by Luna Voss
“Tessa,” I tell him. “My name is Tessa.”
The chief smiles. “I’m glad to meet you, Tessa. Stay here, and I will return with food.”
Chapter Eight
Borrik says little to me as we trudge our way through the snow to the cabin. Both of us are wrapped in warm furs, mine a thick cloak of Kyrzon make that the chief insisted I put on before we left. I have to admit, I’m glad to have it. Even wearing it over my winter jacket, I feel cold.
The weather around us is brutal, oppressive. It was snowing hard when we left, but nothing like this. In the fifteen or twenty minutes that we’ve been walking, the conditions have grown positively alarming. Big flakes fall down all around us, the blanket of white on the ground getting taller and taller at a seemingly rapid pace. Usually, I find the snow beautiful, but now, the cold and wet of it are almost painful. I push my scarf up over my face as the skin on my cheeks starts to burn.
“We should have stayed at the castle,” Borrik growls to me. “I can barely see where we’re going.” He holds an electric lantern above his head, the light struggling to cut through the storm around us. I see flakes of snow glowing like sparks in the bright light, flurrying wildly, but the illumination doesn’t extend more than ten feet in any direction.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I shout over the howling wind. “Maybe we should turn around.”
“We’re closer to the cabin than we are to the castle,” Borrik shouts back. “Our best option is just to keep walking this way.”
I follow him, struggling to keep up as the snow on the ground gets deeper. I’m really getting cold now, just not having a good time at all. I wish so badly that I’d stayed at the castle. I could be warm and safe right now, curled up with Bella...
Bella!
I feel like shit. In all the chaos and terror of being kidnapped and then gifted to a Kyrzon war chief, I managed to forget about my best friend, the lovable, furry being who relies on me.
“Do you know what happened to my dog?” I ask Borrik insistently. “The slaver had her in his cart.”
Borrik doesn’t stop walking. “Your dog?”
“Yes, my dog! She’s small and furry, bushy tail, little pink nose...”
“I know what a dog looks like,” Borrik says. “I just don’t know what happened to yours. You said the slaver had her?”
“Yes, the last time I saw her,” I tell him, hurrying to keep pace with his enormous strides. “I need to make sure she’s safe.”
“My men wouldn’t allow a dog to be harmed,” says Borrik. “We like dogs. We keep dogs of our own. I would imagine the slaver left her with us, just the same as he left you. She’s probably being cared for in our kennels. I promise I will see to her safety when I return to the castle.”
I keep trudging onward, reassured. I can’t believe how gracious this huge alien has turned out to be. Even if I won’t know him for very long, out of all the Kyrzons in the world, I feel incredibly lucky to have been given to this particular one.
* * *
“That’s the cabin up ahead,” grunts Borrik maybe ten minutes later.
I squint, and I can just barely make out the blurry outline of a structure through the falling snow. We make our way over to it, and Borrik struggles mightily to pull the door open with more than a foot of snow blocking the entrance. I hurry inside, and then the Kyrzon does the same, the wind slamming the door shut behind him.
I look now around the cabin, illuminated only by Borrik’s electric lantern. It’s rustic, but incredibly cozy, with interlocking logs for walls and a big fireplace.
“Nice place,” I say to Borrik, glad to be inside.
“I stay here often in the winter,” the alien replies proudly, taking off his backpack. “I keep it stocked with necessities at all times. You should be very comfortable here. You know how to make a fire?”
I hesitate. The truth is, I’ve never made a fire before. Technology in Human Territory is primitive in many ways, with most of our ancestor’s equipment having been destroyed when their ship crashed, but I’m lucky enough to live in a building with central heating. Despite how rough parts of my world may be, making a fire is a skill I just haven’t ever needed to master.
Borrik senses my reluctance. “Have you ever made a fire before?”
“No,” I admit, feeling a little embarrassed.
His face softens. “I’ll help you,” he says, “but then I really need to be heading back. This weather isn’t going to get any easier to travel in.”
