The Alien's Savior

by Ella Maven

  In the dining hall, we heaped the food offerings on our leaf “plates,” as the females called them. The food had improved since the humans took over most of the cooking. Now, we were served what they called “buffet” style, which meant large vats of food were placed in a row, and we scooped out what we wanted. I stood next to Naomi in line, and her presence was like a constant itch under my skin—and an ache in my cock. It didn’t help she kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. Normally, I couldn’t give a fleck about awkwardness or someone offended by my lack of conversation, but I knew I’d hurt her back in my room. She physically winced at my lack of greeting.

  I was a total “dick,” as the females said. Well, they didn’t know I was aware they called me that, but I’d overheard it. I still wasn’t sure what a dick was, but they sneered it with curled lips.

  Naomi never called me that though. I’d heard her defend me a time or two. Why? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t deserve it. Whatever a dick was, I accepted the title and probably deserved worse.

  With full plates, we both turned to sit down to find that the only seats available were right across from each other. I took my place next to Ward, and Naomi took her seat next to Reba. I was forced to look at her, to feel the coolness of her breath when she blew over her hot porridge, to smell the scent of her hair. I itched to touch her, but I hadn’t dared, not since the rotations before we reached the safety of these walls. She didn’t need me now. She was safe here.

  Naomi remained quiet, offering only a few words when Ward and Reba tried to draw her into conversation. She watched me from beneath her thick dark lashes, as if trying to hide her glance. But I didn’t have to see it. I felt it.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I cleared my throat. “Hello, Naomi.”

  She froze with a handful of food halfway to her mouth. Reba choked and coughed before gulping down some qua. Ward sucked in a breath then held it.

  Naomi blinked at me rapidly, as I sat still, barely able to believe the words were out of my mouth. I rarely talked to her, too afraid I’d lose my mind, grab her, and never let her go. But I couldn’t hurt her, not if it were the last memory she had of me.

  She dropped her hand back to the table, and I swallowed. My cora pounded. Then her lips split, and she gifted me with a rare, bright, full-out Naomi smile. Just the sight of it made the air clearer, the food taste better, the sun shine brighter.

  “Hi,” she said, her little tongue peeking out between her blunt white teeth. She beamed at me, then at Reba before tucking back into her food, a pretty flush on her cheeks highlighting the small brown dots on her skin.

  Reba stared at Naomi, then at me, before sighing heavily. “Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” Ward asked.

  “Nothing,” she answered.

  Naomi elbowed her, and they both laughed.

  I closed my eyes, imprinting that sound into my memory. I’d need it where I was heading next.

  Two

  Naomi

  Something was off about Gar.

  Well, something was always off about Gar, but today he was even more gruff, distracted, and downright irritated at my presence than normal.

  I wasn’t sure why I felt responsible for Gar’s emotions, or rather why I felt it was my duty to make him happy. Nothing made Gar happy. But like an idiot, I kept trying even though every interaction with him was like bashing my head against a wall.

  I wouldn’t have bothered except just when I felt like giving in, he’d let a whisper of truth slip through—in the way his eyes tracked me at all times, or the way he flexed his fists when I got to near, like he had to hold back from touching me.

  I still remembered when we’d first arrived on this planet, kidnapped by the gross Rahguls, and rescued by the Drixonians. We hadn’t known if the blue, horned aliens were the good guys at first, but they’d taken us to their hideout and kept us safe. With no translation implants yet, we hadn’t been able to understand them, but they’d been patient, fed us, and were as gentle as they could be.

  It was just my luck I got my period and woken up to my borrowed furs covered in blood. I’d never forget Gar’s panic as he scooped me up and raced to the cleanser, where he’d searched my body for injury. His big hands had touched every inch of skin looking for the source of the blood. At the time, I’d been terrified, but looking back, I realized now he’d been out of his mind with fear I’d been hurt.

  I almost wished that hadn’t happened, that I didn’t know what it was like for Gar to care so much. He spent so much time with a face like stone and pitch-black eyes, but then his anger had taken on another form, his eyes a stormy purple as he growled, handling me possessively. I fully believed at the time he would have fought an entire army single-handedly if they were responsible for one drop of my blood.

