by Ruby Dixon
Or bathing. I’m pretty sure his entire body is covered in a layer of dirt. If he doesn’t wear clothes, though, I guess there’s no point in bathing?
He watches me, eyes narrowed, and runs a stone along the edge of the knife, sharpening it. His movements are slow, and I can’t tell if it’s because he wants to seem threatening, or if he’s trying not to scare me. Given that he’s holding a knife? I’m going for threatening.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer, and I realize I’m talking in English. Whoops. I learned the old sa-khui tongue — sakh — while on the ship, so I try that instead. He doesn’t respond to it, either.
I…don’t know what to do. Is he deaf? He’s watching me, but he’s not responding to my attempts to talk to him.
“I’m Harlow,” I say. “Where are my friends?”
Again, there’s no response.
I press my hands flat on the ground. There’s a pebble under one palm, and I pick it up and flick it across the room to see if he reacts.
He follows the pebble and then frowns at me, a fierce snarl of bared teeth that makes me shiver. He’s not deaf. Okay, he’s just choosing not to talk to me.
Well, what the hell?
“Did Vektal send you?” I try. “Did Aehako and Haeden make it back to the caves? Have I been out for a long time?”
His gaze moves back to the knife and he runs the stone along the edge again, sharpening it.
“You can’t understand me at all, can you?” I’m shocked by this. There’s not another tribe of sa-khui, is there? But this man is alone, and he doesn’t understand the language of his people. I look around the small cave. Back in the tribal caves, each family has done their best to make their caves seem like home. Baskets and blankets fill the corners, and everywhere there are stored food, herbs, and daily implements.
Here, there’s not much of anything. There’re a few pouches tossed into one corner of the cave, but there are no blankets, no bed, no fire pit, no nothing.
“Do you live here?” I whisper.
The stranger stares at me for a long moment, and then he slowly gets to his feet and begins to approach me.
Eep. I push back against the cave wall, trying to shrink away from him. There’s nowhere for me to go, and I cringe as he stalks toward me, closing my eyes. There’s nothing but the sound of our two cooties singing to each other, and my chest vibrates from the force of mine.
Oh no, no no no.
Not this guy.
But there’s no denying that my body responds when he stands near me. I can feel my skin flush with need, and moisture begins to seep between my legs, as if I’m completely and utterly turned on at the moment. I mean, sure he’s big and brawny and could probably carry a girl like she’s nothing—
Oh God. This is really bad. Like, worse than worst-case-scenario bad.
I absolutely do not know what to do. My pulse speeds with a mixture of anxiety and response to my khui, and I hate that it starts to pound between my legs. Georgie wasn’t lying when she said that resonating was like Spanish Fly on crack. It feels urgent, like I should grab this guy - this filthy - stranger and fling him to the ground and impale myself on his dick.
And then what? Have his baby? No thank you, cootie.
I squeeze my thighs together tightly, willing my body to calm the fuck down.
Fingers touch my hair, and even though he’s gentle, my head still throbs. I squeeze one eye open, ready to pull away, and realize I’m pretty much face to face with his erect cock. I stare at it for a long moment, my mouth dry. I’m no virgin, and like any girl, I really like the sight of a nice cock. This guy – whoever he is – has a really really nice one, but that just might be the cootie talking. He’s not circumcised, of course, but there’s no denying that he’s just the right length and girth, and my traitorous mind wonders how that would feel.
My cootie thrums harder in my chest. Jesus. I feel like I’m being betrayed on all sides.
He touches my head wound and I jerk away. “Ow!” I slap at his hands, unable to help myself.
The man grunts and pads away on bare feet, seemingly unconcerned with my reaction. I scowl at him and touch my wound myself. It’s covered in some sort of gloppy paste, probably a native remedy of some kind.
“Lucky me,” I mutter.
He grunts again and returns to his crouch across the cave. He doesn’t pick up the knife again, but just watches me, his hands on his knees.