I watch as the Kyrzon gathers sticks and dried moss from a box next to the fireplace and builds a cone-shaped structure, then adds bigger pieces of wood on top. He then uses what looks like a small electrical device to create a spark, lighting the moss. Before I know it, orange flames are spreading, and a few minutes later, the fire is dancing lazily over the wood.
“Here,” says Borrik, grabbing a log from the stack against the wall and throwing it onto the fire. “This should keep you warm for a while. When it starts to burn down, just put another log on top.”
He takes a bundle out of his pack and hands it to me. “Here are the items you were sent with,” he hands me another bundle, “and here are some food items. I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow, but there should be enough food to last several days, just in case.”
“Thank you,” I say as Borrik puts his backpack on and heads for the door, looking rushed. “I really appreciate all your help. And thanks for, you know. Letting me go. I know you could have chosen to keep me.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he replies. “I’m sorry again for what has happened to you. I would stay longer to see that you are comfortable, but I am concerned about the weather.”
“I understand,” I say, feeling a surprising sense of disappointment at the idea of Borrik leaving. In a weird way, I’m finding myself enjoying the big alien’s company. There’s something about his gruff, masculine presence that I like being around.
Borrik turns the handle of the door to the outside and tries to push it open. The door doesn’t budge. He frowns, then pushes again, harder. Nothing.
“Dammit,” says the Kyrzon, “the snow outside must be too deep. I’m really going to have to force it open.”
I watch as he throws his whole body against the door, growling with the effort. The door strains, pushing open not more than an inch. I hear the wood creaking as he continues to struggle, his face screwed up with concentration.
Finally, Borrik slumps against the wooden door of the cabin, defeated.
“It’s no use,” he growls. “We’re snowed in.”
Chapter Nine
My stomach does a little flippy maneuver. Not a full-on backflip, just a little half-somersault or something. The idea of being trapped in this cabin overnight with Borrik, the huge, jacked alien war chief is... well, it makes me feel all sorts of things.
First of all, nervous and a little bit awkward, because I’m still wearing my wet winter clothes, which I would really like to get out of. Truth be told, I had actually really been looking forward to the idea of stripping naked and warming myself by the fire as soon as Borrik left. I can’t exactly do that if I don’t have the cabin to myself.
And then there’s the issue of sleeping arrangements. I steal a look around the cabin and see that it only contains one single, enormous bed. It’s obviously sized for a Kyrzon, but even so, sharing with the chief would certainly be... cozy.
Borrik looks awkward too. It’s obvious that he hadn’t planned to stay here. He starts to take off his winter gear, putting each item on a rack next to the fireplace.
“You should hang up your things here by the fire,” he tells me. “They’ll dry off much quicker that way.”
“Thanks,” I say nervously, joining him next to the fire. I pull off my hat, scarf, gloves, cloak, and jacket, hanging them on the rack as he suggested. We both stand next to the fire, holding our hands out to the flames, taking in some much-needed warmth. Neither of us speaks.
“Have y
ou ever met a Kyrzon before?” Borrik asks me finally.
“No,” I tell him. “Unless you count the one who captured me. I guess I technically met him.”
I see Borrik’s eyes flash at the mention of the slaver. “I do not approve of the trading of human Brides,” he tells me. “The Bride auctions themselves are an injustice, but to steal a woman who is not even bound for the auctions, and force her to be a Bride... It is not right.”
“Well, you didn’t have anything to do with it,” I say. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”
His expression softens. “I am glad that you think that.”
“Have you ever met a human before?” I ask. I may as well get to know him, considering we’re stuck in this cabin together.
He hesitates. “There was a time when I would go to the auctions often. If that counts as meeting, than I have met many humans. But that was many years ago. And you are the first who I have spoken to.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned, I’m the first human you’ve ever met,” I tell him with a smile. “Glad to meet you.”
I hold out my hand for him to shake. I don’t know why, I’m just feeling playful. But Borrik doesn’t shake it, just stares at it in confusion.
