Barbarian's Seduction: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 20)

by Ruby Dixon

  Zennek leaves my side frequently throughout the day, but he always returns and checks on me, stopping to make sure that I do not lack anything. His attentiveness is sweet, and to keep myself busy, I sit with the other women by the fire and work on sewing clothing for myself. I notice some of the other women are impatient with Ariana because she cries a lot, so I keep her close to me and show her how to sew. Together, we sit and make ourselves bras to stop our breasts from bouncing under our tunics, and the saddest leather panties with a drawstring. We laugh and laugh at our “granny” panties, and Ariana seems more at ease as time passes.

  “I can’t believe you’re sewing already,” Nora says, shivering next to the fire in a big fluffy fur blanket. Of all of us, she probably struggles with the cold the most and lurks by the fire. “We haven’t been here very long, Marlene.”

  I shrug, working on a pair of leggings since mine have been shredded by my eager mate twice now and resemble nothing more than piecemeal scraps. “There is no boutique de vêtements, n’est ce pas? So I must learn if I wish to look like anything other than a furry bear.” I push my needle through the thin leather, which has been so expertly worked that it feels as soft as butter and as thin as cloth. “There is much to learn, and for now I can do this.”

  “Sewing is definitely better than…that.” Ariana nods over at the sa-khui men on the far side of the cave.

  I look over, and my mate and hers—and another I do not recognize—are stripped to their loincloths as they work. Zennek is bent over a hide that is spread over the floor, up to his elbows in a greasy-looking sludge that he works into the skin itself. His braid dangles perilously close to the next handful of slop he rubs onto the skin, and I make a mental note not to put it in my mouth tonight when we are alone.

  Zennek looks up and his mouth curves into a faint smile, and then he ducks his head again, bending industriously over the hide he is rubbing. Off to one side, the chief—Vektal—dismembers a larger creature that looks a bit like a shaggy pony—and Nora presses her fingers to her mouth, revolted. I cannot look away, fascinated, as Vektal cracks the skull and then carefully removes the brain.

  “You know how they say you never want to see how the sausage is made?” Nora says in a faint voice. “I think I’m seeing how the sausage is made and it makes me want to be a vegetarian.”

  It’s not my favorite to look at the butchering, either, but I force myself to shrug. “Harlow is a vegetarian, she says, but she has been eating meat. There are not enough plants here for such a thing. We must be practical.”

  “Don’t you ever get upset over anything, Marlene?” Nora asks with a shake of her head. “You are way too chill.”

  Am I? I am trying to be wise about things. Georgie went through the worst with the others but immediately took charge because her life—and that of the rest of us—depended on her. She is brave and strong, and I am trying to be practical, that is all.

  Besides, it is easy to be brave and strong when I have my wonderful Zennek. I feel safe with him around, and I know he will protect me. How can I be afraid? “If my biggest problem is that I must eat very, very fresh meat, then that is not so bad a problem, non?”

  “It could be worse,” Ariana says, squinting at her sewing. “I guess it could be bugs. Or snails.”

  “Mm, if there was butter, I would eat all your snails for you,” I tell her, teasing. Americans are so fussy about the funniest things.

  “There you go again,” Nora says, chuckling. “Nothing worries you at all. I need whatever is in the water back in France.”

  I simply shake my head and bend over my sewing once more.

  “So any idea on when Stacy will be back?” Nora asks, bored and obviously chatty. “She resonated to your mate’s brother, right?”

  She did. Zennek had mentioned Pashov was his brother. Salukh too. And he has a sister. And parents. And…mon dieu, I am suddenly going to be part of a big family. “Oui,” I say distractedly. “They resonated.”

  “It’ll be a big family reunion when you guys get back to the main cave then, huh?” She props her chin up on her hand and stares into the fire. “Having a big family like that to lean on will be nice. Dagesh’s parents are dead, so it’s just me and him, really.”

  “Mmm,” I say, because her words have stirred an uneasiness in my belly. I have never had a big family. It has always been me and Maman, and when Maman passed, I flitted from place to place, visiting friends, doing my best to keep myself occupied.

