Stolen By An Alien Page 12

  She didn’t choose me.

  I treasured her. She was mine. But… was I hers?

  It wouldn’t be natural for her to claim a Rakhii in this way. I should be content that she nearly did it at all.

  But I can’t stop myself.

  I have to know.

  “Do you have other males?”

  She turned to stone right in my arms.

  “Do I have other… males? As in more than one? No.”

  Her tone indicated that she thought I'd lost my sense.

  Or my intellegence.

  I felt my jaw clench. “Do you have a male?”

  Unthinkable, that she would only have one. Angie, who put all Gryfala to shame with her beauty and bravery?

  She stared at me. And there was this voice, this little, tiny voice, shouting at me – but I couldn’t make out the words, too focused on my jealousy. I felt the emotion rumble in my throat as I demanded, “Angie, answer me.”

  Slowly, so slowly that a sense of alarm immediately skittered up my spine - her arms crossed one over the other, defiant. Furious. “I don’t know. He’s being kind of an ideee-Ott right now!”

  I blinked down at her, tension still thrumming through me. She huffed and shot me a disgusted look. “You are my male,” she made an alarming gesture, raising the index and extra finger next to it – of both hands – and flashed them at me, crooked knuckles and fingertips flying up and down. Twice.

  “Arokh – you. Mine. Only. You idee-Ott!”

  My relief was so great, I trumpeted.

  “What the fuhhhck?” she exclaimed, looking at me in alarm. “Are we being attacked?”

  I went on the alert, carefully assessing - but the room was secure. We were alone. “No. We are as safe as possible.”

  “Okaaaay then. Stop with the scary noise! It creeps me the fuhck out.” She looked skyward when she said this, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. To herself it seemed, she said, “The shit I’ve had to deal with…”

  “Creeps?”

  “Where I’m from, that’s a noise a very scary creature makes.”

  Cocking my head, I try to puzzle her out. “I am a very scary creature.”

  She halted. Then she smiled. “That’s true. You are a badasss.”

  Certain that I liked that tone of admiration when she said her strange word, I nodded, deciding if she believed it a fitting title; I was honored. “If my bugle startles you, I will endeavor not to call out during battle.”

  “Bugle?”

  “My trumpet-call.”

  “That’s… okay. So you do that when you are in battle, and when you are… happy?”

  I nod. “And singing.”

  “Singing? Like… you make music? With your… trumpeting?”

  I’d never had the urge to demonstrate this for a female before - yet my chest puffed up.

  I bugled.

  Her eyes flew open wide as she threw her hands over her tiny ears.

  I tried to be humble about my gifts, but my bugling was something I was intensely proud of. Loud, deep, and vibrating; it was beautiful. At home, I had to be careful when I practiced – I would have felt terrible if a female had wandered from her bonded - attracted by my call - and I would be forced to defend myself.

  I’d been fairly sure it was more powerful than average.

  But my Angie?

  She looked absolutely stunned.

  I am lacing up her dress when she turns her head to regard me. “Some things I believe I know, but since you brought it up, I want to make sure too… are you with someone back home?”

  My fingers stilled. “With someone?”

  “Do you have… a female?”

  I regarded her. Baffled. “Angie. No! I would never have left my female, had I been blessed with one before.”

  “Oh.”

  I grip her forearm. “I won’t leave you. Not willingly. Even if you never bite me.”

  She started to smile, but then she just looked perplexed as she tapped behind her ear. I wondered if the translator was not working properly and I sighed, then tried to shake off the agitation by standing. Then I tried pacing.

  It helped that she was nearly cloaked in my scent. It soothed the part of me that was ruled entirely by instinct.

  But only slightly.

  Because my instincts told me that she wasn’t safe, that this was a terrible place to start a litter, and on top of that, the rational half recognized that my scent was getting even darker and muskier.

  Of course this increase in potency would serve as an even severer warning.

  Few would risk an attempt to take her from me now.

