by Wells, Juno
“Oh my god.” She breathed hard and fast, her heart galloping like she’d ran for miles without stopping. “Oh my god. Where am I?”
Nobody answered her question yet she’d managed to gain an audience. Marissa froze with deepening dread as a tentacled, peach-coloured creature came into view. It clung onto various branches of the bent tree it inhabited and looked as big as an octopus but far uglier—if it were possible to look uglier than an octopus at that. Revulsion coursed through Marissa when the creature’s lone, large red eye fixated on her. The scream started from deep in her belly then worked its way up her chest, through her throat. It exploded out of her in a hair-raising pitch as she regained mobility, turned around and fled.
The watch was flung from her fingers to parts unknown and Marissa didn’t stop to locate it. As far as she was concerned the watch was the reason for her current dilemma so she didn’t care if it was no longer in her possession. The sounds of the tentacle creature scuttling through the tree branches above filled her with dread. She would never be able to outrun that thing, even if she knew where she was.
The creature made a blood-curdling screech and Marissa’s heart gave way to unmatched heights of terror when something whipped at her. Marissa cried out as stinging pain raced up her arm. Tears fell uninhibited from her eyes. This was it. She was done for. She was on the verge of giving up when strong arms clamped around her waist and hauled her off the path she ran.
“No! Let me go! Let me go!” she screamed, her first instinct to fight her supposed captor. She turned and flailed her hands, slamming her fists against hardened flesh, uncaring of the pain in her left arm. Her captor forced her hands to her sides, then shook her. She grew still as she blinked away her tears to clear her vision, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.
Her captor was a man with golden-brown skin and startling silver eyes. His long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail, a few wisps of hair escaped, curving over one eyebrow. His strong jaw was coated in a light dusting of stubble, and his thick arms, broad chest and defined torso was covered in dark, indecipherable markings.
Holy. Shit. For a short moment, Marissa’s fear was washed away by amazement over the handsome stranger who gripped her upper arms. A sudden, pleasant warmth enveloped her and there was this strange sense of acceptance that being in this man’s arms was where she should be for the rest of her days. She opened her mouth to speak, though she didn’t know what to say. But he beat her to it.
“Stay,” he said in a deep and accented voice that inspired obedience. It was the only thing he said before his hands fell away from her body. He reached for the hilt of the sword secured in the scabbard at his hip and ran back out onto the clear path from which he’d rescued her.
The tentacled creature let out another screech and Marissa wailed and covered her ears from the terrible sound. It screeched again and the sound was cut off abruptly by a grunt and a disturbing squishy sound.
Marissa shuddered. She knew exactly what had happened and she wasn’t sure she wanted to face the sight. She wanted to stay right where the blue-green bushes secluded her. But when she heard a rustling somewhere far off, she sprang out from hiding.
Yep, just as awful as she’d imagined. The man was cleaning his sword free of a viscous green goo. The same green goo that leaked from the wound of the opened eye of the dead tentacle creature.
“Oh, god.” She spun away. She wanted to hurl. When she touched her injury, her fingers came away red with blood. She wanted out of this place. Out, out, out! She kept her back to the man as her brain fought to make sense of what was happening.
“It is done. Look.”
Marissa faced him, revulsion renewed at the way he’d taken one of the creatures tentacles and bound it around the others, creating a knot.
“Where am I?” she demanded then pointed at the tied beast. “What was that thing?”
“Fisoar,” he said, then he clamped his hand around the knotted tentacles and hefted the creature, the green goo leaking liberally now. “Peccan. Good meat.”
Marissa shook her head and shuffled backward. “No...this...no. I need to get out of here. Get me out of here right now!”
Frowning, the man dropped the lifeless creature and approached her. He wore dark trousers, but it did little to hide the power of his thick thighs and calves. His tall, broad frame was golden-brown sinewy muscle, his chest and forearms dusted with fine hair. Sweet Jesus, he was like some magnificent god made real. Had they met under better circumstances, Marissa doubted she’d be running away from a man like him.
And realization came to her. He was not human. Only a being with extraordinary power could have killed the creature slumped lifelessly behind him. Marissa gaped, forced to incline her head to meet his unrelenting gaze. This place—Fisoar—was far beyond Earth, and this man, he was more than that too. It could only explain the way her body reacted to his nearness. But what was he? Dear god, was he an alien?
As if to eradicate all doubts, he curved an arm around her waist and hauled her up against his powerful body. Her instant protests transformed into a startled cry when he seemed to glide—not walk—toward the tentacle creature. Grabbing onto the knotted tentacles, he held her tighter in his arms then shot up into the air. Marissa screamed, cinching her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, clinging to him like her life depended on it. Which it did. It really fricking did!
Don’t look down! But Marissa looked anyway and her heart threatened to launch from her chest straight out of her mouth. The tops of the trees beneath them sped by in a dizzying blur of colour, and she could hear nothing over the sound of the wind as it blew around them. The wind pulled her hair free of the low chignon she’d done for her birthday outing and it whipped around her face and neck. Nausea attacked her insides, coiling and growing in her stomach. Shivering with renewed fear, she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into the man’s neck.
