Fenrir (Scifi Alien Dragon Romance) (Galactic Mates)

by Luna Hunter

  “Hi.”

  Abigail’s coy, innocent smile is a thing of beauty. The freckles on the bridge of her nose, her golden blonde hair, her bright blue eyes – I could stare at them all day. She’s wearing that beige overall again, but I don’t mind, for I can still admire all her curves.

  “What’s the plan there, big fella?”

  I turn to find a man called Nathan standing next to me. He’s resting against the wall as he eats an apple, a yellow hard-hat covering his unruly black hair.

  “None of your business, miner,” I spit in the Universal tongue.

  “Whoa there, it feels like we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. Name’s Nathan.”

  “I remember you, mennir. Shouldn’t you be done defiling the soil of this mountain by now?”

  He shrugs. “Boss says to keep digging, so we keep digging. I was just wondering where you’re taking Abby today, that’s all.”

  Abby?

  Abigail catches the frown on my face, and places her hand on my chest before I can react.

  “He means well,” she says softly in Falurian. “He’s just a bit goofy, that’s all.”

  “Ah, come on, don’t speak in strange tongues in front of me. That’s just plain rude.”

  “Bye Nathan,” Abigail says as she gently pushes him away. “Go do your job or something.” She turns back to me, a healthy glow on her cheeks. “Sorry about that. He’s a friend of mine, but he has a strange sense of humor at times.”

  I straighten my shoulders. “No problem.”

  “So… what do you want to do today?”

  “I wanted to take you up the mountain, show you my home… if you’re willing to fly with me.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Are there any other options?”

  “Not unless you want to go back into the woods.”

  “I’d rather not,” she says.

  “Exactly. Promise I won’t drop you.”

  Her face gets a bit redder. “Not helping here.”

  I take a step forward until our feet are touching. “It’s easy,” I say softly as I grab her hands and place them around my neck. “Just hold on tight.” I place my hands on her lower back, pulling her body even closer. I can feel her rapid heartbeat against my chest, right through her clothing and my armor. I lift her up, my hands supporting her round ass, and her legs wrap around my waist perfectly.

  As if we were made for each other.

  I jump up into the air, flapping my broad wings, and we gain altitude, feet after feet. Abigail has her eyes shut tight, burying her face in my chest.

  “You’re safe,” I say. “Completely safe.”

  I fly up the mountain, and feel completely at ease. With Abigail in my arms, our bodies entwined, my inner-dragon is at peace. Her heart thumps, and I feel she doesn’t share my disposition.

  The air gets thinner as we reach ever higher. We’re climbing rapidly, the camp nothing but a blimp now. The summit approaches. I lower her to her feet gently.

  “We’re here.”

  She opens her eyes and her jaw nearly drops.

  “Oh my god,” she gasps. “This is beautiful.”

  From our vantage point we can see all the beauty Audur has to offer. From the deep-blue sea in the distance to the sprawling forests at the base of the mountain, and the valleys beyond that – it’s a truly majestic sight. The wind whips Abigail’s hair around, and as beautiful as the view is, I only have eyes for her.

  “Pretty nice, right?”

  She hits me on my arm. “This is more than nice, this is… breathtaking.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Living in balance with nature is important to us, to me. We consider this world scared. The mountain, the forests, the view itself. It’s a gift, and we should be careful with it.”

  “I can see why.”

  Another gust of wind hits us, and Abigail nearly stumbles. She crosses her arms over her chest, shivering in the cold. The view here is spectacular, but the elements are strong here. The sharp wind cuts right through her clothing. “Come, let’s go inside,” I say. “There’s so much I want to show you.”

  “Okay,” she says. “But there’s one thing I want to know before we go in.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What were you on about with that whole ‘fate’ stuff you mentioned yesterday? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “I think you’re feeling a lot more than that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I think you know.”

  She has to feel it. The dreams, the attraction, the barely controlled lust. I could have kissed her a thousand times yesterday, I could have pulled her on my lap and dug my fingers into her soft skin and slid my cock between her legs and mated with her over and over again in the water or on the forest floor.

