by Zara Starr
Alien Barbarians’ Mate
Zara Starr
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Also by Zara Starr
Copyright © 2019 by Zara Starr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations in book reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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One
Mikaela
You know the type of rainy day that seems to be a dreary overlay that you could almost use as a filter for those photo apps on social media? That was exactly the kind of gray day my Monday had been.
Work, of course, had been slow and I knew that my boss was annoyed with my lack of enthusiasm. But I was feeling tired lately—in a way that I knew sleep wasn’t going to help with. I just wanted to sleep—or maybe curl up in front of a TV and watch some stupid reality shows just because.
I sighed in annoyance as my dog, Tremor, began barking at me.
“What is it, Trem?” I asked, watching as my papillon began to visibly shake as he wagged his practically nonexistent tail.
I already knew what his issue was. I’d been waiting for the rain to relent for the past half an hour, but it didn’t seem to be letting up and I was positive that getting a little rain-soaked wouldn’t be as bad as scrubbing out a pee-pee spot—because that’s where Tremor was headed.
I had to take him for a walk or else I’d be paying for it. I stood up and walked over to my closet—extracting my raincoat.
“Alright, I know. It’s potty time,” I muttered as I pulled his leash from the hook on the wall.
He barked twice and immediately began wagging his tail. I smiled, feeling his happiness despite the dreary weather. My dog was really my only friend in life. Other than with him, I basically spent all of my time pouring over my workload.
Of course, I had dated before. For a long time, I was even engaged to a banker. But that did not work out.
After being cheated on because of my size, I no longer wanted to date any men. They were all fickle jerks who eventually became resentful. Especially, if you were a woman with dreams, goals and a career to consider.
Honestly, there had been a time when I wanted to get married and have a family of my own, but that now seemed almost impossible. Besides, I didn’t fit the usual cute, thin and attractive requirement most men had for a wife.
So, I opted for a dog—someone who would love me regardless of what the weather outside looked like. Whether or not I had showered that day or eaten an entire tub of ice cream all by myself.
With this in mind, I had decided the best option for me was to go to the local humane society and find a dog with special needs. A canine that, like me, had basically been abandoned by the world.
Finding Trem had been the answer. When I had walked into Gracious Hill Humane Society, I had immediately noticed the papillon with a strangely bent tail and wide, happy eyes. I knew then that I had found what I was looking for.
I could easily recall the day we met as if it was yesterday.
“Good morning. Thank you for coming to Gracious Hill’s monthly adoption event! We are so excited to see all of you here and are certain you’re all excited to meet the many pups and kittens we have available for adoption today!”
I shifted in my seat as the humane society lady announced the start of the event.
“So, for those of you who are here looking for a dog—would you please stand up?” she asked.
I glanced around the room and slowly arose. The woman nodded as she continued, “Fantastic. Okay, so all of you here for a canine please come with me. For those of you here for the cattery—Nancy will be helping you out today.”
She waved toward an elderly brunette who smiled widely. I perked a brow. It seemed odd that they were separating people but it occurred to me that I had never been to an actual adoption event. Maybe they did things a little differently?
The first woman walked toward a door and waved at me and the group—at least ten others, who were all there to pick up a dog.
She pushed the door open and we all quickly moved inside.
“Alright, so if you are looking for puppies they’re going to be right down this hallway and if you want an older dog you’re welcome to check any of these kennels. We have several older dogs that need to be adopted.”
I smiled and nodded—sauntering down the aisle of the older dogs.
“Woof!”
I turned my head and glanced down to see a small papillon with an odd bump in the middle of his tail.
“Excuse me?” I called out, turning toward the woman who had led us into the canine ward.
“Yes? Oh, this one—he sure is sweet but he has a terrible nerve problem,” she announced. “We haven’t named him but we’ve got reasons to believe he was used in a breeding facility and very poorly treated. He honestly would be best for a single person household.”
“That’s fine, I’m not married and I’ve been looking to adopt a dog that needed help. This one looks perfect.”
“Do you know much about their breed?” the woman asked me.
I shrugged.
“No, but I have seen a few papis in my time. They remind me of a chihuahua or Pomeranian,” I said.
“They are a bit calmer than your average chihuahua or Pom, but yes—they fall somewhere in the middle of the two breeds. Do you see his tufts? Those are tell-tale signs of his breed.”
“Oh, really? Why is that?” I asked.
“Well, ‘papillon’ is French for butterfly—those tufts and their unique shape has the appearance of an outspread butterfly, hence the name. They’re a fantastic breed and, contrary to other similar breeds, are very happy dogs that rarely bark excessively. They’re also great for those persons who want a dog that enjoys being in their lap.”