The man’s flesh radiated heat, warming her from the chill of the wind blowing around them. He smelled good, woodsy, with a softer minty smell just below the surface. When she opened her eyes once more and gazed up into the wide stretch of yellow-peach sky, she thought how unreal her situation felt. This was not happening. She was not flying. Well, the last part was the only truth for it was not her, but the strange man with his firm body pressed against hers who defied the unbending laws of gravity.
In time, his flight slowed. She kept her eyes closed but she felt their bodies drifting down until they shook when his feet connected with solid ground.
“Stand.” The rumble of his voice in his chest vibrated against hers. She really wanted to follow his order but she found that she couldn’t. Residual terror still curled around her spine, prohibiting her from even moving a finger.
There was a squishy thump sound and then his thick fingers around her forearms pulling her hands free from his neck. Marissa opened her eyes and stared up into his mesmerizing silver gaze. Her skin warmed and her heart rate quickened at how near her face was to his. How close her lips were to his. She wondered if he’d object if she moved her head closer and—
“Stand,” he said again and he gyrated his hips. Blood rushed to Marissa’s face by the way she was intimately pressed against him. Her limbs regained motor function and she scrambled off him to her feet. Dammit, she needed to control herself. She was barely single for a few hours, yet she was already behaving like some sex-starved idiot. Hot alien guy and sex should be the last thing on her mind right now. The only thing she should be concerned about was her current plight and how to get out of it.
She eyed the dead tentacle creature on the grassy violet floor beside his feet and edged away from it.
“Where are we?” she demanded, gazing around her new surroundings. From the looks of the oddly bent trees around them, they were still somewhere in the forest. Dotted around the sparse trees were circular wooden dwellings with conical roofs. She counted seventeen of the dwellings of a similar size though she had an impression there were far
more expanding beyond what she could see. In the centre was the largest dwelling of the group.
“Home,” said the man as he picked up the tentacle creature and stalked toward the cluster of dwellings. There were people milling about the area either engaged in work or conversation. A community, thought Marissa, stumbling forward as she followed the man.
Her fear withered away and curiosity took over when she remembered her studies in cultural anthropology. She catalogued the shirtless, muscular men clad only in trousers and dusty shoes, and the slim, shapely women clothed in dresses of various colours and lengths.
They were in the community proper now, and Marissa watched with interest as the other members pressed their fingers to their foreheads and bowed their heads as the man passed. A sign of respect, she supposed. Which meant that this man held some form of power. Perhaps he was the leader of this community. It was silly but she felt a little thrill a man like him had held her close.
When the members paid their respects, they raised their heads and blinked eyes of varying silver to charcoal at her in curiosity. She smiled nervously at them, feeling so out of place among these strange people.
The man—the supposed leader—handed the tentacle creature to a young woman standing just outside the entrance of one of the dwellings. Her eyes lit up with delight and after a hasty pressing of her fingers to her forehead, she rushed inside with her new offering.
“Come,” he said as he clamped a hand on her forearm. Her heart jumped at his sudden contact. She tried pulling her hand away when another tall man with grey eyes so dark they almost looked black confronted them. His long hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail that seemed to tug at his eyebrows, giving his features a permanent fierceness. Two large scabbards hung on either sides of his hip and he glared at Marissa before turning his attention to the man.
He spoke, but she had no idea what he said because the language was far different than anything she’d ever heard in her life. However, from the tightness in his muscular body and the way he jabbed an angry finger in her direction, Marissa figured he was just as displeased as she at her being there.
Her rescuer said something in response in cool, clipped tones that held a note of steel and the new man’s glare deepened into a scowl. With another angry proclamation in his alien language and a nasty look thrown her way, he spun around and stomped off.
Marissa exhaled in relief. She’d not realized she was holding her breath or that she’d drawn closer to her rescuer in a subconscious need for protection.
“Come,” he said again, tugging her forward and this time Marissa went without complaint.
CHAPTER FOUR
Aizak
“What’s your name?”
Aizak’s eyebrows knitted when he glanced at the woman. His irritation was not borne from her question, but for the complications her sudden arrival presented. He did not enjoy surprises. He liked being abreast of a situation at all times. As such, he wasn’t sure what he disliked more: the human woman’s appearance in his life, the attraction he felt for her the moment he held her in his arms for the first time, or the realization that she, a human female, was his fated mate.
“Aizak,” he said, gathering the necessary items to attend to her injury. Settling down the medicine bottles and bandage on the table where she sat, he indicated she hand out her arm so he could inspect it.
“I’m Marissa,” she said, her voice soft. Everything about her was soft and pleasant. She smelled flowery and edible. Her body was a bit fuller than the slim women in his Ekalon tribe and Aizak found himself appreciating her round breasts and wide hips. He’d had interactions with humans before, the most recent being the human man who visited from time to time. But this woman was the first time he’d ever seen a human as anything more than weak.