“Why are you showing me your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“I’m just being silly,” I say, putting my hand away. “You know, like a handshake, because I’m the first human you’ve met. Never mind.”
Of course my dumb attempt at a joke didn’t land. Why am I so awkward?
“What is a handshake?” Borrik asks, still frowning.
Now it’s my turn to frown. What is a handshake? What kind of question is that?
“This is a human custom, yes?” Borrik asks, holding out his hand and shaking it rapidly, as though he has a tremor. “Is it like this?”
I laugh, realizing that shaking hands must be something Kyrzons don’t do. “No, it’s like this,” I tell him, holding out my hand. “You take my hand in yours, and then we shake. Here, take my hand and I’ll show you.”
The alien wraps his huge hand around mine, absolutely dwarfing it. His skin is rough, weathered, and his palm is big enough to cover my entire fist. and I feel incredibly feminine to see this firsthand evidence of how much bigger he is than me. I’m pretty sure I have normal-sized hands, but compared to him, they look like a child’s.
“So this is shaking hands?” he asks, still holding mine. He’s not really doing it right, more like holding onto my entire fist, but it’s close enough.
“Yes,” I say, a blush creeping into my cheeks as he continues to touch me. I don’t make any move for him to release my hand. I’m enjoying the contact.
He lets go a few moments later. “And what does a handshake between humans indicate?”
“It’s just a greeting,” I tell him. “We do it to say hi to each other. Or, we do it sometimes. Not all the time.”
“I see,” says Borrik. “Humans are fascinating creatures.”
Chapter Ten
“Do Kyrzons celebrate holidays?” I ask Borrik as we sit next to the fire together.
“Indeed! In fact, there is a holiday that we observe tomorrow. Christmas, it is called. Today is what we would call Christmas Eve Day.”
My jaw just about drops in surprise. “You celebrate Christmas? I thought Christmas was a human holiday!”
“I believe it is,” says Borrik, “but Kyrzons have been interbreeding with humans for many, many years. Your peoples’ traditions have had some impact.”
“How do Kyrzons celebrate Christmas?” I ask, pleased to have this in common with him.
“By eating and drinking,” Borrik laughs. “The same way we celebrate everything.”
“You don’t do Christmas trees?”
“Christmas trees?” the Kyrzon repeats.
“Trees that you decorate to celebrate Christmas,” I explain. “In my settlement, we have one in the town square with lights and everything.”
“I have not heard of this,” he says, “but it sounds quite pleasant. Perhaps you can show me, and we can set up a Christmas tree near the castle.”
“Yeah, sure!” I say excitedly, “Except Christmas is tomorrow, which doesn’t give us much time to set up a tree. Really, you’re supposed to set it up before Christmas.”
I’m having such a good time talking to Chief Borrik that I’m not even worried about the situation I’m in. Who cares about the kidnapping, or the blizzard? I’m in a cabin in front of a warm fire, talking to an incredibly handsome man who somehow seems to find me captivating.
Ah, shit. I have a crush on him, don’t I?
“What happens if you don’t set up your tree before Christmas?” Borrik asks excitedly. It seems like he’s having fun learning about human Christmas traditions.
I laugh. “Nothing happens, it just means you didn’t get your tree up in time,” I say. “The whole idea is that you get to look at the tree in the weeks leading up to Christmas.”
“I see,” says the Kyrzon.
The conversation fizzles out, and we’re left with what feels like a very thick silence between us. The clear fact of the chemistry between us is impossible to ignore. If this were a human man sitting next to me, I might be getting some pretty specific ideas about where I’d want the evening to be heading next.
With Borrik, though, I have no idea how to proceed. I’m attracted to him, there’s no denying that, but, like, why the hell am I even thinking about this? This is a Kyrzon war chief I’m dealing with, the leader of a clan of savage aliens. Not exactly relationship material. In a couple of days, I’ll be back in Human Territory running cargo, and he’ll be here with his clan doing... whatever it is that Kyrzons do. Fighting, or something. Aliening around.
