Dragon's Mate: A Scifi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 2)

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Dragon's Mate: A Scifi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 2) Page 5

by Miranda Martin


  Adrenaline pumps into my body. My heart beats in double time and my muscles shake with the need to flee. He's shaking his head as he speaks. Gripping my wrists together roughly in one hand he pulls my arms up over my head forcing me up onto my tip toes. He takes the badge from me and waves it in front of my face still speaking rapidly.

  "I don't understand," I say as tears well in my eyes.

  I do my best to choke them back. He pulls me closer forcing me to move towards him on my tip toes. He shakes me, not violently, but enough that it's scary. He speaks more but the language barrier stops any understanding.

  "I'm sorry," I say as I feel the first tear fall down my cheek.

  He stops talking and it looks like he's staring at the tear. My heart pounds as I'm gasping air and I wait for whatever comes next. I'm completely in his control and that fact really hits me for the first time. I don't know where we are, how to get back to my friends, or have any ability to survive out here that doesn't depend on him. Something changes in his face. I can't really put my finger on any one thing but it goes from angry to something that looks like regret. He steps back one step putting a small amount of space between us then he lowers his arm until I'm back on the flats of my feet. Only then does he let go of my wrists.

  He says something, his voice is soft and he doesn't meet my eyes. He holds the badge up, waves it, then shakes his head staring down the entire time. He shrugs then steps past me and picks up the box that the badge came out of. As I watch he carefully places the badge back into the box, closes it, then rests his hand on it while bowing his head.

  Is it sacred? Like some kind of religious artifact? If he wasn't so alien and dragon like I'd think he was praying. Do alien dragons pray? He picks the box up and there is a definite air of reverence. He turns towards me, speaks still without looking up, then shakes his head. He holds the box up between us, says the same thing again shaking his head side to side this time to emphasize his point, then walks over to the table. He sits down then puts the box next to the wall on the far side of him.

  "Well, all right then," I say taking a deep breath. "That was interesting."

  He doesn't say anything but he does glance at me quickly.

  "Anything else I'm not supposed to touch?" I ask.

  He picks up a tube and then his cloth which he dips in the paste and starts polishing. My belly rumbles loudly and he stops mid-motion.

  "Yeah, uhm, food?" I ask miming eating something when he glances in my direction.

  He says something and it sounds like a question. Theres' a lilt at the end of it anyway.

  "Food?" I ask miming again. "You know, give me something good to eat?"

  I smile hoping to relieve any remaining tension over whatever the hell just happened. He repeats the same question. Well it sounds the same to me so I'm assuming it is. I pat my belly, mime food, then ask him again. Slowly he sounds out the word.

  "Fffooooddd," he says.

  I nod enthusiastically. "Yes!"

  He pats his belly then mimes eating in the same way I had a moment ago and I encourage him with more enthusiastic nodding. He seems to get my intent as he stands up and walks over to a chest I haven't explored yet. Though thinking of the last box I opened maybe I should avoid anything that is closed. He opens the chest and my stomach grumbles anew as the scent of edible things fills the space.

  He pulls out a leather wrapped package and opens it to reveal small, leathery looking strips. He picks up one and tosses it into his mouth chewing while motioning the package towards me and nodding his head. I take one and put it in my mouth. Spice overwhelms my taste buds. The meat really is like leather, I chew on it trying to break it down so I can eat it but tears flow freely as the spice burns it's way into my mind and my teeth are apparently ineffective. I can't break it down.

  Exhaustion swells up and I'm too tired to think anymore. I spit out the meat into my hand and shake my head side to side wiping my tears on the sleeve of my shirt. My belly grumbles loudly but this isn't food no matter how badly I need to eat. Or drink, anything to drink would be welcome at this point. Shaking my head I look at him then turn away unable to meet his eyes.

  Walking to the back of the room I climb into the bed and pull the curtain closed. This sucks. This sucks so much. Maybe if I sleep a bit it'll seem better. I drift off to the sound of my grumbling belly. Sleep is my only escape.

