Alien Attraction

by Cara Bristol

  Everyone was looking at Enoki. Would he intervene or let Torg handle it? The tribal chief had no overt power over our clan, but his influence could result in the other tribes ostracizing us.

  Enoki remained silent for a long moment then exhaled. “Torg has been judicious in the past. I trust him to be fair.”

  “I don’t!” Romando snorted. “He’s the mate stealer’s brother!”

  Enoki held up his hand. “However, recompense alone will not suffice. Justice requires punishment.”

  “He’ll be punished. I give you my word as tribe leader,” Torg said.

  “Punished?” Sunny sprang out from behind me. “Hell no.” She glared at Enoki and Romando. “Darq didn’t steal me. I never would have chosen Romando.”

  “Darq should be banished,” Polonio said.

  “Yes!” Romando said.

  “That would befit the offense.” Enoki nodded.

  Banishment was reserved for the most serious crimes. When a person got expelled from his tribe, he couldn’t return. He would have to find another tribe to accept him.

  “You can’t do that—he’s your brother!” Starr cried.

  Torg’s stoicism masked his anguish at the dilemma. As clan chief, he had to do what was best for the tribe and enforce our customs and traditions. Had anyone else done what I had, he would have been banished. If Torg showed favoritism toward me, he would lose face and probably would be challenged to a muta. He could lose his position as leader.

  “If he’s banished, then I’m going with him!” Sunny hung onto my arm like she expected me to be ejected at any moment.

  She couldn’t go with me because it was too dangerous. Once word spread I’d stolen a chit, every tribe would reject me. No one would harbor a mate-stealer. I could survive on my own; I would find a cave and hunt kel. But Sunny? I couldn’t risk her life. She’d gotten lost in a snowstorm going from the lodge to the tavern.

  “I’ll make a decision and let you know,” Torg said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sunny

  Mr. Congeniality stormed off, and his tribe leader Polonio followed. Enoki conferred briefly with Torg, then departed, too. The tension was thicker than snow during a Dakonian blizzard.

  Torg ignored Darq, donned his kel, and kissed Starr. “I’ll be back. I must deliberate.” He left.

  Well, this was awkward.

  “He wouldn’t banish you, would he?” I glanced between Darq and Starr.

  “No, of course, not,” she said, but her forehead scrunched into a frown.

  “Maybe not,” he said.

  Their responses didn’t reassure me. I confronted the hovering cameras. “You did this for revenge!”

  “We did it for the show,” my producer said. “You had fallen into a boring routine, so we needed to stir things up a little.”

  Just because reality shows were unscripted didn’t mean producers didn’t influence “the story.” Predictability was the bane; shock and awe the goal. Apogee frequently introduced unexpected variables. When I got a handle on things, they changed the rules of the game—or the game itself. Except, I wasn’t on the show anymore—I’d quit. And I didn’t buy their explanation. Revenge had motivated them, pure and simple.

  “Liars!” I yelled. “If Darq gets cast into the wilderness, this will be your fault!”

  “Apogee didn’t steal the chit. Nor are we the ones deciding his fate,” my producer said.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “The studio has a lot invested in Sunny Weathers’ Excellent Adventures, and the show will continue for as long as we can continue to shoot.”

  I refused to give Apogee or their audience the satisfaction of watching me go apeshit. Later, I would figure out how best to eliminate the two remaining cambots. Ironically, if Torg did banish Darq, filming would arrive at a quicker end. To continue the show, the cameras would be forced into the wilderness with us where the cold would do them in.

  If there was one bright spot to exile, that was it.

  I pictured the cameras diving into a death spiral before crashing and burning on the frozen ground. I would warm my hands over the flames. Of course, the cameras wouldn’t actually burn, but I could pretend.

  But, basically, banishment should be avoided. It sounded cold.