  But that didn’t mean that the implications weren’t trying to gnaw me alive. I sighed heavily as I brought her towards me one last time for the contact I already desperately needed. Wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug, I rested my chin atop her head.

  And her touch, her soft, sweet-smelling hair, my smell all over her, the feel of her against me; I couldn’t muster regret. It was done.

  As we passed other males, I felt my spines leaking, the threat visible and ready.

  She is mine. And for now, mine alone.

  For now. For now. For now.

  The notion rings in my head, making me feel crazed. I want to order her to keep me as her only male. I clamp my jaws together so the words don’t leave my mouth.

  But it is hard.

  Feeling incredibly proprietorial over her, I hold her hand tightly and whenever we stop to barter for a match, I clasp our joined hands right over my hearts.

  It comforts the worst of the cravings to cow an entire area of males. Every cautious, frightened, horrified look is welcome.

  But this does not go unnoticed by potential sponsors. Though none dare to comment on it either. We are on a backwater, primitive, nearly lawless planet. Nothing would truly raise brows here. Not on these men anyway.

  It’s the ones that look less frightened, and more avaricious - as they steal glances at Angie - that keep me on edge.

  We need to reach homeland.

  We need a way to get out of this place.

  So I am feeling desperation when Jalteer angles his head to a stone corridor that sits unnoticed in the shadows. “You have an interested sponsor that wishes to speak to you privately.”

  About rutting time we caught a break. I stand, and Angie takes my hand without a moment’s hesitation, then watches me expectantly. “This is good news?” she says.

  “Let us hope.” I led her through the crowd, weaving through tables. When we reached the corridor I was hit with an overpowering cologne. The scales along the bridge of my nose wrinkled, making Angie gape. But then she covered her own nose with a hand. “Phew, somebody tried to drown himself without water.”

  “It doesn’t matter as long as he has money. Here,” I instruct, pausing to place her hands on my belt. “Hold close.” It was wholly unnecessary since she had been doing just that for days, but I liked the excuse to touch her and I would take every chance I got.

  “You think I’d go down this creepy tunnel otherwise? No way, big guy.”

  I smiled grimly. “Smart instincts, my female.” I shook my head. “But we don’t have much choice.” I hated clandestine deals in settings like this, but this wasn’t the first time I’d set a match in a strange place. This was probably a tunnel for catacombs, and I especially disliked those. We burned our dead or buried them. We didn’t waste time and materials on creating strange and dark mazes with odd designs that either protected the dead’s goods or – supposedly - comforted the dead’s visitors and every time I had to venture down into one it made little sense to me. As with so many customs; it wasn’t for me to understand. I simply had to respect that it worked for others… I just preferred to respect them from far, far away. The only good thing was the fact that the musty smell of stone was barely detectable under the fancy stench of our –hopefully- future sponsor.

  The corridor ended with a great metal door, cracked open just for us. We stepped i
nside cautiously. My eyes instantly went to the male waiting for us.

  “Greetings.” He said mildly. Yet his eyes darted.

  Untrustworthy behavior. I didn’t like it. But considering where we were, what planet we were on, really, his manner shouldn’t have stood out at all. Beggers can’t afford to be selective. His suit looked rich enough for me to have hope. Yet I felt every one of my quills raise and stand on end.

  His eyes raked over me. “You look like a fighter.”

  I struggled to relax myself. “I am.” My voice echoed a little off the walls.

  “Excellent. I understand you are looking to pit against any comers? Until pinned, or until death?”

  As we nailed down details, I felt Angie relax at my back. Then her hands dropped from my waist. I felt instantly disconcerted at the loss of connection. The male’s terms started coming faster, and his voice became terser as I tried not to be distracted by my Angie’s absence.

  And failed.

  Yet instead of looking annoyed at my distraction, he seemed… agitated. Eyes narrowing, I began to step to the side – my instincts told me the sponsor was not someone to which I should turn my back – and I started to call out to Angie. Instinct would naturally make me crazed to have her close. Closer than close. Maybe I was simply reacting because of that. All I knew in that moment was that I really wanted to have her back in my arms. I needed her touch, needed to know she was safe. That’s when I saw what had snagged her attention.