  6 SVERRE

  She climbs back into my bed and closes the curtain while moisture leaks from her eyes. An ache forms in my chest watching her. She needs to eat. She needs epis. Staring at the dried bivo meat in my hand I carefully wrap it and return it to the chest. Kneeling before the chest while staring at the curtain I debate what to do.

  The planet is killing her. I can't deny what I see. I don't know her race but the signs are clear for anyone that cares to look. Her skin is lax and too red. Her internal temperature is burning and its very apparent she's not adapted. The only answer for her is epis and I have none. My body is adapted to the heat and I don't need it often. Harvesting it alone is almost impossible as well and who do I have to help me? No one.

  A possessive desire boils inside my gut that I have no other outlet for besides anger. Undirected, irrational, it eats at me filling me with a need to destroy something. I concentrate and focus on breathing. A facet of the bijass. I know that's all it is but it doesn't make the feelings, the desires, the wants any less real or any less able to consume me. I shouldn't have gotten rough with her. That was a mistake. She doesn't deserve to be treated like that and yet when I saw the badge in her hand I lost control.

  I haven't looked at or touched that badge in decades. It's been hidden away which is how I like it. A relic of the past that belongs there. Memories stir when I see it and I don't want to remember. Who I was then is not who I am now. I'm not that person any longer. That person did terrible things. That person is guilty of crimes that I can't and won't face. I don't have to because I'm no longer him. Those mistakes are still being paid for. Every time I walk out the door and see my planet empty. Every day I wake up alone and know that my race is slowly dying I pay the price. I don't remember the details. It's enough to know that it was all my fault.

  The lights outline her shape behind the curtain. The rise of her hip, the fall along her side, the rise back to her shoulder outlined in silhouette is beautiful. As I push past the anger pulsing through me desire replaces it. She is mine. I must have her. I knew it when I saw her. I know in part this is the bijass, the primal instinct to collect and horde things that please me but my feelings are more than that. If that's all it was I would take her and she would be mine. But I am not an animal. I am a man.

  I must win her over. I must treat her with kindness and show her that I'm not a monster. I wonder how much the other Zmaj has revealed to her? How much of our culture, of what we once were, does she know? She doesn't seem to know our language or if she does she's doing an amazing job of playing dumb. I don't think that's the case. I watch her eyes and there's not a hint of understanding when I speak to her.

  Her language is musical and has so many soft sounds in it. It feels strange in my mouth when I try to say them. Her name is like that of a delicate flower and rolls off my tongue. I sound it out again speaking very soft so as not to risk waking her up. It makes me smile saying it. Feeling more myself I rise up and look around my home.

  This is what I'm reduced to. Once I was a leader. Once my home was one of the finest on the planet and I had multiple workers who cared for my every need. Now there is me alone tucked away in this cave with the few amenities I've allowed myself. This is not sufficient for her. I can do better than this. Moving as silent as I can I move over and stand outside the curtain to the bed and listen to her breathing. It's smooth and even so I believe she is deeply asleep.

  I will use this time to improve the space. That will show her I am not a monster. I'm sure she must have been terrified when I lost control. If I want her to accept me, to choose me as I've chosen her then it will help.
She must see more of who I am, not the monster that I can be. As a plan comes to me a smile forms with it. I will surprise her.

  ***

  The rock slides back into place blocking the entrance to the cave I call home. Turning my back on it I walk down the tunnel then slide through the curtain into the room I call home. Moving as quietly as I can and hoping that Jolie is still asleep I stop once I'm through and stare at the still closed curtain to the bed. Her silhouette still rests there apparently not having moved at all. Perfect.

  I set down the pack I'm carrying then take out the flowers I've spent the past two marks gathering. I place them around the room shifting and adjusting them until at last I stand back and examine my work. The normally plain and dingy place is now an explosion of color that carefully blends from one hue to the next as the eye travels. It's perfect. I want her to see that though my home is harsh and quite deadly it is also a place of beauty, like her.