I look over at the mouth of the cave. It’s open to the world, and I can see snow gleaming outside in the thin sunlight. Most sa-khui have decorative hides stretched on bone frames that they push in front of the cave opening to give the semblance of privacy or to keep out the harsh weather. Not this guy. “You a hardcore survivalist or something?” He doesn’t respond, and I sigh. “Of course you’re quiet. I don’t suppose you can tell me what happened to Aehako and Haeden? The two wounded guys?”
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t move.
I pantomime horns. “Two big men? With me? Look like you?”
Nothing but a stare.
I worry my lip, thinking. I can’t stay here if they’re wounded and waiting for me to return. What if they die? I don’t think they trust the computer’s technology enough to go back into the ship and ask it to fix their wounds.
I’m going to have to escape, somehow.
“Listen,” I say. “You’re a nice guy and all, and this cootie thing is inconvenient, but I really need to go.” I ignore the insistent thrumming in my chest and start to get to my feet.
He snarls at me, baring his teeth again.
I squeak and drop back down to the ground. Okay, so he’s not a talker, but he’s really good with nonverbal communication. I know ‘sit down and shut up’ when I hear it.
He can’t stay here and stare at me forever though, right? So I just need to wait for him to get bored. I should pretend to sleep. I lean back against the wall and close my eyes, making it seem as if I’m going to take a nap. I’m able to keep my eyes open a hair, just enough that I can see out through my lashes. It takes forever, but he eventually stops staring at me and begins to work on something again, his back to me.
Should I try and escape now?
It’s almost like fate hears my silent pleas. In the next moment, the alien gets up and stalks to the front of the cave. He heads out into the daylight and I can hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow as he heads off to the left.
Surely it’s not going to be that easy, is it?
I snatch the bone knife off the floor then jump to my feet. Every muscle in my body aches and feels cramped, and my head throbs at the sudden movement. Too bad. I creep to the front of the cave and see him standing a short distance away, looking off at the distant mountains, his hand shielding his eyes. His horns jut ominously from his brow, and his tail flicks as if irritated.
“Time to go, Harlow,” I breathe and race out into the snow, heading in the opposite direction. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t really care. Away seems like the best answer at the moment.
I can’t really race in the snow, though. Human feet aren’t made for handling the snowdrifts of Not-Hoth and I sink down with each step. It’s like trying to run through mud, and I move slowly. I’m heaving and panting with exertion, my muscles straining, but I can’t stop.
An angry, wordless cry echoes behind me from somewhere, and I know I’ve been spotted. “Shit!” I try to move faster, but my legs feel heavy and weak, and my head feels like it’s going to explode with every beat of my pulse.
As I run, I can hear his pounding footsteps getting closer, and wild panic sets into me. I clutch the knife, ready to attack if he grabs me. Let one of those arms try and wrap around my waist and I’ll stab the fuck out of him.
A moment later, I’m slammed to the ground on my stomach, a heavy weight resting on top of me.
I scream in rage and fear, and I thrash against him, slashing wildly behind me with the knife. I’m desperate to hit anyth
ing. I don’t care what as long as he lets go of me.
One big hand closes around my wrist and pins it to the snow over my head. Fingers tighten around my wrist bones until I whimper and release the knife, and he bats it away from my grip.
I kick at him, and then a moment later, I’m somehow on my back and his big body is on top of me. My breasts heave angrily and I glare at him. He’s pissed that I ran. It’s evident from his face. “Good,” I snarl at him. “My cootie may be into Stockholm Syndrome but I am not!”
He lets me struggle against him for what feels like forever, and he’s not tiring at all. Frustrated, I give one last hard full-body heave to try and fling him off, but I’m unsuccessful. He probably weighs twice as much as I do.
In the process, though, my clothes have somehow come open and the next thing I know, my tits are bare, my tunic lacings having come completely undone in the struggle. I gasp in shock at the cold air – and at being bared to the waist.