  Gar didn’t like when anyone stared at him. Not even the other warriors, and definitely not the women. I wasn’t sure if it was a vanity thing, although I couldn’t imagine Gar really gave a crap about how he looked. He did look different from the other warriors—the left side of his face was a spiderweb of scars that marred the blue flesh with white lines. His left horn was broken, the ends sharp and jagged. As far as piercings, each nostril was adorned with large golden rings, and he had the tongue piercings all the warriors had. His hair hung past his shoulders in thin black braids. Overall, he looked terrifying, but I still found him handsome. His lips were full, his jaw strong. His eyes, which he worked hard to keep blank, revealed a lot when he forgot to maintain his back-off glower.

  Still, I stared at him. Often. I’d sneak glances at him, and he never snarled at me the way he did with others. Today, I looked at him more, focusing on the tenseness in his shoulders and the way his fists clenched rhythmically. Something was bothering him. Something big. And I knew Gar well enough to know he’d cut out his own vocal cords before he unburdened himself to someone. Ward was worried about him, too, as he kept trying to engage an unwilling Gar in conversation, all while his face was pinched with concern.

  When Gar finished eating, he didn’t excuse himself from the table at breakfast. He never did. He simply got up, tossed his leaf in the waste bin, and walked out.

  Normally I’d sit at the table and pick at the rest of my food, sulking, but this time, he’d given me a reason to continue poking. He’d said “Hi,” and when I’d smiled at him, longing had crossed his face. It’d been a split second, but it’d been enough for me.

  I stood so quickly Reba jerked to look at me with a frown.

  “I just remembered I told Anna I’d help her with Bazel for a little this morning,” I said, referring to our friend—the only one of us who’d birthed a human-Drixonian baby, even though three of our women were pregnant.

  Reba gulped down a fresh-squeezed guara drink we made that tasted a little like orange juice. “Okay.”

  Ward was distracted, his gaze tracking his brother as he walked away. His head swung back once Gar was out of sight, and he frowned down at his food.

  I swallowed. “Right. See you guys later.”

  With a small wave, I jetted out of there before anyone could stop me. I was worried I’d lost him but when I walked out of the dining hall, I spotted Gar entering his hut. He’d had a leather package in the back of his pants when we’d met him before breakfast. I’d seen him place it off to the side before we left for our meal. What had he wrapped up?

  I hung back behind a drying rack of clothes, watching his hut. He didn’t stay inside long. His door opened, and his frame filled the doorway before he stepped out and shut it firmly behind him. That package was once again tucked in the back of his pants. He brushed his hands together and green dust drifted from them to the ground.

  I followed him as he headed in the direction of the garage. I kept to the shadows at a near crouch. Luckily, I was small, and the warriors were so tall they often looked right over my head.

  Gar walked into the garage which was full of gleaming hover bikes. I
hadn’t been on one since we arrived within these walls, but I still remembered what it felt like to sit in front of Gar, his big arms caging me in while the powerful bike vibrated between my legs. The other women had been terrified of what was to come, and I had been too—except around Gar I always felt safe. I’d seen him battle and rip apart Kulks with his bare hands, but I knew he’d never hurt me.

  I plastered myself in a dark corner and watched as Gar found his bike. His was one of the largest—it had to be to fit his frame—and he also had the largest compartment on the back, which he often used to carry extra weapons for the other warriors when on missions.

  He placed his leather package in the compartment. Taking a pouch of qua off a rack, he dropped that in too. He straddled the bike and slowly walked it out of the line of bikes, closer to where I hid. His expression was hard, his jaw in a tight clench.

  I ached to go to him, to smooth the frown in his nubbed brow and tell him he could unburden his thoughts on me. But I knew it was unwelcome. I wasn’t that comfort for Gar, no matter how much I wanted to be.

  “Gar,” said a voice from the front of the garage.

  The big warrior’s head went up, and irritation thinned his lips before he unstraddled his bike with a low growl.