  I close my eyes and inhale deeply of the flower's perfume. Pleasant memories stir beneath the fog of the bijass but nothing rises to the surface. It's fine, memories are for yesterday. This is better and I feel certain she will appreciate it when she wakes. Now the next part of my plan. I don't have epis for her to take but I do have a small store of guster meat. Guster lay their eggs in the same caverns where epis grows and feed on the sismis that live in them. The meat of a guster is infused with epis and will at least help her feel better. It's not the same as taking the epis directly but it can assist her metabolism in dealing with the heat.

  Some of my collection covers the fire pit. I don't use it often. I smoke a lot of meat after I kill it and don't have to worry about it for weeks. I de-clutter the pit then breathe out, releasing flame from the glands deep in my throat. While the fire crackles I dig through my storage chest and find the guster meat. I have it wrapped in oiled cloth to keep it from spoiling but still check it when I find it to make sure it hasn't started to turn.

  It smells fine which is good because I don't know what I would do to keep her safe if I had to go out hunting. Setting the meat aside I dig out a small, flat piece of metal to cook it on. I retrieve a small bag of herbs then I'm ready. The metal heats and while it's doing so I season the meat then lay it on the sizzling hot surface. The odor of spice and meat fills the room competing with the scent of the flowers. A smile spreads across my face as I hear her stir behind the curtain.

  Searing the meat on each side I turn it frequently while I let it cook through. This won't fix Jolie but it will help, buying time while I figure out a solution. She needs epis and I'll have to get some for her, somehow. I'll handle that problem later. Right now I need to make it right with her the way I treated her. She doesn't deserve my aggression. It wasn't right.

  I pull the meat from the pan as the curtain slides aside. She swings her legs out of the bunk and I watch as she looks around. Her eyes widen as her mouth spreads into a wide smile. She turns her head side to side taking in all the flowers and decorations I gathered for her pleasure. She speaks rapidly and I don't understand the words but the sound her voice creates a swelling sensation in my chest. I smile and she nods sliding out of the bed to her feet. She comes close to me then reaches out and places a hand on my chest.

  The world stops as she touches me. It's as if everything is frozen into this moment in time. The heat of her skin warms me through the cloth of my shirt. A tingle emanates from where her fingertips rest against me and my cock stiffens in slow motion, moving at the same speed as time. My hearts beat once in an elongated moment of time that drags out because I don't want it to end. She's touching me of her own free will. The rich, creamy brown pools of her eyes look deep into my own and I want to kiss her.

  I stop myself as I lean in with every intention of our lips meeting. She has not invited me in. A touch is not an invitation to more. Fear of rejection but more of pushing her too far kills the joy and sensations of her touch. I've already made mistakes with her, I won't make more. She must see me as the man I am. She is a treasure to be loved, respected, and cared for, not something to be taken lightly.

  I want, more than anything right now, to hear my name on her lips. Hearing her say my name in her musical voice, the way it will roll off her tongue, fills me with a lightness.

  "Sverre," I say tapping my chest. I repeat this three times saying my name slowly.

  She watches, studying my lips, so I repeat my name trying to break it down into the components sounds.

  "Serrrrre," she tries but it's not right.

  Smiling in what I hope is an encouraging way I repeat myself several more times and she mimics along.

  "Sverre," she says, her mouth carefully forming my name while her fingers still rest lightly on my chest.

  "Jj-ooo-lee," I say, struggling to form the soft sounds correctly.

  Her smile is all the reward I could ask for. Her face transforms into something exquisite, delicate, bright, consuming all my thoughts and attention. Her blunt teeth shine bright and white, her full lips spread, my cock throbs with need and the urge to kiss her fills me once more but I resist.