  I have never had a family. Not like that. But Zennek comes from a large one, and for some reason that makes me anxious. What if they don’t like me? What if I am nothing but an odd human to them, and someone they do not like? What if they find me unpleasant?

  What if they turn my Zennek against me?

  Surely not.

  I am worrying over nothing. I look around the cave, hoping for a sign from ma mère that all is well, but no hearts leap out to catch my eye.

  And even though I tell myself I am being silly and it means nothing, I keep watching for hearts anyhow.

  * * *

  Stacy and Pashov return two days later, and Zennek greets his brother with a big hug. Stacy gives me a timid smile. “Looks like you and I are going to be sisters.”

  “Oui, une famille,” I say, leaning in to give her a kiss to each cheek. “I look forward to it.”

  She smiles brightly and we talk throughout the day, and I like her, a lot. She has a very nurturing spirit and she sneaks little glances at Pashov throughout the day that remind me of my own besotted gaze when Zennek is near.

  That evening by the fire, though, the chief gets to his feet. “Almost all have returned, so we will pack up and go to the home cave in the morning. We will make sure all mated couples have private caves and everyone will have a warm place to stay. You will meet the rest of my people,” he says to the humans. “And you will be home.”

  Home.

  Funny. It does not feel like I am home.

  I ponder these words as I snuggle close to my mate around the fire. It grows late and Zennek casts me heated looks that tell me he is quite ready to go to sleep, and so I fake a few yawns. He immediately leaps to his feet, blushing, and then pulls me behind him towards “our” quarters in the back of the ship. Once we are alone, he pulls me into his arms and we make love, slow and fierce, until we are both exhausted and sweaty, panting as we lie atop the furs. He caresses my cheek as I lean against his chest, listening to the gentle hum of our khuis together.

  And I think about Vektal’s words. You will be home.

  “Do you think your family will like me?” I ask Zennek, curious.

  He chuckles, brushing a bit of hair back from my shoulder. “Does it matter? Resonance chooses.”

  I sit up, frowning, because I don’t like that answer. “It matters to me.”

  Zennek looks surprised at my response. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings, my mate. I only meant that it does not matter what they think. They will like you because my khui has chosen you.” He reaches out to trace a finger down my arm. “Because I have chosen you.”

  “But you haven’t,” I protest, sitting up. I don’t know why I’m making this an argument, but I’m unsettled. “You didn’t choose me. Your khui did. Just because it chose doesn’t mean that your family will like me. What if they hate me? What if they think I am funny looking? I’m human—they’ve never seen one, right?”

  “They saw Shorshie.”

  Oh. “Even so, I don’t look like her. And I don’t look like you. What if your parents think your khui has chosen poorly?” I wring my hands. “What if they don’t like me?” Alors, why do I care? Why does it matter so much that strangers like me?

  “Mar-lenn,” Zennek says, sitting up. He puts his hands on my arms, forcing me to look at him. “My parents will not know what to think when their quiet sons return home with mates, it is true. It is not something I have ever thought for myself, and I know Pashov is the same. Farli is the only unmated female in our tribe and she
is our sister. We thought we would grow old alone. Having you at my side? Resonating to you? It is an impossible gift, and one I cherish. My parents will not care that you are human. They will see how happy you make me—and how happy Stay-see makes Pashov—and nothing else will matter.”

  His words make sense, and I nod, even though I can’t quite shake the feeling of unease in my gut. I am good at being the companion to one person—first, Maman and now, Zennek. Maman was always a loner, too. What if I’m not good at being part of a big family? What if I disappoint everyone? “I just worry.”

  “Salukh has been kind to you, has he not?” Zennek encourages. When I nod, he continues. “My little sister Farli will be beside herself with joy to have two sisters. You worry over nothing, my mate.”

  I smile at him, trying to relax about this. Funny how being on a new planet at the edges of the universe isn’t as scary as meeting my in-laws.