  My cock was as hard as rock as she stood before me in all her naked glory in the water. I could smell her wetness, see her hard nipples, the flush on her chest and cheeks.

  It took every last inch of my self-control to stop myself. She would have let me – enjoyed it as well, I’m sure, but the timing wasn’t right. I sense a vulnerability, a guardedness in her. If I go to fast, I might push her away. That’s not something I can risk.

  I’ll wait as long as I have to – and not a second longer before I make her mine.

  “Are all Falur this cryptic, or is it just you?”

  I can’t suppress a smirk. “It’ll all become clear in time. Just trust me a few moments longer.”

  I guide her into a cave and down a tunnel towards the main hall. “You only saw a small portion of Freya when you visited before. Just an entrance and the throne room. There’s a sprawling city here however, if you can believe that.”

  “Where? How?” she asks.

  “Our forefathers tunneled the homes out of the rock itself. There’s miles and miles of paths and tunnels and homes, crisscrossing one another, all the way down into the deep reaches of the planet.”

  “And all of this belongs to Clan Dagur?”

  “Exactly. To be of Clan Dagur means living here. Look.”

  The small passageway opens up into a big dome. The large room is filled with long wooden tables, filled with roasted meat and the finest mead that Audur has to offer. The guests are just arriving – my cousin Askur and his mate Marit leading the way.

  “Ah, we’re just in time.”

  “For what?”

  “My cousin’s and his mate’s veisla.”

  Abigail stands rooted to the spot.

  “Their veisla? That’s like their wedding, right? You’re taking me to a wedding? Dressed like this?!” she balks. “Are you insane?!”

  “What?” I ask as I glance at her outfit. “You look stunning.”

  “You keep saying that, but I’m well aware this beige overall makes me look like a potato. And one-on-one that may be fine, but I’m not going to make a fool out of myself at what is clearly a fancy wedding. Look at what they’re wearing!”

  Askur and Marit are both wearing salmon-colored tunics, while a wreath of flowers hangs around their necks. It is the traditional garb for this ceremony, and while they do look stunning, I fail to see Abigail’s problem.

  “Fenrir! Glad to see you could make it,” my aunt Karlina says. She’s tall and thin, with a slender neck and very pointed ears. She’s wearing a purple garb, and her red complexion is starting to show splotches of pink, betraying her old age. She’s my father’s sister, and very dear to me. “I see you brought a friend! A mennir no less! Welcome!”

  “Abigail, this is Karlina, my aunt. Karlina, I’d like you to meet Abigail. She works as a translator for the mennir. She speaks perfect Falurian. It’s okay, say something.”

  “Hea,” Abigail says timidly.

  “Welcome dear,” my aunt says. “Why don’t you join us at our table? I love meeting new people.”

  Abigail stands still rooted to the spot, and I realize this is one of those times in which our worldviews differ. I have to
make this right.

  “Karlina, a moment please.”

  I discreetly ask my aunt if she has a spare tunic for Abigail, for she doesn’t feel comfortable attending the feast in her work outfit.

  “Oh, but of course,” she cries, shaking her head at me. “You don’t understand women at all, do you?”

  “Understand what?”

  “Tut tut,” she says, grabbing Abigail by the arm. “Come girl, we’ll make this right, and I can answer all your questions about Fenrir while we’re at it.”

  What have I done?

  I take my place at the table, next to Ragnar, my good friend. Next to him sits Dagur, my father, and beyond that sit Askur and Marit. Ragnar has already filled a cup of mead for me, and I graciously accept.

  “I see you’ve brought the mennir, the human,” he says.

  “Ay,” I answer as I take a large sip of the alcoholic beverage. Hints of grapefruit and chestnut. Our clan brews the best ales on the planet, bar none.

  “Is it true what they say?”

  “That depends. What do they say?”

  “That you have bonded with her.”

  “Who says that?”