  I motion to the table. She nods but her fingers linger on my chest. Does she want me to kiss her? Does she want more? I wish I could understand her language. Dim memories stir and I know with certainty that before the devastation I could have understood her. Before, when we had technology, when the old things still worked, language was no barrier. Now it's a gulf separating us, limiting our communication to primitive gestures and desperate attempts to be understood. Anger flares deep in my guts at the impotence of it and that vague sense of what I've lost. Watching her move to the table, the way she walks, the way her hips sway give focus to better feelings. She bends over part way to pull the chair out and the round softness of her backside pushes aside all other thoughts. I recall how her body swells back there and the softness of how it feels. My cock throbs uncomfortably and I have shake myself.

  Food. Focus on the food. She sits while I concentrate on placing the meat on plates then the plates on the table, one in front of each of us. She leans over hers and I hear her inhale deeply.

  "Mmmm," she says.

  It's a soft, sensual sound that does nothing to help me keep my mind on the food. My cock stirs and it is an act of will to focus on anything else. Retrieving two cups from a shelf I place them on the table then get back into my storage trunk. I find the bag I want which is sewn together so that it has a small point which is capped at the end to contain its contents. I pour the white-ish liquid into the cups then hang the bag on the wall.

  "Eat," I say motioning from the plate to her.

  She looks down then up at me but doesn't start eating. I motion again and she shrugs waiting for something but I have no idea what. Frustration builds and the soft anger at our inability to communicate returns. I love the sound of her voice but can only imagine how wonderful it would be if the musicality of it was conveying concepts and ideas. I take up a piece of the meat off my own plate and place it in my mouth then chew it. After I do I motion for her to do the same this time more emphatically. She has to eat, the trace amounts of epis in the meat will make her feel better. I need her to eat it.

  Sadness passes across her face but she picks up a piece of the meat even if her shoulders drop as she does and the smile fades away. The meat passes her lips. Full, sweet lips that I want nothing more than to explore the taste of. It's distressing watching her start to chew. Resignation is on her face as she does and I can see she is bracing herself for something bad. I know with certainty she expects the meat to make her sick but this will be different. It has to be because I don't have any other options.

  Epis was the life-blood of our planet. The galaxy came to our door for it. It was also our downfall. I need it to be a savior again. It has to save her, turn around the harm that the harshness of my planet is doing to her body. She looks up and meets my eyes as she chews. It's working. I can see it in the way her face lights up, the glint in her eyes, the increase in the speed of her chewing. It's wor
king, thank the stars. I nod encouraging her and point at the plate motioning that she should eat more.

  She does. I eat with her but I don't need the epis so I do so slower. She eats two pieces then starts talking, gesturing as she does. She nibbles at the next piece of meat without stopping the flow of her conversation. Feelings of peace and contentment fill my thoughts as she talks. I don't know what she's saying but I don't care. I can be happy just listening to her.

  She reaches for the glass and takes a drink which causes her to cough and splutter. Damn, I hadn't thought to try and warn her about the effects of the lissta. It burns when you swallow it but has restorative properties. She pounds her chest, looks at me, says something then laughs. Frowning at my own stupidity in not warning her I grab a cloth and wipe her mouth for her. She gives me an odd look that I don't know how to interpret. She says something.

  "I wish I could understand you," I say. "I would love to know your thoughts."

  I finish wiping her cheek then place the cloth next to her. She takes up the glass and this time she sips slowly and doesn't react as badly. She leans back in her chair and smiles. She points to the glass, makes the mmm sound, then rubs her belly. I smile and she nods enthusiastically. Words may be a barrier but we're finding ways to communicate. She eats the rest of her meat so I put the last two pieces from my plate onto hers.

  She waves her hands and shakes her head side to side. She needs it so I motion at it then at her miming eating. Again she does the hand wave and head shake. Hissing I point sharply. I know what's best here. There is only trace amounts of epis in the meat and she's not eaten enough for the effect to last more than a few hours. It has to be consumed in sufficient amounts to build up in her system.

 

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