  * * *

  I’m able to hold off my anxiety as we travel the next day. It’s overcast, the sunlight faint, and everything around us looks gray. People’s moods are uncertain as we head toward our new “home” and I admit mine is, too. Zennek fusses over me, making sure my furs are bundled tight against my body and handing me more of the spicy trail rations to nibble on as we walk. He offers to carry me, but I shake my head—I want to be able to walk into my new home.

  I try to picture what it’s like living in a cave. It’ll be dark, I think, and smoky, and probably claustrophobic. Is this what you wanted for me, Maman? I ask the universe, but I see no hearts this day. I have not seen them for a few days, and I worry that I’ve missed a subtle signal. What if Zennek is not what she wanted for me after all and I’ve misunderstood all this time?

  My heart aches at the thought and I shake my head. That can’t be right. Zennek is wonderful and perfect for me. I’m just worrying because there is suddenly nowhere else to go. The place we walk to will be our final stopping spot…forever.

  Lost in thought, I look up in surprise when Zennek grabs my gloved hand and squeezes it. “We are here,” he says softly. Nous sommes arrivé.

  We are? I gaze where he points, and sure enough, there is an enormous cliff up ahead, cutting through the snow. A large, triangular cave mouth gapes open at us, and smoke curls in the sky. The others around us are starting to chatter with excitement, and someone is crying, again. Someone is always crying. My mouth goes dry and as I watch, people begin to stream out of the cave itself.

  They are all tall and muscular, intimidating from a distance, but up close I can see they have smiles on their faces. There are a few women mixed with the tribe, but most are male. And as I watch, one hunter moves forward and hugs a tall woman and man who stand next to a skinny girl. Salukh, I realize.

  Oh. Those must be my in-laws.

  My stomach suddenly twists into a knot and my steps slow. I let others pass us as they surge toward the entrance of the cave, and there is laughter and greetings, and everyone seems to be hugging or welcoming a fragile-looking, confused human woman. Everyone is kind, I know. That is not the problem.

  The problem is that it is clear they are a family. Not just Zennek and his parents, but this entire tribe—they are like one big family. And I am not good with family.

  “It will be all right,” Zennek reassures me, pulling me against him. He knows I worry. After all, what place do I have amongst such a close-knit group when I have always been a loner with my Maman?

  There is a happy cry from one of the older females, and I look over to see Stacy being embraced by Zennek’s mother. Stacy’s sturdy and on the taller side, but in the woman’s arms, she’s practically swallowed. Pashov stands nearby, grinning.

  “My Pashov and not Salukh?” the woman says.

  “Zennek, too,” Pashov adds, shooting a look at his brother, who hangs back with me.

  The woman’s face turns incredulous and she scans the crowd, looking for her other son.

  I bristle automatically. Why do they all think Zennek is not worthy of resonating? Why do they all think Salukh should be first?

  Zennek puts his arm around my shoulders, tugging me close. “Do not get offended, my mate.” He presses his mouth to my brow, whispering. “It is only because I am the quietest, and Pashov is not much better. Salukh is the one other hunters look up to, the one who knows himself the best. We have always thought he would be the first—or only—in our family to resonate many turns from now when another female grew of age.”

  My grumpy response dies in my throat. Many turns from now when another female grew of age. I keep forgetting there were never any females for my handsome mate, and no hope for a mate or family. Of course he would never imagine himself as one to get a mate. I squeeze his hand tightly. “I am glad you are mine,” I tell him in French. Je suis contente que tu sois à moi.

  “I feel the same,” he replies back, the words melodic despite his guttural accent. I love that he learned French just for me.

  “Here they are, Mother!” The skinny girl races forward toward us, her eyes wide and excited as she skids to a halt a few paces away. She looks at me with open curiosity, her mouth parted as if she has just seen a unicorn.

  I bite back a chuckle. This is obviously Zennek’s young sister, and she has the features of a girl on the cusp of womanhood, her body slim and coltish, and her height towering over mine.

  “Bonjour,” I tell her, slipping off my glove and holding out my hand since I know that cheek kisses will just make people uncomfortable.