My captor’s noticed this, too. His hands grip my wrists. Not hard, not painful any more, but just holding me down. He’s not looking anywhere but at my breasts, though, and the expression on his face reminds me that he’s had a boner the entire time he’s held me captive. Shit. My khui begins to sing even louder, the vibration so fierce it makes my breasts tremble. Double shit. I can feel his khui’s response to mine, can feel the thrumming moving through his body, too. His cock presses against one of my thighs, hard and insistent, and I’m half worried – and half anticipating – what’s going to come next.
The barbarian gazes down at my breasts for a long, long moment. Then, he leans in and inhales deeply, as if filling his nose with my scent.
For some reason, this strikes me as incredibly erotic, and I moan.
My moan is echoed in his throat. The groan that escapes him sounds utterly sexual, and he inhales deeply again, his nose rubbing against my skin. My nipples harden at the touch of his skin to mine. Those traitors want more touching. It doesn’t matter that he’s filthy, or a stranger, or that he’s kidnapped me. My nipples want attention and they want it now.
As I watch, he rubs his nose against my skin, in the valley between my breasts. It’s the place where the khui resonance is the most insistent, and a whimper escapes me at the sensation. His tongue flicks out, and I feel him lick my skin, tasting me.
I can’t handle it. It’s too much. Another whimper escapes me, and even though I want him to rip my clothing off and take me here in the snow, the word that tears from my throat is, “No.”
He lifts his head and stares at me.
“No?” he echoes.
Chapter Two
RUKH
I know this word.
I’m so excited at the familiarity of it that I forget all about how delicious my female is, how she’s thrumming under me and it makes my cock so hard I can barely think straight.
I know this ‘no’ word.
“No,” I repeat again, excited.
“No,” she agrees, and jerks at one of the wrists I’m holding pinned.
I release it, because I’m curious what she’s going to do. I know that ‘no’ means ‘do not’ and so I stop. As I watch, she closes her furs over her skin, hiding her teats from my gaze.
She doesn’t want me to touch her or lick her skin.
For some reason, this causes a strange ache in my heart, and the lonely feeling returns. She is mine, this female. Why doesn’t she like me? Am I not strong? As strong as the bad ones? But she’s gazing at me with fear and worry in her eyes, and she repeats the word again. “No.”
I nod slowly, because I remember this, too. Hazy memories of my father slip through my brain, and I point back at my cave.
“Dunwannagohbak,” she says, clutching her furs tight across her chest. “Lemmegoh.”
She’s babbling again. I’m disappointed, because I don’t know these words. “No,” I tell her. I want to communicate. I want her to know she’s mine, and that I haven’t figured her out, but I’m going to take care of her. “No!”
Her brows go down, and she smacks my chest. “Dontellmenoh!”
I bare my teeth, frustrated. I don’t have a way to communicate with her that she is mine, and she will stay with me. My father had many words, but he’s been dead for a long time, and I’ve forgotten most of them. I use the only one I have. “No.”
As I watch, her nostrils flare, and she looks as if she’s ready to spit another round of sounds at me. But then her eyes go wide, and she stares at something over my head. I turn to look.
Something large and black is slowly moving through the sky. It’s like a giant disk, except it’s made of nothing I recognize. There are strange lights flashing on it, and it gleams in the watery sunlight. It’s big, bigger than the largest cave I know of. It tilts in midair, then continues on its course, speeding up. It’s heading right for the mountains in the distance.
“Theyvegotkira!” The strange woman cries. “No!”
But the thing keeps moving in slow motion, and as I stare, it crashes into the side of the mountain, crumpling. A fiery explosion lights the air, and smoke billows forth. I’ve never seen anything like it. I get to my feet, awed and a bit frightened at the same time.
I hear the woman get to her feet, as well. But instead of standing next to me, she darts away. Still she thinks to escape? With an angry growl of frustration, I snag my knife and then go after her.
