Barbarian's Choice: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 12)

by Ruby Dixon

  I stop, though Trakan’s the last person I want to see at the moment. “What is it?”

  “I need the secondary remote for the game board. Have you seen it?” He rubs his hands. “I’m going to teach these boys to gamble.”

  I snort. “Why? They’re a simple people. They don’t have anything you want.”

  “Ah, my friend, but that’s where you’re wrong.” His tone is smooth, too smooth. And there’s a big grin on his face I don’t trust. “It’s about building relationships, you know? Something you can’t judge anyone on.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the little bit of sweetness you’ve been keeping in your quarters. But that’s fine—she’s all yours. I’m working on making friendships, you know? Might be a reward for a long-lost descendant or two. Or heck, they came here on a ship. Might be able to take some salvage off their hands.” He winks at me.

  Rage burns in my mind. Is that all these people are to him? A money-making scheme? Is that why he’s teaching them to gamble? So he can fleece them out of everything they might own that’s of some value? “Leave these people alone.”

  “Hey, hey, don’t get greedy.” He puts his hands in the air. “Like I said, you’ve got your target, I’ve got mine. I’m not touching your little piece of tail—”

  I slam my fist into his keffing mouth. How keffing dare he? Farli isn’t a piece of ‘tail.’ I think of her laughing eyes and her innocent smiles. I think of Trakan taking someone like her into one of the back rooms and trying to talk circles around her to get what he wants out of her.

  And as Trakan staggers backward and mutters a “What the hell?” I go after him again.

  I fling myself onto him, fists flying. Trakan tries to land a few punches, but I’m the security expert on the crew, and he’s just a skinny, underdeveloped navigator. He tries to block me, but I’m stronger than him, and I know where to hit. My fist slams into his brow, his mouth, and I can’t stop myself. Over and over, I see Trakan in my mind, cornering Farli and trying to manipulate her. I can’t stop, because the red cloud of anger over my brain doesn’t allow me to think.

  Farli’s mine.

  She’s mine.

  Someone’s shouting in the distance, and then hands are grabbing me—extra sets of hands. I’m yanked off of Trakan and hauled backward several feet. I swing wildly despite the fact that I can no longer reach him. I’m snarling furiously, because I want to make him regret the awful things he’s saying. I’m not like him. I’m not. I’m not using Farli.

  I’m not.

  But then she’s there, at my side. Her hands go to my face, and she presses her warm, warm fingers against my cheeks. Her eyes are full of concern and love, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I’m lost in that shining, glowing blue and in her touch. The thrumming sound of her khui fills the air, and I focus on it and the soft, breathless sound of her whispering my name.

  My Farli.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Chatav says stiffly. I reluctantly pull my gaze away from hers and see that the captain and the chief are standing in the doorway, both of them frowning in my direction. The elderly hunter, Vaza, is pulling Trakan to his feet. There’s blood all over Trakan’s face, and his lip is swollen. My hand throbs with a silent reminder of what I’ve just done.

  I don’t care. If they let go of me right now, I’d attack him all over again. But Farli keeps touching me, and somehow, I manage not to lunge at Trakan once more.

  “Kochal?” Chatav demands, glaring at Trakan. “Speak.”

  “Kef if I know what’s going on with him, Captain. I was just asking Vendasi here where the game board remote was and he lost his cool. Started attacking me. Think he needs a psych evaluation if you ask me.” He presses his hand to his split lip and winces. “Been in space for too keffing long without a meds adjustment.”

  I growl low in my throat.

  “It is all right,” Farli murmurs, her hand stroking my shoulder. “Do not look at him, Mardok. Look at me.”

  “Vendasi?” Chatav asks, wanting my side of the story.

  I remain silent. Everyone’s staring at me, and I don’t want the others to feel humiliated at the thought of Trakan trying to take advantage of them. I sure don’t want to repeat what he said about Farli, because I don’t ever, ever want her thinking that I would use her. So I say nothing.