  She takes my hand in hers and gapes. “Four fingers and a thumb! And what a strange color! Humans are so funny.” But she beams at me. “I am Farli, and Zennek is my brother.”

  I can’t help but like her and her enthusiasm. “I am Marlene, and Zennek has told me much about you.”

  She stares at my mouth, and then leans back, fascinated. “Your tongue makes our words weird. It sounds different than when the other humans speak.”

  “It is because she is fransh,” my Zennek says. “She is special.”

  I squeeze his hand, because that is a sweet thing to say, even if it is not correct. Being French does not make me special, but I like that I am special in his eyes.

  Farli grabs at my lowered hand and drags me forward. “Come! My parents are excited to meet you! You will come and stay with us in our family cave now, yes?”

  Zennek releases my hand, letting his excitable sister drag me forward, and there is no time to be nervous. He keeps a hand on my shoulder as Farli tugs me toward the waiting group. “No,” he tells her. “Marlene and I resonated, and we will have our own cave to start our family.”

  “Awww,” Farli groans.

  And then we are in front of Zennek’s parents. They are older than I expected, but he has told me that they resonated later in their years. His father looks just like an older version of my mate, with the same strong jaw, proud nose, and tilt to his horns. He gives me a patient smile and I see Pashov in that self-deprecating grin. Kemli—Zennek’s mother—is of a height with her mate, and looks older than him. Her hair is nearly entirely gray and hangs down her back in one long braid. She has an ornately decorated tunic, the collar a thick half-circle made of quills of some kind in a fascinating, almost hypnotic pattern that makes her look like a queen. She has the bold features of the sa-khui, with a prominent nose and a pointy chin and sharp cheekbones. She doesn’t smile, just studies me for a moment and she looks so fierce and disapproving that I feel my nerves flare again.

  But then her mouth quirks up on one side, and she looks just like Zennek. “My new daughter,” she says, her voice soft and warm. She holds her arms out for a hug.

  I move closer, and as I do, I notice the decorations on her collar seem to change as I get closer, like an optical illusion. When I move in for the hug she offers, I suddenly see them.

  Hearts. Each painted quill is held on with a little decorative stitch that looks like a heart. Hundreds of them.

  And I burst into tears. For the first time since landing here—since
even longer, really, I weep.

  “There, there,” Kemli says, stroking my hair. “It will not be bad here. You are part of our family now. We will take care of you.”

  “My mate?” Zennek’s big hand is on my back as I cuddle against his mother. I can hear the worry in his voice, and I know it’s because I am weeping for the first time since he’s met me. He’s always been impressed that I’m so strong and calm compared to some of the others, but the moment I meet his mother, I’m bawling like a baby. He has to be rattled.

  It’s just…the moment Kemli held her arms out to me, I realized that despite all my worrying about being part of a family, I had a mother again. And seeing those hearts on her tunic? It was like my own mother was given back to me.

  * * *

  Late that night, I lie in a brand new bed of furs with Zennek, staring up at the ceiling of our new home. We have a cave of our own, right next door to his parents and their larger cave. Ours is small, but it’s cozy. I expected to have dripping stalactites from the ceiling, but it’s utterly smooth and high, so even the smoke doesn’t sting my eyes too badly when we light a fire in the central firepit.

  I shift on my side and put my cheek on Zennek’s chest.

  He holds me close. “Tired?”

  “Not quite.” I am exhausted, but my head is too full of whirling thoughts for me to relax into sleep. Even two rounds of intense sex with Zennek hasn’t quite pushed them to the back of my mind. There is just so much to consider.

  “Hungry?” he asks, and there is amusement in his voice. “I am sure there is a basket of dried food.”

  “Or three,” I tease, chuckling. Kemli was so excited at Stacy and my arrival that she went overboard with her generosity. Our new cave is filled with extra furs, dried food, herbs, tools, weapons, and everything that Zennek’s generous parents could think of to start us in our little “family,” as if we are not just one cave away from them.