  Let Apogee shoot what they would shoot. I would ignore them. Darq needed my help getting through this. Reaction had set in, and he looked a little shell-shocked. I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Loosely, he embraced me back.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “I don’t think Torg will banish us”—I peeked at Starr who gave me a more confident nod of assurance—“but if that happens, we’ll still be together.”

  He started to speak, but then sighed and rested his cheek on my head. “He won’t have a choice,” he said, after a long silence.

  “These Dakonians and their silly lottery.” Starr shook her head. “I’ll talk to Torg.”

  “Thanks,” I mouthed while tugging on Darq’s hand. “Let’s go back to our chamber.”

  We got back to our private space, and I checked for cameras. Gone. They knew better than to follow me. I was plenty pissed and would love to vent my ire with a round of batting practice. So, he had claimed a chit that didn’t belong to him—it was a piece of wood, for crying out loud! Anybody could go into the forest and pick one up. If a mate had been important to Romando, he should have taken better care of the chit. Sure, he would have gotten a woman, but he wouldn’t have gotten me.

  The man turned me off, and not just because he threatened our security. I’d taken an instant dislike to his square face, his ugly short horns, his disapproving eyes. He reminded me of men from Earth—he thought too much of himself and assumed any woman should fall at his feet. He wore his hair longer than most—nearly to his waist. His kel leggings and tunic had appeared tailored, and antler beads adorned the hems. Who was he trying to impress? Me? Not going to work, buddy.

  The notion he could walk in and claim me was ludicrous.

  Darq sank onto our bed and looked up at me. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this.”

  I sat next to him. “If you hadn’t found and kept the chit, we wouldn’t be together. I can’t imagine being with anybody but you. We were meant to be together. You can’t force love or attraction. We have it, and that’s pretty special.”

  Within a short period of time, Darq had flipped my world upside down—in a positive way. He’d changed my priorities—he’d become the priority.

  “I hurt Torg’s feelings. I lied to his face. He’s very disappointed in me,” he said.

  “Well, yeah. You did do that. But you’re family. Your feelings for one another will prevail.” I pulled off my boots then stood up, unfastened my tunic, and pulled it over my head. I knew how to cheer him up and take his mind off our troubles. And distract me from mine. I wasn’t as confident as I tried to appear. What if Torg did banish Darq?

  “What are you doing?” He stared.

  Topless, I shimmied out of my leggings.

  “Sunny…” He raked a hand through his hair, but he fixed his gaze on my body, and his horns gave a little throb.

  “We can hold each other, can’t we?” I knelt and unfastened his tunic. I pulled it off and tossed it atop mine then pushed him back on the bed and worked on his leggings. Removal was impeded by his growing erection, but I got his pants off and flung them aside.

  He pulled me into his arms then, and we hugged. His big, solid, muscled body exuded heat and security. I drew comfort from our skin-to-skin contact; whatever happened, we could overcome it together. We were a pair, a team, mates.

  I stroked his back from shoulder to ass, enjoying the smoothness of his skin, the warmth. This man produced heat like a furnace. If we were cast into the cold, his body heat could warm us both and a small cave.

  Darq kissed me, his lips soft and gentle, his tongue exploring, his bristly chin rasping mine. We broke off
, only to kiss again, parted, kissed again. Warm breath caressed my face as he leaned his forehead against mine. “If the worst happens, you’ll still be safe.”

  “Because I’ll be with you.”

  “Because you’ll be here in camp.”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  “Without a tribe’s support and resources, survival is hard, even for a Dakonian. For you?” He shook his head. “No tribe will accept me.”

  “That’s another reason why you need me. If you have your own woman, they won’t worry so much about you taking theirs.”

  He wasn’t swayed by my sound argument. “There will still be much animosity toward me—”

  I pressed my finger to his lips. “Let’s not talk about this.” Torg hadn’t decided yet, and a part of me refused to believe he could exile his own brother. No sense worrying until we had to.

  “What should we talk about?”

  “This.” I planted my hands on both sides of his head and kissed him with serious intent.

