The log creaked ominously above her, cracking with the weight of whatever was settled upon it. A new fear sprung in her chest as she imagined the hole capsizing and crushing her within her convenient grave. Arie was not ready to die yet. She dug her fingers into the earth and pulled herself forward, scrambling out of the hole. She closed her eyes tightly and pressed her belly close to the ground with an idea that just maybe whatever was eating noisily mere feet away would not notice her.
It was childish to hope that closing her eyes would keep her invisible, but Arie didn’t have anything to lose.
Hope stirred in her chest as she wiggled through the grass, but then hope died as a heavy weight fell over her, pressing her into the ground. Arie’s lungs burned as she gasped for air. Her eyes flicked open in panic just in time to see a silver muzzle coated with blood descend near her cheek. Lips pulled back from deadly fangs no shorter than her longest finger.
Ragoru!
“Orul er agar?” a voice growled as another body shifted nearer at her other side. The pair that were hunched over the pig made their way toward her, brush snapping under their tread.
The Ragoru holding her down inhaled, his muzzle so close she could see his nostrils expand.
“Human,” it growled in rough, accented English. It was so deep and gravelly that Arie had to listen closely to make out the word. Since when did the Ragoru speak English? She didn’t remember hearing of anything like that.
The pressure on her back eased and Arie took a deep breath, greedily filling her lungs with air. Instinct kicked in, and her arms heaved her body forward. Within seconds, she was crushed into the leaves once more. Laughter sounded around her, which she tried to ignore as she sputtered out a mouth full of dirt.
A pair of massive black clawed paws came into immediate view. It was shaped nothing like a human foot. Rather, it was like that of the lupine predators the species resembled: four toes with a leg formed like the hind leg of a wolf. Arie’s gaze lifted to take in more humanoid thighs thick with muscle, a furred bulge was set just above a large rounded sack holding the male’s firm testicles. She sucked in a startled breath. The Ragoru before her was definitely male.
She noticed his defined abs, not hidden in any way by the fur dusting over them. The fur over the pecs seemed only slightly thicker until it reached his collar, where it protruded in a noticeable scruff. A trail of longer fur flowed down from there to make a crest bisecting his pecs and abs until it joined the fur around his sex. His arms, all fur of them, were just as muscular as his legs, and heavy with fur that tapered at the wrist, where it lightened once more to a soft suede that only the wealthiest women could afford to purchase from merchants.
The only thing that ruined the image was the crimson blood matting his fur and dripping over his hands and claws. In one hand there appeared to be a half-eaten heart. Her eyes were trained on the organ as it slowly lifted to a short, bloody muzzle.
The overall shape of his head was more humanoid than lupine, with a long mass of coarse hair falling down the back of his neck and shoulders. Several small braids were wound into it. That decorative addition was perhaps the most humanoid feature it possessed. It certainly wasn’t the face that terminated in a muzzle with flexible lips for speech. Nor was it the two sets of ice-blue eyes—the second set just above and behind the primary set at his temples—that watched her balefully as he opened his maw, revealing his lethal fangs before bolting down the other half of the heart.
Her own organ in her chest beat as her fear hiked. Her eyes shifted when she caught a flash of movement just behind the black male. The other male was smaller and possessed reddish-brown fur, reddened further from the carnage. He held a bloody mass in one hand that she imagined was another internal organ from their prey. She watched as he lifted a leg in another hand, one that he’d apparently just pulled off the animal, and bit off a large mouthful of meat right in front of her.
A cold sweat broke over her. All four of his amber eyes widened as he returned her scrutiny before he flattened his ears and his lips pulled back from his teeth in an obvious show of dominance so unlike the casual authority that the first male had projected.
The weight behind her shifted and Arie found herself no longer pinned. Her eyes flew to the side as the third male joined the other two. With his furred back momentarily turned toward her, Arie noticed a tail drop from just above the curve of his ass, and a row of bony protrusions running protectively down his spine. It was only a brief glimpse.
