The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3)

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The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3) Page 11

by Poppy Rhys


  Pulling a dagger from the small belt holding up his leathers, he sliced open the red fruit quickly and dug out the pulpy orange seeds with his fingers.

  Finley grimaced, even though her stomach grumbled with hunger upon seeing food and no longer flip flopping up and down her body.

  He took a step closer, holding the fruit to her. She eyed him warily, resulting in him nodding his head once as if to encourage her to take the food.

  Hesitantly, she reached out a hand, keeping her other arm tightly against her chest, and snatched the offered food.

  His expression turned smug as he sunk down to his haunches.

  She had half a mind to throw the damn food in his face.

  But she didn’t. She was too hungry to waste perfectly good grub.

  When she didn’t do anything with the fruit in her hand, he took a bite of his own like he was trying to show her how to eat.

  Finley scowled.

  Of course she knew how to eat, she just wasn’t sure she trusted it.

  His nightmare teeth sliced through the soft fruit too easily.

  “Where am I?”

  Hunter tilted his head to the side, as if he was examining her.

  “I know you can understand me,” she grumbled.

  He stared. Finley huffed and repeated herself.

  That time he stood, his full height intimidating by itself. When he took a step closer, she took a quick one back. He paused, holding up his free hand in the universal ‘it’s okay’ gesture.

  It most definitely was not okay. The last time she checked, kidnapping was illegal.

  Universally!

  Finley watched him get closer. His long arm reached out toward her quickly, like a striking serpent. Before she could react, he laid it upon her breastbone, his other hand that was suddenly empty of the fruit gripped her shoulder.

  “No touching!”

  He didn’t flinch, he simply peered down into her face. In the next instant, he was bending to rest his forehead against hers in an uncomfortably intimate closeness. His flattened nose trailed the side of her face as he inhaled, as if he were putting the scent of her skin to memory.

  The thought made her hyperaware of the smell of his skin wafting off him like squiggly waves of heat.

  It was familiar, but stronger now. Natural. Clean. Like campfire smoke and dry leaves in the cool season. It made her throat contract, and her stomach flutter to life.

  “Mmm…” he breathed, a sound of hunger in that rumble.

  And that groan, oh, that groan.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, her fingers curled, and then, and then…

  “No,” she choked, gulping repeatedly. “No!” Her voice was stronger, back to normal on the second emission.

  “Where am I?” She questioned, her remembered irritation taking the stage as she pushed him away. He let her, taking a step back, as she guessed she wouldn’t have been able to move him otherwise.

  She was angry, confused, and upset with her own traitorous body. She woke up in a jungle half naked, in some shack with a beast lurking nearby, instead of home on Dor Nye, like the alien before her had promised on Vishik.

  “On Yari. YutYut,” he replied, thumping the ground below them with his strange hand-like foot.

  Finley’s eyes bugged.

  “YutYut?” she glared, her teeth gnashing together. “As in the YutYut Galaxy?”

  The YutYut Galaxy planets were inhabited by various warrior species.

  Barbarians, more like, which explained a lot.

  She’d read tales about the beasts that roamed its planets, and the tribes that ruled them. Master hunters, and storytellers, their beliefs steeped in nonsense and folklore.

  He nodded.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Inhale for calm. Exhale.

  “To be with me,” he said simply, picking up his fruit from the ground. “To give me young.”

  Finley snorted before she could stop herself.

  Chuckled.

  Silence.

  Her eyes narrowed speculatively, her tongue seeking her cheek as she momentarily squirmed with her rising suspicion that he was serious.

  He took another bite of his fruit, those razor teeth slicing through the soft flesh like a knife to butter, without a care in the world.

  He was serious.

  “You’re shitting me!” she shrilled, shifting her weight onto her other foot as her mouth flopped open, closed, and open again as she grappled with reality while her brain tried to string together coherent thoughts.

  “You-” Fin croaked, her throat squeezing with her mounting emotional cocktail of fear, shock, and unchecked anger.

  Again she tried to speak.

  “You abducted me not once, but twice,” she seethed that last word, the C dragging from her clenched teeth like some slithering serpent upon the ground, “and expect to turn me into some kind of baby makin’ machine?”

  Silence.

  Her eyes bugged, eyelids peeling back over the orbs so severely they stung and watered.

  “What kind of backwater planet are you from?!”

  Hunter’s brow pulled low, like he was offended.

  “I want to go home. Take me home,” she emphasised the last word.

  “This is home,” he said, her attention momentarily darting to his full lips that pulled into a vicious smirk.

  “No, Dor Nye is my home,” Fin swallowed, not liking where the conversation was headed. “This is your home.”

  “Yari is your home now.”

  There it was.

  The bomb she sensed was ticking, itching to explode and devastate her world as she knew it.

  The next breath lodged in her craw like it might choke the life out of her, causing her eyes to water and her skin to tingle with the feeling of being climbed by an army of ants.

  He flattened a searing palm over her naked abdomen, startling her and causing the flesh there to quiver.