  Drawing me closer, harder against him, he grabbed my bottom and squeezed. My alien mate was an ass man; I’d often caught him staring at my butt. He flung a heavy thigh over my hips. His erection dug into my stomach.

  Slipping a hand between our bodies, I seized his hard-on and stroked him from base to tip. He was warm and smooth in my hand. Solid as a rock.

  He cupped and squeezed my breasts before slipping his hand between my thighs. His fingers found my sweet spot, and I moved against them, encouraging, seeking his caresses. Heat and tension coiled within me.

  Our eyes met. His dark eyes heated. His horns had swelled, and I reached up to fondle one. He growled, and then planted a hard, searing, forceful kiss against my mouth.

  Our kisses grew intense, deeper, and our caresses more frantic. Despite my desire, banishment lingered in my mind, and I was sure it was the same with him. Uncertainty infused our lovemaking with urgency.

  He prodded my thighs apart and slid between my legs. He nudged my entrance, and with a firm thrust, surged inside, satisfying my need to be filled. Our bodies and minds joined, two individuals in communion, seeking one another, needing one another, completing one another. There could be no one but Darq for me.

  He drove forward; I thrust back. He gripped my ass in his large hands. I hugged him, buried my face against his sweaty throat, and kissed his neck. I dragged my fingers through his hair, palming his horns. His involuntary growls sent shivers of ecstasy through my body.

  As one, we ascended the peak where physical sensation united with the sublime in an explosive climax. We tumbled, gasping, clinging to one another.

  We lay, bodies joined, arms and legs tangled, as inseparable as two people could get.

  Together we would remain. I wouldn’t allow anything else.

  Chapter Twenty

  Darq

  Torg returned a couple of hours later, appearing no less grim than when he’d departed, his gaze cold and hard. “Sit down,” he ordered.

  I took a seat, and Sunny scooted into a chair next to me. She placed her hand on my thigh.

  Torg assumed his position at the head of the table, and Starr joined him. My brother glanced at our two females. I could tell he would have preferred they not be here, but over them he had no control. It was my fate he held in his hands.

  “Do you have any idea the position you put me in? You lied to my face. You altered records. You usurped a man’s right to a mate. You shamed our family and our tribe and jeopardized my leadership.”

  “I offer no excuses, only an apology. What I did was wrong.” I regretted the trouble I had caused Torg, and his disappointment in me cut deep. I desired my older brother’s respect, but not more than I wanted Sunny. Having met and known her, I couldn’t say if I had it to do over again, I would make a different choice.

  Torg exhaled. “Banishment is the only acceptable recourse.”

  “No!” Sunny and Starr cried together.

  I remained stoic, but my heart dropped to my stomach. My worst fear had come to pass. I would lose Sunny. I could not subject her to the terrible harshness of our climate. I would never see my brother again, or my clan. If our paths happened to cross in the wilderness, my former tribe would not acknowledge me. I would become a pariah, a man without a tribe.

  “Torg, no, you can’t,” Starr said.

  “Can’t you give him another chance?” Sunny begged. “He’s a good person!”

  Torg slashed the air with his hand. “Let me finish. Any punishment less than banishment will not satisfy Romando or Polonio—or Enoki, who would be forced to bring pressure on me. Our own tribe will not overlook the dishonor you’ve brought on us. Sparing you would call into question every single decision I’ve made. I would be accused of favoritism and could be challenged to a muta.”

  “What’s a muta?” Sunny asked.

  “A duel, a hand-to-hand fight, to determine who leads the tribe,” Starr whispered.

  “They would be right to do so,” Torg continued. “I’ve considered every possible alternative, and reviewed past decisions, mine and those of other tribal leaders.” He shook his head. “By our customs and precedents, banishment is justice.”

  Sunny squeezed my thigh so hard, it would leave bruises.

  I dropped my head and swallowed. “I understand.”

  “But I won’t banish you.”

  My head shot up.

  “Because one factor supersedes all else.”