Upon arriving at the side of his companions, he turned to face her. His yellow eyes peered at her with a mixture of amusement and suspicion, his upper silver-furred arms crossing over his chest while the other set hung with an air of relaxed attention. Arie trembled. The message he conveyed was clear: he would attack her without compunction if he felt it necessary, and it would be swift and brutal. His lips curled with a wicked smile, baring his sharp teeth and long canines, no doubt aware of his effect on her.
The darker male pushed to the fore with a low growl, and the silver one yielded with barely a flick of one of his long, pointed ears, never once taking his eyes off her. Arie’s eyes darted up to the imposing darker Ragoru as he lowered his head and sniffed at her. His hot breath blew on her, and she felt her stomach tighten with fear. She screwed her eyes shut tight. She didn’t want to see what was coming. Arie knew it was only a matter of minutes before those terrible teeth would rip into her throat. She felt his muzzle drift down from her face and the hot brush of his nose against her neck, trailing down to the juncture of where it met her shoulder. Arie tried to prepare herself for the vicious touch of his teeth.
It never came. A wet tongue swept out and brushed her skin for a moment before the male snorted and pulled back.
She cracked open an eye and watched as the male curled his lip and stepped back, his tail flagging behind him stiffly. All four of his blue eyes were narrowed on her, tension radiating from him.
“Human,” he agreed with a dark, deep rasp.
He whipped his head around, scenting the air as his fur bristled. An eerie howl raised in the distance, making the fine hairs on Arie’s arms stand on end. Did Ragoru run in large packs like wolves? She couldn’t recall any information about the social habits of the aliens, or if anyone had ever possessed such knowledge. Perhaps they were waiting for the rest of their pack to join them before they killed her. If they were anything like wolves, the alphas would eat first before the rest of the pack stripped her remains.
Rager growled as he scented another triad moving in. He normally didn’t venture out of his territory into the mutual zone. He didn’t know what had possessed him. All human trade routes were prohibited, and for good reason. Not only did huntsmen frequent them, but keeping distance from human settlements and routes had been part of the original agreements negotiated between their species when they came to settle on Earth. Keeping to the accords was something that all Ragoru agreed upon. Although the trade route regions weren’t strictly off-limits and were open for triads to travel through, lingering too close to areas where humans may pass invited trouble.
Yet they had no choice. Female Ragoru were fewer in number and roamed over wide territories that often intersected those of many males. To make matters more complicated, female territories were always subject to shift and change. For a mature triad to find a mate often meant having to leave their own territory to search out a female. All of them were becoming discouraged after many moon cycles of not coming across an unmated female. Sometimes, Rager had thought he’d come across the scent of one only to be too late to win a female for their family. They were all frustrated with their lack of success.
Following such miserable fortune, coming across a broad-snouted rutter had seemed like an exceptional find, possibly an omen of positive change. All three of them had been excited to find the beast pawing at the ground. What they had not expected was that the object of its interest had been a small human. They’d been shocked when the small figure darted out from its hiding
spot.
Warol’s attack had initially been more reflex than anything else, but when it had attempted to escape, he’d jumped again with a playful spark Rager had not witnessed in the male in many revolutions. Rager had dropped down from his perch to watch in amusement as the tiny being attempted to evade Warol’s pursuit. Even Kyx, the youngest and most even-tempered in their number, had seemed inclined to join the play until they heard the howls.
To his left, Warol dropped his amused leer and stiffened. Just behind him, Kyx shifted and flattened his ears. Rager observed the human crouched down on the ground. It was small and seemingly harmless. It certainly didn’t seem to possess anything that could threaten them. Rather, it smelled strangely enticing. He felt a flash of pity for it. It was tiny, and Rager doubted it was fully grown, as it seemed much smaller than the humans he’d seen from a distance. Was it a youngling separated from its dam?