She grimaced as he turned her arm to see her wound. The edges of the cut had darkened to deep purple and Aizak’s lips thinned in displeasure. A Peccan’s sting, while uncomfortable, was not deadly to his kind. But he did not know how a human’s body would fare. Still, he would use the healing methods known to work. There were no medicine men among his people because the Ekali were strong and infrequently affected by anything more than a cut or bruise. The lone serious threat to his kind were the Oidiens and an encounter with one of those beasts were often fatal.
“Is it bad?”
“No.” He cleaned the wound first with water, applied the healing salve and bandaged her arm. He had faith she would heal after rest, but if her condition worsened, he would seek advice from an elder.
“You’re a man of few words.”
Aizak tucked away the final edge of the bandage beneath the roll on her arm and met her gaze. Her eyes were an odd mix of green and gold like the rare herra flowers nestled in the most nettled parts of the Ekalon forests.
“I am not…good in your way of speech.”
She smiled at him, her pink lips begging him to taste them. Aizak bristled. He was a glorified warrior, a powerful leader of his tribe. He was often lauded for his self-control and ability to stand his ground even in times of seemingly imminent defeat. How was it then that a mere woman…a human woman could bring about such uncharacteristic thoughts? He didn’t care about fated mates. He was better than this.
He got to his feet, maintaining distance between them.
“You speak it well enough and you seem to understand me even better. So why won’t you do what I’ve asked?” she said.
“What do you want?” He folded his arms across his chest and he did not miss the way her eyes roved over his frame appreciatively. Her tongue caressed her lower lip and the action made him harden with explicit thoughts roaming through his head on the creative ways she could use that tongue on him.
“Take me home.”
“I cannot.”
The desire in her eyes faded away, replaced by annoyance. “Why not?”
“I do not know how you came here. I do not know how to return you to your planet.”
“Well I was…teleported here after I touched the watch.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, the watch!”
Aizak regarded her with confusion so she continued.
“I was gifted a watch, a device that tells time on Earth.” She launched to her feet and Aizak enjoyed the way her breasts jiggled in her strange-looking dress from the effort. Her green-gold eyes were alight with hope and Aizak waited, tensed, to see if he could fulfil her following requests. “Touching it brought me here. I lost it when that monster chased me. I’m sure if we find it I can use it to go back home.”
Aizak remained quiet as he masked his doubt with indifference. He didn’t want to crush the human’s hope with his logic that locating her lost possession in the thickly clustered Ekalon forests were nigh impossible. What he knew with certainty was that her best chance lay in waiting for the human man who visited on occasion. He was about to tell her so when she opened the main door to his dwelling and regarded him with expectation.
“Well? Hurry up and let’s go. If we start looking now I bet we can find the watch in no time.”
He shook his head as he approached her. When she gazed up at him, her features registered frustration. So he pointed at the once yellow-peach sky that had now darkened to deep purple.
“It is late and dark.”
“Don’t you have flashlights?” She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “What about torches?”
He raised his palm upward, creating a soft plume of light which illuminated them both.
She gawked at it. “Holy shit.” Then twin spots of pink coloured her cheeks when her gaze reconnected with his. The light in his palm was reflected in her eyes like moonshine on the lakes at night. “I mean…how are you doing that?”
Her awe pleased him. With a smile tugging at his lips, he closed his fingers as the light ebbed.
“Small pieces of my energy source. Yet it is not the dark that stands in my way, human, but the creatures that hide within. It is not safe, even for my kind.”
The worry o
n her face bothered Aizak and he had the insane urge to gather her in his arms and kiss it away.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
Again, he wanted to tell her she had no choice but to wait until another of her kind visited. However perceptiveness was an innate skill within Aizak which he had mastered over the years. This human woman was not the kind to wait idly by while someone else solved her problems. She needed to take action regardless of its futility or she would suffer from fears of uselessness. If searching for her possession within the vast, wild forests was what she wanted to do, by the gods he would assist her.
“In daylight we will search for your…watch,” he said quietly, and her relief was evident in the way her shoulders sagged as though a heavy weight were lifted from them. “For now, we eat and then we rest.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Marissa
Inside Aizak’s home was not what Marissa had imagined an alien’s house to be. Granted, she’d never really thought on that subject. Most of her studies had focused on the way humans of different races and cultures lived. Nevertheless, instead of the futuristic themes that were often showcased in the movies and TV shows, the interior was a lot more like a dragon’s cave only a lot more cozier.
The inner walls consisted of a ridged, taupe-coloured stony material that was rough and dark in some spots and smooth and lighter in others. Though the roofing looked high from the outside, it was at a moderate height within, arched and jagged. The main area consisted of one large circular room, but three arched entryways were cut into the walls, leading into additional rooms. There were cupboards cluttered with paraphernalia, a kitchen area, and she was pretty sure that weird-looking twisty thing against the wall was some kind of furniture.
In the centre sat a massive table made of the same stone as the walls, a circular bench affixed to it, and a map engraved in the middle of the table’s surface. As Marissa ate the food Aizak’s servants had offered her, she turned her attention away from the vicious weapons and disturbing skull trophies dotted on the walls to study the map instead. But her curiosity would forever be her downfall.