But at the same time, what do I have to lose? It’s not like I’m going to have another opportunity to get with a Kyrzon.
No. Bad Tessa. Stupid Tessa. Getting with a Kyrzon is not something I need to have on my bucket list, thank you very much. That’s the kind of dumb shit that will get me killed. Thanks to Borrik, I will soon be headed home to Human Territory, rather than spending the rest of my life as a captive breeder to a savage alien. I do not need to do anything to mess that up.
Besides, he probably isn’t even interested in me in that way. For fuck’s sake, I was literally given to him as a gift and he decided to return me. If his interest in me is of the carnal variety, he sure has a funny way of showing it. Even that gleam he gets behind his eye when he looks at me is probably just my imagination. If the chief really wanted me, he would have chosen to keep me.
“You said you used to go to the auctions?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I don’t really know what my goal is here, I just want to probe him a little.
“Yes,” says Borrik, not looking at me. He doesn’t seem fully comfortable with the topic.
“Why did you stop going?”
The Kyrzon chief turns to face me fully, and his expression is impossible for me to read.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, not wanting to upset him. “You don’t have to answer.”
The corners of his lips curl up, just enough to let me know he isn’t displeased. He strokes his short beard, looking like he’s thinking.
“I don’t know if a human will understand this,” he says finally. “Our worlds are so very different.”
“Try me,” I say. “I’ve got all night and nothing better to do.”
He smiles slightly. “Okay. Let me think how best to explain it to you... Tessa, I went into battle for the first time when I was 15 years old. By the age of 20, I was a lieutenant in my clan, and had killed more men than I could count. By the time I was 30, I was leading my own clan into battle as a war chief.”
I listen, my attention hanging on his words. He continues: “Meanwhile, your human Brides are auctioned at the age of 20, and they know nothing of the world. I remember my first auction. Three women were sold that day. When the first of them stepped up to the block, I thought she was the most beautiful th
ing I had ever seen. So small and fragile. So innocent. So scared.”
Borrik stares into the fire, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. “Every Bride I have ever seen at auction has been terrified. And rightfully so. The life of a Kyrzon is violent and brutal. How could I take one of those soft, shivering little things off of the auction block and bring her into a world so cruel?”
The Kyrzon’s face hardens. “Tessa, I am an animal. A base destroyer of life. I am not ashamed of my role, but I know it. I would not inflict this way of living upon a woman. Women are innocent, beautiful. Everything that I am not.”
The alien keeps staring into the fire, and I feel a powerful desire to reach out and take his hand, or to squeeze his arm, or something. Some way to touch him, to reassure him that I don’t see him as the monster he obviously believes himself to be. Instead, I just keep sitting next to him, wishing I was less shy and better with people. He keeps talking:
“Every time I would go to the auctions, I would see this soft, beautiful thing on the block that I desired. Desired so much.” Borrik lets out a throaty sigh. “My urges are primal, and I indulge them on the battlefield by the point of my spear. But those urges are nothing compared to the desire I feel when I look upon a woman.”
For a moment, he falls silent, and the obvious implication of how his words relate to me hang in the air between us. I shift in my seat, intensely aware of how close he is sitting next to me, of how I can feel the warmth emanating from his body.
“It would not be right for me to bring a woman into this world, however much I might desire it,” Borrik finishes finally, still not making eye contact. “That is my belief.”
I take a moment to process everything he just said before I reply. “What about a Kyrzon woman?” I ask finally, unsure what else to say. “Would that be different?”
Borrik lets out a laugh, dispelling some of the tension between us. “Tessa, if you can find me a Kyrzon woman, I would love to meet her. In my entire life, I have met maybe seven or eight. None currently available. Female births in my species are extremely rare. For most Kyrzons, purchasing a human Bride is the only possible way to acquire a mate.” He winks. “Besides, between you and me, human women are much prettier.”