  A massive pile of sparkling gems sat just behind another wrought iron door on the other side of the cavern. That side of the catacomb was covered in a length of strong bars. The heavy door was open, inviting. Tantalizing.

  The shiny rocks and colorful gems winked even in this dark, damp place, completely incongruous to the surroundings.

  Completely planted.

  “Angie, NO!” I shouted and charged towards her.

  But I was a click too late. She whirled to me, but the door clanged shut between us. Behind me, I heard the gate lock and I knew without turning that our “sponsor” was gone. His job was done.

  Behind Angie, two tremendous shapes took form in the shadows.

  I let out a bone chilling growl. The vibration of it was so fierce my throat felt like it was peeling. I was caged.

  She was trapped.

  My nose burned when I scented her fear. Lunging at the bars, I roared with bloodlust.

  The attackers seemed baffled. One held out a hand. “Be not afraid female. You should know we mean you no harm.”

  I blew a stream of fire, but the flames stopped several feet short of either target.

  Angie backed towards me, her terror smell so strong it made my spines prickle and leak droplets of toxin. “Do not TOUCH her,” I bellowed.

  “Calm, princess.” One soothed, bending a little as he took another stride forward. This close, I could catch their scent and it locked my body into a momentary halt. Hobs? Why this covert setup? Why not simply approach us?

  They knew. Somehow, they knew. And they had come for her.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was a good thing.

  But my body rebelled. No one would take her from me. Mine.

  “I’m not your princess,” she sneered.

  The closest one dropped his hood for her inspection. Reached for her. “Of course you are. Come to me, please.”

  “No,” she whimpered. “Not again,” and she dug at her waist for the knife I had given her days ago.

  Shocked, both hobs froze. Then they shifted accusatory gazes to me before looking back to her. “You will never be hurt again. We will protect you.” One vowed, voice like hothbaark ice. The other muttered, “I am sick to think a Rakhii let a Gryfala come to harm...”

  The walls sounded as if they would shake loose from the force of my body hitting the barrier between me and my female.

  “He saved me,” she said. She was less afraid now, but I knew the threat had not lessened. They had every intention of claiming her for their own.

  Bash!

  “Many times, actually. I am really lucky he found me.”

  Bash!

  “Calm your …guard,” the taller one said in a tone that held exasperation.

  My female was careful in her response. “Sure seems he has reason to be angry. You have him in a fuhreeking cage.”

  My next lunge made the massive bars quake. And one of the flat bars at the front creaked. I concentrated on that spot, torqueing my neck to hit it with my horns. The screech of metal bending loose from the welding weave was horrific to my sensitive ears. I pinned them flat to my neck and kept ramming.

  Apparently, the sound was horrific to the hobs too. “Creator,” one ran a hand through his closely shorn mane. “Princess, I beg you - calm him before he escapes. We need to have words with you.”

  “Words, huh?” she asked. “Okay. If I agree to hear you out, will you let us go?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is this like an elven magic-speak thing? Like I have to be uber specific with my terms, leaving you no loophole to twist my words?”

  I didn’t hear what they said because my next bone jarring brash against the bars burst another reinforcement. This time the squeal of metal was satisfying.

  One of them dropped to a knee before her. “Hail female. We would like to gain your permission to join your hob ranks.”

  If sounds could kill, the one that left my throat then should have pulverized their innards.

  Another cage bar broke and bent outward, causing the males to talk faster.

  “Please female, we wish to be in your service.”

  SLAM!

  “You just want to join us? Really?”

  “We want to be your hobs,” the first one sounded relieved. And idiotically hopeful, I thought a little uncharitably. “It would be an honor.”

  “Was this,” she gestured to the cage I was working free of piece-by-piece, “Really necessary?”