“Wow, it seems like he might be the perfect dog for me then. Can I spend some time with him?” I asked.
The woman smiled and unlatched the kennel door. “Go right ahead. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask,” she urged.
I walked inside of the kennel and knelt down to stroke the dog. He licked my hand and I smiled.
“Well, aren’t you friendly!” I said, sitting down as the dog frolicked up into my lap and curled into a ball. I chuckled. “And evidently a lap dog for sure.”
The dog nuzzled in closer as I began to pet between his ears and I felt an instant connection with him—like he and I were always meant to cross paths. I knew, without having to see the rest of the dogs, that he was the one I wanted to take home—to be the family I had been denied.
I scratched between his ears and smiled as I stood up. The dog tilted its head and I smiled.
“Don’t you worry, little papillon. I’m going to do my best to adopt you today and get you out of this joint.”
I didn’t like having to leave the dog in the steel-caged-cell that reminded me of a prison for dogs. It didn’t sit well with me, but I had to go and finalize all the things that I assumed would be required to convince the society I was a good candidate and worthy of owning a dog.
That day had been nearly three years ago now. As I reminisced, I recalled how it was that Tremor actually developed his name.
The papillon took off running the moment he was released from his kennel and I was surprised when I saw him shaking once again
“Why does he shake like that?” I asked.
“The veterinarian says that he’s actually perfectly healthy—she thinks the tremors are from nervousness. Basically, it’s anxiety.”
“Tremors?” I pursed my lips and chuckled as I looked down at my new pet. “How about that one, pup? Here Tremor, come here, boy!” I called.
The dog came bounding out from beneath the bench he’d chosen to hide beneath and began licking my hand happily as I reached forward to stroke his head.
“I think that’s perfect. That’s what I will call you—Tremor, or Trem for short.” I smiled and scooped my new papi up. He licked my cheek eagerly. “Haha, you’re amazing, Trem. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
I bent down and latched Tremor’s leash to his collar and slid the raincoat over my grey hoodie. When I got home from work, I immediately put on my lounging clothes—a large hoodie, black and grey skull leggings, matching grey socks and a pair of black tennis shoes.
Simple and warm enough to withstand the elements. But when it came to keeping water out—definitely not effective.
Hopefully, the raincoat would solve that problem, because I knew taking my umbrella out would be more of a pain with my dog on a leash and the rain pounding against the windows.
I turned the door handle and grimaced. It looked like a freaking monsoon outside. I sure hoped the rest of the rainy season didn’t go on like this because I was going to need a whole new wardrobe if that was the case.
“Woof!” Tremor barked and leaped up onto my leg.
“I know, my peachy butt is slower than hell. Come on,” I muttered as I stepped out the door.
Tremor bounced down the slick steps and I followed after him, slowly but surely. We made it to the sidewalk and he ran directly for the yellow hydrant that sat on the corner of my street.
I watched as he peed for a good, and long, five minutes—at least. As the puddle of pee flowed over the already wet pavement it all seemed to pool together as it washed down the gutter.
“I’m a terrible owner,” I muttered, suddenly feeling like total crap for making my pet wait so long. But the storm had me honestly fearful for both mine and Tremor’s safety.
Lately, a swell of weird clouds had to settle over most of the area. What shocked me most, however, was the constant talk of the Armageddon. It was eerie, but even I had to admit that the strangeness of the storm clouds was unsettling—to say the least.
The storms had even hit places that normally didn’t see that kind of activity. And some places were so badly flooded that transit wasn’t even possible. I had heard that the New York subway system was out of commission in some places.
Thankfully, I didn’t live in New York, so that problem was easily evaded. However, my tiny little slice of heaven in Boston wasn’t untouched by the strange and complex storm system.
Tremor finally finished pottying and I sighed a breath of relief.
“Great! Finally! Let’s get back into the apartment,” I muttered, pulling slightly at his leash as I turned back toward the door. The leash slid from my grip suddenly.
CRACK!
The sudden crack of thunder overhead shocked me and I jumped slightly, turning to watch as Tremor immediately shot off into a full run—clearly terrified of the sound already.
“Fantastic!” I groaned as I took off into a jog after him. I caught up to him and bent over to scoop him up, lifting him from the ground.
CRACK!
Lightning seemed to strike right between my eyes—the blinding whiteness knocking me to the ground as everything suddenly went pitch black—like a snap of the fingers.
I cracked my eyes open to something wet and sloppy. Tremor was licking my face relentlessly. I scoffed and coughed slightly. God, my head felt like it had been stuck between a vice. What the hell had happened to me?