  “What?” He strode toward the front of the garage and out of my sight.

  I heard his voice, mingled with one of the younger warriors who often cared for the bikes. Something about fuel and polish. Then Gar asked him to open the gates.

  “Where are you going?” The warrior asked.

  “None of your business.” Gar shot back.

  The other warrior muttered an apology. Because that was what everyone did when Gar got grumpy with them.

  I fisted my hands at my sides. So, I’d been right. He was leaving. He hadn’t said a word to Ward, which bothered me. Where was he going? This wasn’t a normal hunting party, and few warriors ever left the gates alone, unless they were scouts, and that was a planned schedule which they completed on foot.

  I had two options, confront Gar, and ask him where he was going, which most likely would result in him shutting me down and me crying about it in the privacy of my room. Gar wasn’t magically going to open up and tell me what was wrong and where he was going.

  My other choice was not a good option. Several of the other women warned of the dangers outside the gates, and I believed them. Their stories scared me. But my concern for Gar ran so deep I made a split-second reckless decision.

  Before Gar strode back into the garage, I raced to his bike. Throwing up the lid of the compartment, I climbed inside. After much contortion of my limbs, I curled into the fetal position. Just as I heard booted footsteps returning, I reached up and closed the lid. Then I held my breath.

  Had he seen me? I couldn’t imagine the tongue lashing I’d get. Part of me hoped I did get caught. He’d be forced to look at me and talk to me. The footsteps stopped by the bike. I waited, blinking into the dark, staring at the lid, waiting for it to open, and Gar to haul me out by the scruff of my neck.

  But that didn’t happen. My stomach dipped as the bike shifted. I could feel Gar’s presence near my head as he settled on the bike. A flip switched, and the engine roared to life. The bike rose, and my head spun with vertigo. Oh God, the last thing I wanted was to throw up in here. The bike moved forward, and after a few moments I heard the gates close, and we picked up speed. The bike dipped and rolled.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I whispered to myself. I’d really done this. I’d hidden in the back of Gar’s bike while he drove outside the walls. This was not good, in fact, this was really, really bad. If Gar didn’t kill me himself when he found me—which he inevitably would—then Miranda would kill me. I squeezed my eyes shut, clasped my hands together, and hoped this was just a joyride. If I could get back and out of here without anyone noticing, I might just survive this.

  We rode for what felt like hours. I dozed off here and there, lulled by the swaying and vibrations of the bike. I took a few sips of the qua and nibbled on a bit of antella jerky from his small leather pouch when I got hungry.

  Gar didn’t stop. He just rode, and I couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he be traveling so far, and without any warriors to have at his back? They were a pack race and stronger together.

  A bit of light crept into my hiding spot, and it was then I realized the rushing wind had exposed a small slit in the leather of his compartment, probably a result of a past battle. Wiggling my finger into it, I was able to open the cut just wide enough I could see out of it. Blue and green flew past us, making me dizzy, so I turned away, wincing as my cramped legs protested.

  I needed to get out here. I could yell for Gar, but he wouldn’t hear me over the wind. I was praying he’d turned around from this little joyride and we were on the way back. “Stupid, Naomi,” I chastised myself in a whisper. “This was really stupid.”

  Except when the bike finally slowed, I squinted through my peephole to find we were in an unfamiliar area. The trees were less dense here, and tall blue grass blew in the breeze of an open plain in the distance.

  Gar settled the bike down and turned off the engine. For a moment, he didn’t move, and I held my breath. Should I tell him I’m here? I should. He’d yell at me, but at least he’d keep me safe.

  The bike shifted, and then two thick legs came into my view. A rustling sound followed, and part of my vision was blocked by blue leaves. Was he… hiding the bike? Then he strode away and stopped nearby, thankfully in my line of vision. I could see all of him now, and he stood with his giant hands braced on his hips, head tilted back facing the sun. He remained motionless for a long time, his great chest inhaling and exhaling. I couldn’t tear my eyes away even though I felt like I was watching a private moment. He closed his eyes, and a mighty grimace crossed his face, pain etched into his features so deep, I thought he’d crack open.