While most Ragoru did not attack humans, there had been some talk among the more vocal triads who disliked yielding to humans, whom they viewed inferior beings. Rager didn’t like the idea of abandoning a lone youngling to what could be torture and slow death carried out by a deviant triad. Perhaps it would be more merciful to kill it here? Kyx seemed to interpret his speculative gaze on the huddled offspring and let out a long, low whine in objection.
“We are not going to kill it, are we?” Kyx protested in Ragii.
Warol frowned and Rager saw what he suspected to be a sympathetic look cross the male’s face, but then he shook his head with a snarl. “What would you have us do, Kyx? Escort it to the human settlement and be set upon for our trouble?”
Kyx scowled, inserting himself between the human and Warol. When the other male did not move to exert his dominance, his expression softened as he looked down at the huddled heap on the ground watching them from a wide-set pair of dark blue eyes. Like most humans, it was covered from head to toe in woven clothes styled in shades of browns and greens. Its hairless flesh seemed soft and particularly vulnerable. It was no wonder that Kyx felt protective toward it.
“It looks defenseless. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it with us for a time,” Kyx muttered, a hint of loneliness edging his tone. Rager could understand that. Although a triad was never really alone, they were all very different. A mate was supposed to unite them and bring them together as a closer unit, and provide them each with unique companionship. The younger male was desperate for company outside the other two parts of his triad.
Another howl rose, closer this time, and Rager made a snap decision. Reaching down, he plucked up the tiny being, drawing it close against his chest with all four arms, and took off running, his triad quick on his heels. Kyx had a strange bag clasped in his lower arms that could only have belonged to the female, and Warol broke his stride only long enough to scoop up the remains of their feast to carry with them.
They weren’t about to sacrifice any bit of their fortune to the rival triad.
4
The setting sun dyed the visible sky, glimpsed between breaks in the canopy, a vivid red. Warol shuddered with primal ecstasy as the burning hue brushed the sky as if bleeding its eternal life as it sank from the heavens.
Red.
His dam used to tell him that red was the color of life, sacred to all Ragoru. It was a sign of good omens, of plenty, as well as the beginnings and endings of life. Red things were coveted and desired to bring good fortune, and reddish-furred offspring were believed to be blessed by the gods.
Warol had spent his youth harvesting every red stone he found within the caverns of the earth, laying them out as gifts to the Mother Ewa and the dark fathers Efru, Zida, and Bayda. He filled their den with gleaming red shards when the coldest days of winter prompted them to light evening fires for extra warmth. He even felt it weighed in their favor that their third bore a reddish cast. Yet he was still waiting for the blessings to hit their triad.
Adjusting his grip on the meat, he narrowed his eyes at the small figure huddled in Rager’s embrace. He did not know what to think of it. It was amusing, to be sure, but he didn’t understand why any of them felt so motivated to carry it along with them. It was not food. It was liable to distract them from searching for their mate. It was an inconvenience… and yet it stirred something protective within him.
He’d been inclined to snap at their alpha when the male intruded upon his game. It was only just barely that he’d restrained himself. Even Warol couldn’t pinpoint what had come over him, and he had been relieved that their lead had either not noticed it or had decided to ignore it.
Once Rager was comfortable that they’d put enough distance between themselves and the rival triad, he changed his trajectory, skimming along the edge of a cliff overlooking a wooded valley until they found themselves at the opening of one of the cave systems familiar to their triad.
Each triad stuck to their own routes and didn’t infringe on others as a matter of courtesy. The cave still contained lingering scents from their previous visit with no other trace odors from rivals. Warol tossed the rutter onto the floor near a fire pit they lit on colder nights and snorted at Kyx. The male had set the human’s bag down with such obvious care that Warol could not help scoffing at the folly of it.
“You are setting the bag down gently as if it were your rog,” he said with a sneer.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyx huffed. “Just because it has no value to us does not mean it holds no value for the human.”
