordless shout, thrusting against him as his tongue worked me through the orgasm. The final tremors still coursed through my body when he pulled away on a growl, flipped me onto my stomach and pulled me up onto my knees.
He entered me in one smooth thrust, forcing the air from my lungs so I fought for breath with my face smashed against the furs. I came up onto my elbows as he began to fuck me. Hard. His balls slapped my clit and each time he bottomed out inside of me, he growled like an animal.
I fucking loved it. I loved how hot I made him, and I loved how well he worked my body. There was nothing like getting fucked by Ward. Not on Earth at least.
He gripped my hips and used my body, sawing in and out of me with that massive pierced cock. It raked over my g-spot, so lights exploded behind my eyes. I shuddered and shook as another orgasm built inside of me. Just when I wasn’t sure I could get there again, he blanketed my back with his massive body and whispered in my ear. “This cunt belongs to me.” He squeezed a breast, raking his claw over my nipple, and bit down on my shoulder.
I shrieked like a madwoman and came like a rocket until my sounds devolved into whimpers. Ward didn’t stop fucking me through it all, just continued to plunder my depths again and again until he came on a roar, shouting “Mine!” into the tree canopy above us.
He collapsed nearly on top of me, and while my lungs protested, I didn’t have the energy to tell him to roll off me. Eventually he did, falling onto his back. His great chest heaved as he gathered me and tucked me into his side, lips plucking at the hair on top of my head. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he said softly.
“Yeah, I mean, no complaints here,” I said. “Which brings me to an important question. If you’ve never been with a female before, how come you’re so good at this.”
He lifted a nub and peered down at me. “Good? Only good?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, great. Amazing. The best. A god among men. Happy?”
He smiled, and I was continually amazed at how a simple upward shift in muscles transformed his whole face. “Drixonian males have always been known for their sexual prowess. The elder males who survived the virus made sure we were still taught all the techniques to pleasure females.”
“Wow,” I muttered. “Well if I ever meet an elder, I’ll shake his hand.”
“Shake his hand?”
“It’s a form of greeting for humans.”
“So, it’s a nice thing.”
“Yes, I would say it can be a form of respect too,”
“Ah,” he settled back and lifted his gaze to the sky. “Gestures of respect I understand.”
With some insistent prodding from Ward, I roused from the warmth of the furs to begin our trek back to his home. He’d told me once we reached the perimeter of his territory, we’d be spotted, as one of his friends named Nero was some sort of tech wizard and had eyes in the sky so to speak. So Big Brother-ish. When I’d made that comment, Ward had looked at me funny, but I’d waved him off because I wasn’t in the mood to deliver an American history lesson.
He, however, was in the mood for a planet Torin biology lesson. He felt guilty over the hunner attack, which I thought was ridiculous. How could he possibly prepare me for every danger on a whole planet? I wouldn’t have known where to start on Earth. But he explained about hunners and how when one died, it sent a signal to its nest for them to attack. And by attack, they swarmed and stung until the enemy was so longer moving. I shuddered. What a terrible way to go.
Numa, though, was a deterrent for them—something about the smell of the vine, Ward said. He showed me evidence of an old nest in the ground, and how the hunners made a tube-like entrance and that was a warning to stay away.
“You also have to watch for pivars,” he explained as he helped me over a fallen log.
“What the hell are pivars?” I couldn’t step over the log in one stride like he could, so I climbed on top and jumped off it.
“They probably come up to your chest. Meat-eaters, so they’d want you for dinner. Nasty, fast things that move in packs. They can’t climb, so if you see them coming, get up a tree quick.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Does everything here move in packs?”
“Are animals solitary on Earth?”
I twisted my lips to the side. “No, not many. I guess I just prefer to tackle your nasty monsters one at a time. What else do I need to look out for?”
“Salibri, although you’re not their typical prey, so they’d most likely only attack if they feel threatened or if you stand between them and their young. They have four legs, short ears, and big fangs. This pack is made with salibri fur.”