  “I do,” my father answers.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I say as I finish my drink and wipe the foam from my mouth with the back of my hand. My father’s incessant mingling in my affairs is already putting a bad taste in my mouth. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about this to her.”

  Ragnar raises his palms. “My lips are sealed.”

  “If so, I’m happy for you,” my father says. “A true fate-bond? That only happens once a century. It’s a miracle, in fact.”

  “Like I said, father. Keep your mouth shut. I’ll explain more in due time. Right now I just want to show her that not all Falur hate outlanders.”

  “Like you, you mean?”

  If stares could kill my father would be reduced to a pile of ash.

  “We ran into some clan Oskar russins yesterday,” I tell them. “I think it riled her up. I just want her to feel at home.”

  “Don’t worry, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” my father says. “Speak of the devil, there she is.”

  Abigail walks up to our table, looking absolutely spectacular. I thought she couldn’t be any more beautiful, but clearly I was wrong. My aunt has given her a turquoise tunic that matches perfectly with her bright blue eyes and her golden-blonde hair.

  “Holy Freya,” I mutter under my breath. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Abigail answers, a smile on her lips. She sits down next to me, and Karlina sits down next to her. I can tell from her body posture that Abigail is much more relaxed now. I just hope Karlina hasn’t told her any embarrassing stories…

  My aunt can’t help but smirk when she sees me glancing at her.

  “What did you two talk about?”

  “Nothing important,” Abigail says with a cheeky smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Tell me,” I growl, leaning in closer. Her smile grows wider, as if she’s enjoying teasing me.

  “I’ll tell you everything… soon.”

  My father interrupts our little moment by starting his speech. I’ve heard talks like this so many times before I just drown it out. All my attention is focused solely on Abigail. Her eyes travel across the room, taking in every last detail – the different type of garbs all the guests are wearing, the appetizing food that is in front of us, even on the longwinded speech my father is giving.

  Her eyes are filled with wonder, and this soothes the dragon inside of me. Already it’s becoming harder to control my urges, my power. The need comes in powerful surges. My eyes travel down her tunic, taking in her luscious curves, her beautiful round forms.

  Her body type is very different from Falur women for she is shorter and curvier. For that reason, the tunic is not a perfect fit – it clings to her every curve, fully accentuating her female form. She leans in to whisper something to me, and from my vantage point I can see straight down the top of her tunic, and see most of her big, supple, round breasts.

  Instantly I’m hard – and my inner-dragon roars with lust. I grip the side of my chair as hard as I can, my skin rippling. The beast wants out.

  I have to get myself under control.

  The armrest shatters into splinters underneath my strong grip. It takes every last bit of self-control I have left, but I manage to calm my dragon.

  For now.

  I have to mate with her, and soon.

  9

  ABIGAIL

  I’M HAVING A WONDERFUL TIME. The food is delicious (fresh fish and cold ales), the music is great (a small group with flutes and banjos is playing an infectious tune) and the company couldn’t be better.

  I’m flanked by Fenrir and his lovely aunt. She gave me this beautiful tunic, and told me to keep it. I tried to refuse, but she insisted. In a few short minutes the Falurian woman has managed to tell me more about Fenrir than I’ve learned in the past week. I know all about what a troublemaker he was back when he was young, how he used to sneak out of the mountain and hide in the forests for days at a time, or go as far as to visit Clan Viktor down by the ocean. Karlina would often be the one to go out and track him down and bring him home. She told me she knows Fenrir so well she can read his mind from the gleam in his eyes alone.

  And this time, the gleam in his eyes are telling her that he’s crazy about me.

  I’m inclined to agree. He’s showering me with attention, making sure my every need is being met. I have to admit – I kinda like it.

  Of course, I hardly know him. And yes, he’s a fierce warrior, a Falurian at that. I promised myself I’d take it slow and not let myself fall head over heels again, but it’s hard. It’s really, really hard to resist him. Especially with this delicious ale lowering my inhibitions.

  There’s something about a fiercely protective warrior that just makes my heart swoon. I deserve a man like that – one who would fight for me, who values me and treats me right.