She cries out when I catch her all too easily and sling her back over my shoulder. My chest immediately begins to thrum in response to touching her, and I want to explore this more. But if she won’t stay…
I’ll just have to make her.
I return to my cave. There are a few soft leather straps left from my father’s precious bag, but this female is equally precious to me. I consider for a moment, and then set her down in the corner of the cave, using my body to block the entrance. She curls up in a corner and shivers, holding her furs close to her body and watching me.
I cut straps, enough to bind her, and tie her hands and feet even as she tries to slap me away. Once she learns she is mine, this will not be necessary. I take no pleasure in her unhappy cries or her struggles. It must be done.
I can’t lose her. I won’t.
HARLOW
The asshole makes me sleep with my wrists and feet tied all night, and doesn’t even have the decency to make a fire. By the time I wake up, my hands and toes are prickling, and I’m so cold my teeth are chattering. My khui helps my body adapt, but humans still have a hard time with the weather on Not-Hoth, and right now I’d give my pinky for a warm blanket or a cup of hot cocoa.
I squirm in my bonds, my bladder full and my entire body uncomfortable. This can’t continue. I won’t survive if it continues. I have to communicate with my captor somehow, and let him know what I need. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me dead, especially not with my khui vibrating in my chest when he gets near.
As if he can hear my thoughts, the alien stirs from where he is curled upon the other side of the cave, in the dirt. No blankets for him, either. Maybe he doesn’t know how to make them? He might not need them, but I do. I’ve learned a little about tanning in the weeks that I’ve been with the alien tribe, and at the moment? I’m totally eager and ready to make my own bedding if it means warmth. It’s another thing on the mental list we’ll have to discuss, once we figure out a way to talk.
The alien gets to his feet and pads to the entrance of the cave and disappears into the bitterly cold wind, stark naked. For a moment, I have an utter feeling of fear that he’s going to just abandon me, tied up and alone in this desolate cave.
But he returns a moment later, and immediately heads for me. He unties my feet and hands and gestures that I should follow him. I do, rubbing my wrists. My feet are slightly warmer than my hands because they’re in my boots, but I’m desperate for a fire. He points at the snow in the distance, and makes a squatting motion, and I realize this is a bathroom break.
I can’t fuck this up and scare him. I ca
n’t escape, either. It’s clear I can’t outrun him, so I need to make him trust me. I gingerly step out into the deep snow, pick a rocky outcropping that looks as relatively private as I can find, and do my business. My face burns when I catch him watching me a short distance away. I know it’s because he doesn’t want me to run, but can’t a girl have some privacy? I kick snow over my ‘toilet’, then rub more snow on my hands to clean them. As I do, I look up at the sky.
There’s a smoky trail cutting through the air, and I look over in the distance. The wreck of the spaceship is still visible, like a stain on the mountain.
The reality of it hits me. Kira’s dead. Aehako and Haeden are probably dead. I’m the only one of our small party left alive. Oh God. I don’t know the way back to the tribal caves…and I’m not sure I want to go back. How would it look with just me limping back after abandoning the two hunters? Would anyone believe me if I told my side?
Probably not.
I’m fucked. A few miserable tears squeeze from my eyes and freeze on my face. I have no place to go anymore…
Except back to my captor. I look over at him, all dirty, wild hair and naked body. My khui immediately responds, and I clench my fists to ignore the arousal sweeping through me. Any logical woman would not be aroused by her filthy captor, but the khui ignores logic.
So I’m going to do my best to ignore my khui. Steeling myself, I return to the alien’s side.
His hand goes to my elbow and he steers me back into the cave. All right, then. See how good I’m playing along?
I move to the far end of the cave the moment we get inside. There’s too much of a breeze at the entrance, and the small cave isn’t big enough to provide a ton of protection from the elements, which is unfortunate. I squeeze down against the rock wall, huddling.
He picks up the bonds again and re-approaches me.
“No, please,” I tell him, putting a hand up.