It was a thick hide, massive, with mottled stripes. I decided I never wanted to see a salibri in person. “So, have you ever killed a salibri? For its fur?”
He nodded. “We are in the warm half of our sun-cycle now, but in the cold months, we need the furs to stay warm.” A small smile twisted his lips and his eyes took on a glazed look. “My brother and I are a team. I’m the tracker and he’s the one who makes the kill.”
“The tracker?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “How do you think I tracked you down, little human?”
I remembered now; he said he’d been able to detect my singular trail when I’d been taken by the Rizars. “And your brother?”
“We have solar guns, left over from our service to the Uldani, but that would damage the pelt. So, my brother uses a spear or bow and arrow. He’s deadly accurate.” He still wore that smile on his face.
I slipped my hand in his and squeezed his fingers. “Do you miss him?”
He cleared his throat and swallowed. “I do. And while he’s a grown male fully capable of being alone, I know he misses me too, and he’ll be worried I haven’t communicated in some time. This clavas is all most of us have, but Gar takes it to another level. To him, every threat to our livelihood must be exterminated. No question. He already lost everything once, and while he’d never admit it, I know the thought of losing me or any of our males makes him see red.”
“I get that,” I said meaningfully.
He met my eyes, surely remembering the conversation we had about my sister. “The main key to survival is to pay attention. Observe everything. You never know when something seemingly worthless is the reason you’re alive. Remember when we escaped from the Rizars?”
I’d never call them that. They were crocs to me. “I nodded. The vine.”
“I noticed that vine on the way in, and saw it was connected to the top of the cliff. It didn’t mean anything at the time, but it proved later to be what we needed to get away.”
“I pay attention.” I said.
He shook his head. “Not like I’ve been trained to do. First, you need to talk less. Think less too. Keep your mouth closed, eyes open, and brain clear. Those are what you need to keep your senses open to all details and any change from the norm.”
He had a point, I was often in my own head, and I walked without really looking where I was going. I’d tripped over about three bulging roots just that day.
“You know, at home I was sort of obsessed with true crime,” I said.
“True crime?”
“Yeah, like… what happened to my sister. Robberies, thefts, murders, assaults. Unsolved mysteries.”
He was listening with his brow furrowed. “Explain.”
“Well sometimes there are people who … kill other people. A lot of them. They are called serial killers.”
“What is the purpose? Did these people offend the serial killer?”
“Well I think the reason someone is a serial killer is much more complicat
ed but often no. They kill strangers just because they either enjoy killing or the power it gives them.”
His lips turned down. “Enjoy killing? Humans killing humans?”
I nodded.
His nose wrinkled and his eyes darkened. “No Drixonians relish that.”
“None? Are you sure? Most humans are good too. But I think there’s a few baddies in every sentient species, don’t you think?”
He clenched his jaw and didn’t answer for a long time. Finally, he said, “You’re right. But they aren’t like us. Like me.”
“Of course not. That’s part of why I watch a million documentaries and listen to podcasts about true crime. Part of me wants to know what the difference between me and a serial killer is. Is it a mental disorder or something as simple as a bad experience?”
He sighed. “Drixonians live five hundred sun cycles.”
“Five hundred?” I gasped.
“We’ve had a lot happen to us. Sometimes I do wonder why some Drix reject the traditional customs. I’ve questioned whether all of them should be upheld myself.” I glanced at him, but he smiled. “Not She is All, though. That one is never in doubt. It’s paramount.”
He reached for my hand and squeezed. “Enough talk about killings. How about you tell me what you observe, and we’ll work on your skills.”
“Homework?” I pouted. “You’re mean.”
He chuckled to himself and we trudged on as I softly called out the breeze in the trees and the small insects on the ground and anything else my eyes landed on or my ears heard.
What felt like many hours later, the leaves shifted above us on a gust, but I didn’t feel a breeze. Ward’s head went up, his keen eyes alert as he peered into the distance. “What’s—?” I began, then fell silent when the ground rumbled beneath my feet. The air vibrated and my first thought was hunners. “Are they back?” I tugged on Ward’s arm. “Where do we run?”