  Fenrir might just be that man. He certainly has the looks for it. He can carry me effortlessly, lift me up with those strong arms of his. The first time we flew together, I was petrified, but the second time? Honestly, I didn’t want it to end. I rested my head against his chest and I could feel his heartbeat, and I can’t explain it any other way than just saying it felt right. It felt like I was right where I belonged, like I had found my place in the galaxy.

  I know that flies in the face of reason, that it goes directly against what I promised myself, but I can’t help it. I can’t fight fate.

  Fenrir leans in close, his face inches from mine. I feel his warm breath, and I fight the sudden urge to kiss him right on the lips. The thought alone makes me smirk.

  “Want to get out of here?”

  Ooh. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I want to show you something.”

  I shouldn’t… but I want to. I want nothing more than to forget all about my past, my broken heart, and just let this broad-shouldered alien warrior do whatever he wants with me. I deserve that.

  “Okay,” I whisper, trying to sound as sultry as I can.

  Fenrir grabs my hand and leads me away from the table. The festivities are still in full swing, so our departure is barely noticed – except for Karlina who flashes me a wide smile. He takes me down a hallway, before suddenly grabbing my waist

  “Watch out,” he says.

  I glance down and see I almost stepped into a huge, seemingly bottomless pit. The not-having-wings thing makes navigating the Falurian mountain a bit of a chore – or a deathtrap, if you will.

  “Hold on.”

  I wrap my body around Fenrir’s. My arms go around his neck, my legs around his waist and his hands rest firmly on my ass. It’s almost starting to feel like second nature.

  “Ready for lift off,” I say.

  I fear I might just be a little tipsy.

  Fenrir jumps down into the pit, s
preading his wings wide, and we glide down the long and dark shaft. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, enjoying this moment while it lasts. The mining operation could be done any day now. I could be back in cryo-sleep and on the long journey back home to Earth tomorrow if I’m exceptionally unlucky – and most of the time I am.

  I intend to have an unforgettable night before that’s the case.

  The wind whips my hair around as we go down, down, down, for what feels like minutes. I do my best to imprint the feel of Fenrir’s hard body into my mind, for it’s not something I ever want to forget.

  “We’re here,” Fenrir whispers into my ear.

  I open my eyes to see we’ve landed. A large archway stands in front of us, inscribed with ancient Falurian runes – ones I can’t read. The way through is barred by an iron gate, which Fenrir opens for me. It smells different down here – the air is filled with the scent of ancient tomes. It is decidedly colder here as well.

  “What is this place?”

  “The Library of Freya,” Fenrir says. “This is the repository of all Falur knowledge. Every treaty ever signed, every document ever made by the clans, every scientific paper ever published, going back tens of thousands of years. Every historic document you can think of – it’s all here. We’re a mile below ground, and this archive has always been here, for all of Falurian history.”

  My jaw drops. “Th-this is fantastic,” I stammer. “Amazing! This is like the Library of Alexandria – only this still stands!”

  “I figured you’d like it. Go ahead, take a look.”

  I wander into the archive, and the sheer size of it astounds me. The main tunnel splits up into different sections, on and on, splitting into new paths, seemingly endlessly, with every wall stacked up to the ceiling with books. Without Fenrir by my side it would be easy to get completely lost in here.

  “This is almost… too much,” I say. “No one can read all of this in their lifetime.”

  The walls suddenly shake, and a few pebbles tumble down from the ceiling. I hold onto Fenrir’s arm as my heart leaps into my throat. “W-what was that?”

  “Probably nothing,” Fenrir says. “We are deep underground. Perhaps the tectonic plates themselves moved. And you are correct,” Fenrir says. “This is too much for any single person to read. That is why we have scholars. Every year, several members of our clan rescind their inner-dragon and dedicate themselves fully to the sciences. They spend their lives down here, copying documents that are falling apart and reading ancient scrolls for information that may have been lost to us. They are the keepers of our history, and they keep us on the true path. They are easily recognized, for their skin has no color.”