  My lips parted, and I curled a finger around my peephole just as he fell to his knees with a thud. He pulled a small disk from his pocket and flipped it through his fingers like a poker player with his chips. Then he lifted his opposite arm, unleashed his machets, and sliced into his wrist.

  I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold in a gasp as black blood dripped from the cut in his scales. He didn’t make a sound, and the pain I’d seen on his face was gone now. His expression remained blank as he shoved the disk inside of the wound before sticking a vial of medis in his arm. The wound closed, sealing the disk inside. I stared, barely able to believe what I was seeing. What was Gar doing? What was that disk?

  He rose to his feet slowly, surprisingly graceful for a creature his size. He glanced back at his bike. At me. And for a moment, I swore he saw me. My heart thudded and sweat dripped down my temple. I opened my mouth to call to him, but before I could get any sound out, he turned and sprinted away.

  Sprinted away.

  My jaw dropped in shock, and I scrambled to open the lid of the compartment. Where the hell was he going?

  His body was a blue blur racing across the open plain, already easily a quarter of a mile away from me. I threw open the lid and had one leg outside of the compartment when a whistle pierced the air, and Gar’s body went down with a thud.

  I gasped and froze, mid-exit, as at least three dozen Kulks and a dozen other aliens—gray bipedal ones who I surmised were Uldani—converged on his prone form. Although my instinct was to rush to Gar’s side and somehow save him, I knew I’d be useless. Fear gripped me in a vice, souring my stomach as I forced a sob down and retreated to the safety of Gar’s bike. Covered once again, I peered through my hole. A group of Kulks picked up Gar’s body by his arms and dragged him to the edge of the clearing. Then, a section of the ground lifted, like a trapdoor, and they all filed inside.

  Gar’s eyes opened for just a moment, and then they closed as I lost sight of him to the Kulk and Uldani underground lair. Once they were below the ground’s surface, the door closed. The wind blew. A brigger chirped. That was it. The sudden violence
of the afternoon all but vanished. But I sure as hell hadn’t forgotten.

  I didn’t move, paralyzed by fear and indecision. I couldn’t drive his bike back to the Night Kings. Even if I knew how to operate the thing, I didn’t know the way back. I was stuck here. No comm, no nothing. But what consumed my thoughts was concern for Gar. The Uldani had him and no one knew but me. Which meant… I was his only hope.

  I spotted a few Kulks emerging from underground. They’d probably be looking for Gar’s bike. Or to see if any of the other warriors were here. Shit. The Kulks fanned out in a line like a search party. And they were heading my way.

  My decision made for me, I gathered up the leather bundle of food and stuffed it into my pants. The pouch of qua went down my shirt, tucked between my breasts. A sort of calm descended over me. Sure, I was terrified out of my mind, but I also felt like I had a mission. Don’t get caught. Save Gar. The last thing the Kulks would expect was a tiny human female. But I wasn’t helpless. I took a deep breath and crept out of my hiding spot.

  Three

  Naomi

  The girls back at the camp sheltered me almost as much as they did Bazel, and I accepted their treatment with conflicted feelings. I’d always been protected. Back on Earth, my older brother treated me like I was a princess who must remain untouched. He threatened my prom date with dismemberment and scared off every suitor after our first date. His interest in my dating life was frankly ridiculous, but then I’d never really had a dad, so Theo had stepped up into that role—maybe a little too seriously.

  It didn’t help he was also my boss as the foreman for my construction crew. All day I was surrounded by muscles and alphas, yet none of them looked my way because my Theo warned them away. Heck, most of them didn’t even talk to me.

  Maybe all of that was why I decided to be reckless. Everyone underestimated me and treated me like a girl in need of protecting. I might have been five-foot-one on a good day, but I was strong. I swung hammers for a living. So, fuck it. I was going after Gar. I didn’t want to think about what they were doing to him down there. And if they did catch me? I’d use my womb as a bargaining chip to save him. It was what the Uldani wanted anyway.