  “Guilty, like I said,” Trakan tells everyone.

  “Kochal, I somehow doubt very much that you were innocently asking for the remotes and nothing more,” Chatav says to Trakan, tone cold. “That being said, I do think it wise if both of you spend some time apart. Everyone is under a lot of stress right now, and this ship isn’t large enough to hold two hotheads in close quarters. I’m barring both of you from the common areas for the rest of the day. Spend your time in your quarters and think about what you’ve done.” It sounds like he’s scolding children and not grown adults.

  “Come stay with me tonight,” Farli says softly, stroking my cheek. “Come back to the village. You can return in the morning.”

  Vektal nods. “We will take Mardok with us. The other can stay here.”

  “Very well,” Chatav says, clasping his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry you had to see this shameful display.”

  “They are hunters,” Vektal tells him with a shrug. “Tempers run hot. It happens from time to time.” He seems unconcerned, and my respect for him goes up a notch for treating us like adults. His strange glowing blue gaze focuses on me. “Do you need to see a healer?”

  I flex my hand. To use med bay for something so small would be ridiculous. “I’m fine.”

  “Let us get your fur wraps,” Farli murmurs to me. “And we’ll go back down to the village. Come.”

  I let her lead me away, though the urge to pound my fists into Trakan’s face is still overwhelming. You’ve got your target, I’ve got mine.

  It’s not the same, I tell myself. It’s not.

  9

  FARLI

  Mardok’s big body is shaking with rage as I lead him away. I do not know what caused the fight between him and his tribesmate, but whatever it is, it is clear to me that it has hurt him at a deep level. He’s silent as he puts on his layers and we go out into the snow once more. A few of my tribesmates are heading back, and we walk with Georgie and Vektal, who are also quiet. It seems that the ship has brought no one happiness except perhaps me and Har-loh’s small family, because she will be better soon. Even Li-lah, who is getting her hearing returned, does not seem excited about the prospect.

  It is as if all we have are more doubts and questions, and I do not know if I like it.

  We use the pulley to get back down to the bottom of the gorge, and Chahm-pee prances up to me. He’s clearly been waiting here for my return, and I lavish him with praise and attention as we walk back to the village. I might as well, since no one else is speaking. But then the small, neat rows of houses that make up Croatoan come into view, and I see people walking around, pausing to talk. I see the kits playing in the street, Joden and Pacy chasing a ball as Analay and Kae race after them.

  It is normal. Good. The sight of it makes me feel better.

  Shorshie turns to me, a bright smile on her face that does not quite meet her eyes. “Would you and Mardok like to join us for dinner tonight? I can make something, and it would be an honor to have you visit my fire.”

  I look at my mate, but he is far away, his expression distant.

  “Not tonight,” I tell Shorshie. “Perhaps in the morning. I think we would not be good company.”

  She gives me an understanding nod and pulls her mate away. I take Mardok by the arm and lead him toward my small house on the edge of the village. Chahm-pee prances behind us, nipping at my boots playfully. He does not understand why the mood is a grave one, only that it is time to play. I move him to the house that is his stable, put food in his basket and make sure he has fresh water. I give him a quick scratch and promise
to spend more time with him tomorrow.

  Tonight, I must be with my mate. With my little dvisti secure for the evening, I head to my house and push aside the privacy screen over the door. “Give me a moment to start a fire,” I tell Mardok, entering and heading to the fire pit.

  It is dark inside, but I know my small house by feel alone, and my flint and tinder are where I left them. I make a spark quickly, dropping it onto a pile of tinder and blowing on it until it is large enough to hold its flame as I feed it dung chips. As I work, I wonder what he will think of my small house. It is not brightly lit like his is. My bed is not on a platform, but on the stone floor and is nothing more than a pile of the softest, thickest furs. I have a small alcove for my toilet, a stone counter for my cooking, and a fire pit. I have a rack for my weapons, a few stools, and colorful, woven hangings that Tee-fah-ni and Meh-gan have made for me. It is a small chamber, and very different from his. And it is important to me that he does not find it…crude.