Warol grinned, his left foot pushing the bag. “And that is important to you—to keep the little human and all of its belongings safe from harm? We should have left it where we found it. Humans are not friends to the Ragoru.”
“There is always the potential,” Kyx objected. “Our ancestors tried, and would have succeeded in making peace with their species if it weren’t for foul-tempered brutes like you. Ragoru like you, and that other triad we crossed paths with, make the humans fear us.”
Warol challenged the smaller male with a derisive snort. “Humans breed huntsmen among their own to kill us, or have you forgotten that? I suppose it is easy when they didn’t carve your mother’s belly, killing both her and the young in her womb? Or, perhaps they didn’t skin your father and stretch his pelt before their village? I will never trust a human, not even a tiny soft one.”
Offering him nothing more than a mutinous glance, Kyx turned his back on him and settled to make a fire. Warol snorted again. They were brothers by their triad bond, but they clearly didn’t have the same experiences. Still, it didn’t take too much insight to know what Kyx was doing. He knew why his brother was busying himself with it when the temperatures were mild this evening—he didn’t want the little human to catch a chill. It sat shrinking back from their older brother, who all but ignored it as he pulled off a chunk of meat.
Sighing, Warol pushed himself up and moved to the carcass. Since they took in the creature, the least they could do was feed it. He pulled off a tender chunk from the hindquarter and thrust it at the human. He watched with some amusement as it’s face went pale and then tinged with a sickly green hue. Why wasn’t it eating? He leaned forward to prod it but Kyx stormed up and pushed his arm away.
Warol bristled. “Are you looking to challenge me?” he growled.
Kyx flattened his ears submissively but didn’t back down. “Don’t you know anything? Humans can’t eat meat like that. It will get sick. Meat needs be to put over fire for it to eat.”
With a disgusted growl, Warol shoved the meat at him and stomped over to the other side of the rutter, pulling a thick slab off its belly and bolting it down. Rager tossed him the sweet-tasting liver and Warol nodded his thanks. Their triad’s alpha always kept faultless track of whose turn it was to enjoy the sweetmeats of their kill. He licked his muzzle thoughtfully as he watched the human push its way further back from their feast as if there was something wrong with it. His ears flattened back against his skull.
A foul odor of burning meat filled the cave, and eventually Kyx brought the human
its share of the feast. The human attempted to retreat and turned its face away from the male, but Rager wasn’t having any of that. He reached behind him and shoved it back on its rear.
“Do not refuse sustenance, human. It is rude,” he barked.
“How is it you speak English?” she asked, her eyes widening, from what he could tell.
Rager snorted disdainfully. “Humans, you believe we are unthinking monsters. We know this, but our ancestors were taught your languages by those who lived nearby and passed down that knowledge through their families, down to us, so that we are never at the disadvantage of not being able to understand you.”
“But when you speak your language, I don’t understand you. Do you consider that fair?” she asked hesitantly, almost cowering when he turned to look at her. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl.
“It hardly is of any concern of mine what you consider fair. Humans never bothered to learn. That was your error, not ours. Now eat.”
The human was smart enough to recognize the authority of his tone and accepted the meat from Kyx. It sniffed it warily, and then a rumbling sound came from its belly, protesting its hunger. Warol watched as it tore into the meat with its dull, useless teeth. He shook his head. It was hard to believe he was looking at any kind of great predator. It had no fangs or claws, no thick fur or spinal plating to protect it. It was also significantly impaired by having only one set of hands and eyes.
Biting off a sound of disgust, he plucked up a fatty glob of meat that had fallen to the ground and flung it out the entrance of the cave. The human skittered back as if he’d been aiming for it. All four of his eyes focused on it disdainfully. Stranger still was that the human was gripping its hood and pulling it down with its pale, bald hand. Warol huffed with impatience. The night was comfortably warm. With a fire so near, surely it had to be uncomfortable with all that covering.
Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance Page 3