  Sunny sucked in her breath. My heart drummed in my ears. I wasn’t going to be banished! Relief shuddered through me, but I knew Torg wasn’t finished. There would be severe consequences—not as harsh as banishment, but I would pay for what I had done.

  “Sunny is innocent of all wrongdoing and must not suffer as a result of your actions. She left her home and kin to come to a desolate, cold planet. Though our tribe can provide shelter, she needs a mate for protection, and she has bonded with you. Having known Starr and learned of Terran ways, I am certain Sunny would never accept Romando.”

  “I never would!” She shook her head.

  “If she is like Starr, she would attempt to follow you into the wilderness.”

  “I would. Where he goes, I go,” she said.

  My biggest fear—she’d try to come with me. “Thank you, for taking care of my mate.” To banish his own kin would pain Torg, but if not for Sunny, he would have done it. He was an honorable man, and he took his leadership seriously.

  “You must pay for your actions, and there must be considerable recompense to Romando. Effective immediately, you will be warded for sixty days.”

  “Warded? What’s that?” Sunny asked.

  “It’s like jail,” Starr whispered.

  “He’s going to prison?” Sunny gasped.

  “It’s okay.” I clasped her hand.

  “For two months?” She glanced between me and Torg.

  Anything less than banishment would be easy, but I didn’t want to say so in front of Torg. He’d said warding would occur immediately; I hoped I would get a few minutes alone with her before I left.

  “After the warding, you will make reparation to Romando. You’ll deliver five new kel to be prepared in the manner of his choosing.”

  We used kel for everything. We cured the meat for food. We fashioned bone and antlers into knife handles, bows, and other tools. We sewed the skins into coats and other garments, bedding, and tarps. And first, I would need to hunt and kill the kel. Romando would exact his revenge by demanding the most complex, time-consuming articles. However, it wasn’t banishment. “That’s fair,” I said.

  My mate’s eyes flashed with outrage. “So what you’re saying is I’m only worth five kel?”

  I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t press for more. She didn’t understand what was involved in hunting and preparing kel. I’d be working for Romando for at least a year. Maybe more.

  Torg’s mouth twitched with the first humor I’d seen. “I co
uld make it a hundred, but I doubt Darq could handle so many.”

  Even Starr giggled. “He could throw in a couple of goats—if they had any.”

  “I’ll give you a few moments to say your goodbyes, and then you’ll need to go,” Torg said.

  I nodded. Not only had he been lenient, he’d put himself at risk for me after I’d lied. I vowed I’d make it up to him.

  “Be back here in ten minutes,” he said.

  “Ten minutes,” I agreed, and then led Sunny to our chamber.

  “There’s really a prison?” She bit her lower lip.

  “Another cave. No big deal.” I omitted mention of the austerity. Unlike our caves, the warding ones were damp. Prisoners were allowed to build a small fire, but the cold seeped in anyway. I’d be permitted a single kel fur for bedding and a bucket for waste, but those were the extent of the amenities. Water and meals—the camp’s leftovers—were delivered twice a day. Warding wasn’t supposed to be pleasant.

  I pulled her into a tight embrace. The two months would drag by, and I’d miss her terribly, every day. “It will go fast,” I fibbed. “Torg will take care of you, and Starr will help. If you need assistance, just ask them.”

  “Torg is the one who’s sending you away!”

  The punishment could have been much, much worse. “Don’t hold this against him. He did me a big favor and risked his leadership to do it. I did a bad thing by cheating Romando. I won’t be far—just across the compound.”

  Her expression brightened. “Then I can visit you?”

  I shook my head. “Prisoners aren’t allowed visitors, other than the men who will deliver my meals.”

  “It sounds like solitary confinement,” she said.

  “It is solitary, and I will be confined,” I agreed.

  “Are there any other prisoners there?”

  “Not at the moment. No one has been warded for months.”

  “What do the guards do to keep busy if there aren’t any prisoners?”

  “One isn’t posted unless a prisoner leaves before his time is up.”