  “You are mine,” his full, stupidly tempting lips curved into a loathsome grin. “Mi’ska,” he sneered, his free hand cupped the side of her face and his fingers slipped into her hair before he gripped the tresses possessively. “You belong to me now, human.”

  That word. She remembered that word, but his hold on her was sending her brain into dark depths, her concentration faltering.

  “I belong to no one!”

  Her voice was breathy, her chest rising and falling as she tried to focus on his calculating eyes and not his mouth.

  His brow pulled low, highlighting the small, hairless scar that slashed through his right eyebrow as his gaze slid over the features of her face

  “This body,” he rumbled, that voice hitting her straight at her core, “is mine. It became mine when I marked you. No other will touch you again. Do you understand me, little human?”

  Was that rhetorical?

  “You will bear my young, and submit to me.”

  “Like hell I will,” she ground out between clenched teeth.

  The audacity!

  Hunter gave a humorless laugh, startling her, like she said the silliest thing.

  Her stomach grumbled.

  “Eat,” he tapped the back of her hand that still held the fruit before he released her and backed away, sinking back into a crouch as his lilac eyes watched her.

  His gaze was tangible. Heated. Territorial. Like he really believed her body belonged to him.

  Her stomach loudly protested again and she grimaced.

  “Where are my clothes?” she asked, taking a nibble of the food, relieved that it tasted good. If he wasn’t watching her, and getting satisfaction out of feeding his captive, she would gobble the piece up in no time flat.

  Hunter pointed upward.

  Finley took another bite as she lifted her gaze, slowly spinning around as she tried to see what tree he was gesturing to. “I don’t see them.”

  He gave a short, mirthless laugh. It annoyed her further that the sound was pleasant, deep, making her gulp, and not just to swallow
the bite of fruit.

  “Think, little human,” he pointed in the same direction.

  Finley stopped chewing, looking upward once more. Her eyes narrowed as it clicked in her mind. She slowly lowered her gaze back down until she stared at him.

  “You left my clothes in space?!”

  Hunter half-grinned, like he was proud of himself.

  “You would be too warm,” he volunteered. “You’re better in ru’mi.” He fingered his own loincloth.

  “No,” she shook her head. “I’m half naked in… whatever you just said. I need a shirt!”

  “Are you cold?”

  “It’s more… of a modesty issue,” she glared, tightening her arm over her chest again.

  He looked unconvinced.

  “I just need a shirt, okay?”

  “You’ll get heat stroke, and die,” he waved a hand. “You won’t escape me that easily.”

  Finley pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She had to convince him to take her back home, but first, she had to figure out a way to coax him into giving her a damn shirt.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Hunter picked up a pebble from the ground, rubbing the smooth sides in between his fingers while he watched his new female eat and glare at him.

  She’s eating slow on purpose.

  They’d shared a meal once, on Vishik, and she certainly ate faster than she did now.

  He had patience though, and would wait there all through the day if that is how long it took for her to finish.

  She would eat, he would make sure of that. He wouldn’t be outsmarted by a human and whatever games entered her tiny mind.

  After all he’d gone through to earn his position among his people and have the chance to find a mate, even if she was gained through a moment of weakness and born of a second-rate species.

  She was his Mi’ska now. The least he could do was keep her alive.

  I’m going to regret this. Should’ve saved himself the misery he was sure would likely come with her sharp tongue and immature antics.

  Being back on Yari, his time on Vishik seemed to matter less and less. The longer he spent feeling the ground of his home planet beneath his naked feet, the brighter his future felt, despite one human female.

  Even if he felt a little jipped going through Shuluh only to end up in his current situation.

  The Shuluh had been long, grueling, dangerous, and lonely. One complete term of many challenges for any warrior that volunteered, all for the chance to prove oneself worthy of the Shu’Lee title.

  A title he earned.

  Shuluh happened once every generation when the majority of males reached maturity. Many gave up, many were injured, and some died. It was the way of the Shuluh.

  The term of challenges prepared each participant for the final task; the killing of the weqna.

  Weqna were sacred beasts to his people. Untouchable, except during Shuluh. Elusive, massive, intelligent creatures.

  He was proud of his accomplishment in besting the creature when his time came, though saddened he had to take its life. The pelt of the beast he’d killed was tucked away in his home back with his tribe, as he intended to gift it to his female when the ceremony was complete.

  He clenched his teeth, eyes flickering over Finley, unsure if he wanted to gift the hide to her.

  He’d been assured by Roki that his home still stood, everything just as it was, even though it had been nearly six terms since his last time there.

  Only five warriors completed the Shuluh for his generation. Only five warriors that earned the Shu’Lee title, and gained the blessing of the Tishani, their spiritual leader.

  Five warriors given the chance to find a female of their choosing from another race of beings to breathe new life and blood into the Yarian people, so they might continue to evolve.

  He was curious about the other Shu’Lee’s. What species did they choose? What were the females like that carried their mark?

  A black cloud shadowed his mood as he wondered if he would show up with the weakest of choices.

  The journey home, he’d read more about humans, and unfortunately, learned plenty. Most of which seemed unimpressive.