  As I work the fire, he moves around the house, gazing at my things. He moves toward the stone wall and peers at it. “Are these hieroglyphs?”

  “I do not know that word.”

  “Stone drawings? Language?”

  I shrug. “They were here before we came. Some of the walls have pictures, some do not.” They do not interest me much, though a few of the humans are fascinated by them.

  “Huh,” he says. “If they’re anything like these pictures, they’re ugly creatures. Four arms and no horns.”

  “They are long gone,” I say, and add a teasing note to my voice. “You do not have to worry about them returning to scare you out of your sleep.”

  He looks over at me, and a hint of a smile curves his mouth. “Guess not.”

  I like that his mood is lightening a bit. I stoke the fire higher, adding in even more fuel so he will not be cold. It’s odd to look over and not see his eyes glowing in the darkness. No khui, I remind myself. Maybe never. And I grow a little sad at the thought. Just as quickly, I push it aside. If I will only have a few days with Mardok, then I will make the most of them. I will grieve and feel sorry for myself later, when his ship has disappeared from the sky and I am left empty and alone.

  But for now, he is here. I will worry about everything else tomorrow. I pat the stool next to where I crouch. “Come and sit by the fire.”

  Mardok approaches, and I notice some of the strain is easing from his face now that we are alone. I am glad. He sits down and unbuckles the front of his suit, then rubs his hands and holds them out to the fire. “It’s getting colder.”

  “It does get brisk when the suns go down. Do not worry—we will stay warm under the furs.”

  Instead of making him smile, he looks unhappy. “Farli…”

  “Shhh,” I tell him. “I ask nothing of you but your company while you are here. You cannot stay, and I am not sure I wish to leave.” I shake my head. “It is as it has been made. All we can do is enjoy the time we have.”

  His eyes are still sad, but he nods. When I stand, he grabs me by the hips and tugs me into his lap. “If that’s the case, then I’m not letting go of you tonight.”

  I chuckle and wrap my arms around his neck, because I do not mind this in the slightest. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “Nope.” Mardok presses a kiss to the bony plates on my shoulder. “I was cold, but I’m warmer with you in my arms.”

  “Shall we undress and get under the furs? You will be much warmer with your naked skin pressed against mine.”

  He closes his eyes and groans, pressing his forehead to the exact spot he just kissed. “Have mercy on a man.”

  “Why? It is practical.”

  “And I won’t be able to resist touching you.”

  I snort. Is that his only worry? “Why should you resist it? I want to touch you, too.”

  He lifts his head. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

  Using me? With my khui singing a wild, needy song in my chest? With my body aching and feeling hollow a bit more every day because we haven’t mated? I am already slick between my thighs, and my pulse is pounding. If he does not touch me soon, I am going to be the one using him.

  The idea has merit.

  But since he is reluctant, I get to my feet and stand between his legs. I undo the ties on my leather tunic and shrug it off my shoulders, leaving my torso bare. He gazes at my teats, a hungry expression on his face. I want him to touch me. I feel as if I am dying for it. And yet he does not reach for what I offer him. Does he truly think I will hate him if he touches me and then leaves me behind?

  I could never hate him. Ever.

  So I carefully lift one foot and pull my boot off, then the other. I toss them aside, my gaze locked with his. Can he not see how much I want him? How ready I am for him to claim me as his? I straighten and pull my leggings off next, kicking them aside until I am naked in front of him. Still he does not reach for me, though his gaze is heated and he flexes his hands as if he is dying to touch me.

  Very well, I will continue to take the lead. It is not that he is shy, I know. It is that he thinks touching me might be a mistake he will regret. So I must show him otherwise. I take his hand and guide it to my teat, like I did when we first met. “Will you not touch me?”