I leaned upward and glanced around—it was dark but the one thing I recognized was being outside. I was definitely outdoors and in what appeared to be some sort of woodsy area… or something.
I perked a brow and stroked the top of Trem’s head slightly, raking my fingers between his ears.
“It’s alright, boy,” I said.
What a joke, I thought. Here I was trying to calm down my dog, but inside I was starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable about the situation.
I stood up, though in retrospect it was a stupid thing to do.
BONK!
I hit my head on a low laying branch and scowled slightly.
“Shit!”
I held Tremor beneath my arm and rubbed the top of my scalp lightly. If my head had hurt before, it was aching like crazy now. I saw a ribbon of moonlight through the bushes and underbrush and ducked down slightly as I walked toward it.
I knelt down slightly as my eyes scanned the perimeter. I was mistaken, the light hadn’t been from the moonlight but rather what looked like a small dying fire. Was there someone else out here?
I slowly emerged from the tree line and glanced around. The place looked completely vacant, but the fire was still warm and I noticed what looked like a skin of wine lying near it.
I perked a brow. Was there anything else I could use? I walked around and spotted a large outspread leaf that appeared like a fan and tilted my head.
On top of it, there was an assortment of foods; some of which appeared strangely foreign and unlike anything I had ever seen before.
That said something. I was most definitely a foodie and exotic fruits had always appealed to me—especially when added to a nice icy adult beverage! Who didn’t love a drink with an umbrella and a sweet, fruity, uplifting feel? Hell, in my opinion, it was almost better than sex!
Looking around the encampment, I still didn’t see anyone but my stomach was already growling and the food left there was more than tempting—I wasn’t about to give up on the chance to eat something while I still had the chance.
I noticed what looked like blue cheese and scrunched up my nose.
I loved cheese—except for the blue kind! If I wanted penicillin I’d just go down to the doctor and get a script for the pill form. I couldn’t stand the pungent taste of it, no matter how delicate and decadent it was said to be. It just wasn’t for me.
Aside from the fruits and cheese, I noticed what appeared to be smoked meat and some sort of roasted meat. My mouth immediately began to water. I scooped up a piece of the meat first and tore into it.
“Mm, oh my gosh!” I murmured aloud. It was like the most succulent piece of prime rib I had ever been privileged to taste and it fell apart perfectly in my mouth.
I wondered if the fish would be as tasty and took a small bit of it. It reminded me a great deal of salmon in that it had a similar sweet taste, yet it seemed to be a bit richer than anything I was used to.
I decided that trying a tiny piece of the cheese with the fish might be acceptable and broke off a tiny portion—topping the flake of fish in my hand and eating it as I would if it were atop a cracker, despite my not having any.
I frowned and spat it out quickly. It tasted like the smell of rotten socks that had been left in someone’s locker for at least six weeks minimum! Pure disgusting yuck, if you asked my opinion.
“Woof!”
Tremor suddenly barked at me and I glanced at him. He was hungry and the smell of the roasted meat had to be torture to him. I chuckled and broke off a piece of the meat, holding it out to him as he took it from my hands.
“Yeah, I know. Pretty dang good,
right?” I asked, tearing off another piece and popping it into my mouth.
It was so heavenly. I couldn’t believe it so I wondered what the source of the meat had been. It was richer than the finest Angus steak I had ever eaten.
I handed Tremor another small piece and tore off another bit for myself. Looking over at the food, I grimaced slightly.
Whomever this belonged to, I sure hoped they were nice and understanding because we had already eaten half the meat that was on the makeshift leaf-plate.
Whoosh!
I turned my head as a spear came flying across the camp, nearly inches from my face, and leaped to my feet as Tremor began barking loudly.
“Yikes!”
I turned toward the direction that the spear had come from and was shocked to see a ginormous and grossly tall man standing before me.
The craziest part was that he was entirely purple!
My eyes widened and I stepped back, lifting Tremor from the ground as my eyes steadied on the man.
The man tilted his head and walked straight past me, lifting the spear from the ground as he glanced back at me and then toward my barking dog. He tilted his head and I wondered what the hell he was staring at and why he had just sent a spear almost directly into my skull.
“Excuse me? What the hell is your freaking problem?” I asked angrily.
The man walked over to the fire and glanced down at the leaf—his mouth falling agape as he glanced at what had been touched and what had not.
I frowned. Had I pissed him off by eating his food?
I prepared myself for the worst as he looked over at me and then walked toward me with a slight frown on his lips, his eyes falling to Tremor who still hadn’t stopped barking.