  “Definitely.” The second one said, eyeing the five remaining pieces I needed to break in order to free myself.

  “I’ll just ask my… male, and see if he objects to help. One moment please.” I think I detected sarcasm. But I was too busy breaking down the barrier preventing me from my Gryfala to be very certain.

  Brows drawn, one asked, “You defer to him? Does he attempt to dominate his will over you?”

  “Umm,” her eyes flicked to me, and her lips quirked a little. I felt my hearts leap and incredibly, my anger rolled back for a brief moment. “I guess we discuss? He certainly knows more about this planet than I do so I’d say his opinion is pretty much the one that counts… what are you doing?”

  He was shrugging off his cloak.

  The bastard was going to display his wings for her. I’d never imagined what the Rakhii guards must feel when their Gryfala was being courted by yet another hob.

  Blinding, uncontrollable rage.

  He opened them, and even in the dim light, they shone and sparkled.

  “Holy-! Whoa! Um, what are you doing?” She backed another step.

  “I’m displaying for you.”

  “That’s – that’s okay, really. You can – you can put your poncho back on, there. Now.”

  Angie actually seemed alarmed, which should have soothed yet somehow did not comfort me at all.

  I roared with renewed determination. Three bars left.

  I heard the jangle of keys. “Here. Unlock the door, but make him vow first that he will not act out retribution for us speaking to you.”

  “Oookay.” Softly, she called my name. Lungs heaving like bellows, I met her at the door, gripping it hard enough for the metal to creak.

  She watched for a blink, then smiled up at me. “Hey there, big guy. They want your word that you won’t kick their asses for this.”

  I snarled. Shaken loose, dirt and small stones now trickled from the ceiling.

  She shot a glance over her shoulder, then eyed me. “Look, I don’t know what is going on here, but y
ou do. Can we trust these guys?”

  My chin jerked down but that was as charitable and honest as I could manage.

  “Kind of weird, right? What exactly is in it for them?” she whispered.

  You, I wanted to say.

  “But, I mean, if their motivations are good, would it be helpful to have two more big dudes to watch your back so you don’t have to do everything alone?”

  Violent fury had turned my vision nearly tanzanite. I wanted to be her lone caretaker. Me alone to see to all her needs. Share? I could not. It would break me. Mine. She was mine.

  “Convince him faster,” whispered a Hob.

  If I’d kept up at the break in the pen, I’d be out by now and they would both be dead. I tensed to move back and continue but Angie stalled me. “Hey. If you want help, say yes. If not, just say no. After those… after I was auctioned, the thought of strange guys near me is not appealing in the slightest, but, I know you worry about who will protect me at your gladiator game and you don’t have anyone at your back. Whatever you want to do, I trust you.”

  My poor female. She feared.

  And rightly so.

  My ribs strained as I sucked in lung fulls of air, trying to think. I could not protect her alone. I was not enough. This situation was stark proof that I had failed. With these words from her, my anger was extinguished. She had reminded me that her safety was paramount. My selfishness was nothing in the face of her being taken against her will again; if these had been more Krortuvian beasts rather than bachelor hobs, they could have done this very same trick and had her spread between them while I impotently sat caged. I shamed her by not protecting her properly. Shamed myself.

  “My word,” I panted. “Release me now.”

  She fumbled slightly with the lock, and when one of the hobs moved up behind her to help, I hit the cage, which shook the key out and sent it tumbling to her feet.

  She only gave me a look, but its impact on me was such that it caused me to duck my head. Then she threw a glare over her shoulder that had the hob retreating. My little Gryfala might be small, but she knew to be assertive even with hobs twice her size. Good for her.

  When the door swung open I clutched her to me in relief. Course vestiges from the unspent adrenaline rush racked my frame as I stood bowed over her. I snuffled her mane, her neck, her face. She stroked the bridge of my nose. When she innocently brushed the base of my horns, I stopped her hands. My control - it would not do to work me up in this state; my body was primed to possess her now that I had her safely in my arms. It was instinctual.