  The groan that erupts from him is pained. He jumps to his feet, and before I can ask what is wrong, his mouth is on mine and he’s claiming me. I moan with pleasure as his tongue drags against my own, and he takes over, kissing me with abandon. Over and over, his lips swoop over mine, and I am breathless with delight. His arms go around me, and then my chest is mashed against his crinkly, thick tunic.

  “I want to feel your skin,” I whisper between kisses. “Please, Mardok. Let me touch you, too.”

  He picks me up in his arms, and I gasp, clinging to his neck. I did not realize he was so much taller than the males in my tribe until just now. I normally stand head to head with them, but with Mardok, I reach his chin. I…like it. It makes me feel small and dainty next to him, almost like a human. The thought makes me giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks as he carries me over to my furs.

  “I was just thinking you make me feel small in your arms, like a human.”

  He makes a face. “You are far more beautiful than any of those.”

  I sigh with pleasure. Such a simple compliment, but it makes me feel warm.

  Mardok kicks open my furs and gently lays me down in them. I stretch out, feeling sensual, and am pleased when he begins to strip off his layers. “Brr. It’s keffing freezing,” he says as he tosses aside his thick suit. He is wearing nothing but an ultra-thin layer of a strange type of leather that outlines his body. I can see the shape of his cock and spur even through the fabric. Fascinated, I reach out to trace my fingers along his length. He closes his eyes. “You are the most distracting female I have ever met.”

  “I know.” I cup my teats with my hands, teasing my hard nipples with my fingers. “It is because I enjoy distracting you so.”

  “Gods, I noticed.” He pulls off his last layer of clothing in a hurry, and then he is naked in front of me.

  I sit up, because I want to study him. His strange markings that go up one side of his face in perfectly drawn patterns continue all down one arm and leg, narrowly missing his groin. The other side of his body has scars on it, from thigh to shoulder, most of them small tracings of silver against blue skin. Some of his flesh looks to be a different shade than the rest of it, which is surprising. As he crawls into the furs with me, I place my hand on one patch on his belly. “Why is your skin lighter here?”

  “You didn’t know? It’s artificial. I guess I should have said something.”

  “Art-ee-fish-ul?”

  “Not real. It was replaced when I was injured in war. Part of my hip,” he says, bringing my hand down to one taut buttock, and then moving it back to his stomach. “My belly, and my arm.” He gestures, and now that he has said that, I can see a strange line along one elbow, as if hi
s entire arm was dipped in a lighter shade of blue.

  “It looks very real,” I say, awed. I poke him experimentally.

  He chuckles. “It’s part of me now. The flesh was grafted to mine, and the nerve endings all feel the same. Which, I’m guessing, doesn’t mean much to you. Let’s just say that I had holes in me and they fixed me up.” His fingers brush a lock of mane off my face. “Do you find it strange?”

  I cannot help but frown. “Why did you have holes in you?”

  “War. It’s…it’s not a good thing. It’s when…” He pauses, thinking. “Well, I guess it’s when one tribe sends out their hunters to attack the other tribe’s hunters.”

  Attack another tribe’s hunters? “But why?”

  “You don’t like what that other tribe is doing.” He shrugs.

  “But are they not your kin?”

  “Not always.” His tone is growing remote, cold. This is part of the thing he does not like, the thing that hurts him deep inside. “It’s complicated, Farli.”

  “Then let us save it for some other time,” I tell him, and fling my arms around his neck so we can kiss some more. I bear him down to the blankets and press my teats against his bare chest. Now he feels good and warm against me, and I moan again because I like the sensation of my skin against his, our bony plates rubbing up against one another. “This is much better than before, do you not agree?”

  “You’re so soft,” Mardok murmurs. “Funny how you’re so soft and yet such a badass at the same time.”

  “Bad-ass?”

  “Never mind. We can leave that for some other time, too.” His hand slides down to my flank and he caresses my buttock. “I have to admit, this is a lot warmer.”

  “Is it not? And we can explore each other,” I tell him happily. “I want to touch all of you.”

  He leans in and nudges my nose with his. “Farli…this is a strange question, but how much do you know about sex? Mating?”