  His cheek ticked as he remembered his omission back on Vishik. He’d promised to take the human home, but never clarified that it would be her new home, not her old one.

  That mattered little now, though.

  She was here, and so was he. Both home, where they could start their life together. When the joining ceremony was complete, she would be his, and he would be hers, until they both returned to the dirt.

  It seemed she was getting the better end of this deal.

  He would fulfill his duties as her male; be a good provider, a fierce protector, and one day, a father to the young she would provide him with.

  She would want for nothing.

  He reminded himself it was normal for females of the Shu’Lee’s to want to leave Yari in their first days upon the planet. The Tishani had told him this.

  Finley would be no different, he suspected. Most likely worse.

  His mishk fever had faded during the weeks it took them to get home, but seeing her in nothing but a ru’mi, he wanted to drag her down to the leaves and rut inside of her like the fever was back.

  Ah, fuck.

  Though he imagined she wouldn’t be up for that, judging by her black stare.

  He smirked when she finally finished the food he provided.

  ****

  Hunter was doing that evil grin thing again, and she had the suspicion it was because she’d begrudgingly eaten her piece of fruit.

  She licked her fingers clean, wishing the food had been disgusting instead of delicious, because she really wanted another piece.

  “How long was I asleep?” Finley asked, knowing the YutYut Galaxy wasn’t just a hop, skip, and a jump from Vishik or Dor Nye, but unsure of the exact travel time.

  The last thing she remembered was being jabbed in the neck with a needle, then she woke up in a beastly bed of furs.

  He stood, taking steps until he was back in her immediate proximity, and then he was walking past her, disappearing into the bush.

  Finley frowned, and her gaze swept the greenery around her before she realized maybe he wasn’t coming back.

  “Wait!” she yelled, scurrying into the foliage after him. Once she fought through the thicket and stepped into another small clearing, she still didn’t see him.

  Her heart kicked up a beat as every noise around her seemed to become louder and louder until each squawk, each screech, and every rustle of leaves pricked her ears.

  Finley turned to look behind her, eyes roving the colorful flora. She had no idea how far away she was from the cabin, and there was no way she could navigate the jungle by herself.

  “Hunter?” she whispered.

  “Keep up, human.”

  She jerked, whirling around to watch him duck under a low hanging branch.

  “Don’t scare me like that!”

  The alien began chuckling as he deftly navigated the jungle while she trailed his heels.

  “So hilarious,” she said between gritted teeth.

  “I thought that too.”

  “That was sarcasm.”

  She closed her eyes momentarily, taking a deep, calming breath.

  “How long was I asleep, Hunter?” She felt like she was beginning to sound like a broken record.

  “How many younglings will you give me?” he asked casually.

  Now he was sounding like the broken record.

  “That isn’t funny,” she huffed, trying to keep up with him. “You can’t just abduct people and expect them to be okay with it. I’m an actual person, with my own life, and dreams, and goals. I am more than just my uterus!”

  “You talk too much, human,” was all he said.

  She glared at his back.

  “I have a career, and clients that need me, and family,” Finley went on. “Oh God, my f
amily,” she groaned. “Imagine what they’re thinking right now, or who they’ve sent to look for m-”

  She squawked as she tripped over a tree root, stubbing her big toe and tumbling to the ground.

  “Sunuvabitch--” she choked out, holding onto her foot and rocking back and forth to try and get rid of the painful throb. Hunter crouched down before her, his warm, calloused hand gripping her ankle.

  “Let go of me,” she snapped, trying to pull her foot back. He held onto it with ease, like she was nothing more than an upset youngling.

  “You don’t talk and walk very good.”

  His finger gingerly touched the tip of her toe where the skin was cracked and bleeding.

  “Ouch,” she yelped, trying to jerk her foot away once more to no avail. “Again, that isn’t funny. Stop touching it!”

  “Your flesh is too soft.”

  He said this like it was an inconvenience.

  “Well, sorry. I don’t usually go traipsing barefoot through jungles in my spare time.”

  He nodded, like that made sense.

  She clenched her teeth, exhaling jaggedly as he touched her toe again, a small sting zipping through her entire foot. In the next blink he was tucking his arms underneath her, lifting her body from the ground and then standing.

  “What are you doing? Put me down,” she struggled against his chest.

  “I’m taking you to water.”

  “I can walk.”

  “I walk faster.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I’m carrying you in my arms, or over my shoulder,” he glared at her, his eyes daring her to test him. “Your choice.”

  She bit her tongue, the memory of being carried like a dangling sack still very vivid in her mind.

  Silently, she covered her chest with one arm as she went to drape the other around his neck, remembering too late about the wound in her shoulder.

  Her body tensed, preparing for the pain to sizzle her nerves, but nothing came.

  What?

  Her fingers quickly touched her neck, the tips feeling nothing but the raised bumps of a scar. No stitches, no soreness, no dried blood or gummed up scabs.

  That was impossible. Just yesterday-

  “How long was I asleep, Hunter?” she asked faintly, a crease pinching her brow as she finally curved her arm around his neck.

 

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