by A. G. Wilde
Grabbing his satchel, he stood and put it over his back.
“Let’s go.”
Pale eyes looked up at him.
“Ok,” she smiled and beckoned to him. “Follow me.”
As Clee-yo stood and began walking to the undergrowth, he was sure she would suddenly make a mad dash for cover to get rid of him.
But she didn’t.
With him walking behind her, her steps were hesitant, but she didn’t run.
Instead, she walked as if she wasn’t quite sure where she was going and his previous thought that she was hatching some sort of plan returned.
As they got into the cover of the bushes, the warmth of the undergrowth was welcoming. In front of him, the female bat away stray vines that hung in their path, and now and again, she’d glance behind her as if she was checking whether he was still there.
“I don’t know how you manage to walk so quietly in a place like this,” he heard her murmur as she swat at an insect that decided to land on her shoulder.
The question was, how did she manage to walk so noisily in a place like this?
Gaze falling to her feet, he recognized why.
Her feet were flat like his but unlike his four-toed feet, she had five bony toes and it didn’t look like she had any footpads.
Again, he wondered how she’d survived this long in the jungle all alone.
His gaze rose slowly, moving up her naked legs to stop at the piece of fabric covering her buttocks.
It was ripped and torn in many places but it still covered enough that she was modest. He couldn’t see anything and he realized belatedly that he was staring as if mesmerized at the sway of her hips as she walked.
As if she could read his thoughts, she turned and looked back at him, her gaze lingering on his chest a little too long before she suddenly stopped walking.
Where she’d stopped was at the edge of a cliff.
Frowning, Sohut walked close to the edge and looked over.
It was a sharp drop. All he could see were the tops of trees below.
When he turned his confused stare to the female, the mischief in her eyes was unsettling.
Hatching a plan, she was.
He’d told her to bring him to her hideout.
This definitely was not it.
“Your camp? Where is it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as a smirk appeared on her face.
Beautiful little trickster.
In the light of Hudo III’s star as it rose, she was even more striking than he’d thought before. The female was standing before him, her palms clenching and unclenching and her shoulders were set in the way he’d seen the long-legged grazing animals of the north stand before they would spring into action and dart off into the high fields.
Everything about her stance, from the way she was standing to the look in her eyes spelled that she was about to do something…something to him.
Yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t find the propensity to care. All he could feel was intrigue.
Instead of trying to stop her scheme, he was curious to find out what she was planning.
He must have inhaled an atri insect that’d made him go stupid.
Glancing over the edge of the cliff once more, Sohut narrowed his eyes.
Was she planning on trying to push him off?
He doubted she could but, just in case, he planted his feet firmly on the ground.
If that was her plan, he’d like to see her try.
“This isn’t your camp.” He cast his gaze to hers, still reading the deception simmering underneath her skin.
Her eyes twinkled as she raised an eyebrow and pointed upward.
Sohut’s frown deepened.
Up?
Stepping dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, he leaned out just enough to see above.
Sure enough, there was a small hole in the rock wall there. So small, it was almost imperceptible among the vines and hanging branches.
“You live there?” He pointed up before turning his surprised gaze her way.
The female smiled—one of triumph and pride.
No wonder the Gori’s hadn’t been able to locate her.
It was a cave and it was high enough for the tracker they’d given him to not work. Even if they’d come to stand directly below her nest, the tracker wouldn’t have been able to send a signal through the rock to so far above where they currently stood.
And if that was really her nest, she was smart to have found it.
It was the perfect hideout. The only thing was, it was right beside a treacherous fall.
“How do you get up there?”
There was that twinkle again before she moved toward the side where the rock wall met the level they were standing on. There were some thick vines there, and she took hold of one.
Jumping, the female hung onto the vine with both hands and began to shimmy upward as he looked at her in awe.
So that was how she made it up there.
Of course.
She was a few meters up when she looked down at him.
Right, he had to follow her.
As he did the same thing, hanging on to the vine, the weight of the both of them made the thing swing from side to side and Sohut realized, when he looked down, that they were hanging over the edge.
If the vine broke, they’d both go tumbling down, and he had no idea what was at the bottom of the cliff.
She did this every day?
Turning his gaze upward, his eyes widened as he blinked and looked away.
There was nothing underneath her flimsy covering.
Nothing but pale rounded buttocks.
Phek.
And now he was growing hard.
“…have to hurry.”
Caught up in his head, he hadn’t realized that as they shimmied upward to her den, the female had been muttering to herself.
“…feels like it’s going to break.”
What was going to break?
Frowning, he was tempted to look upward again but it was already hard trying to climb with his own cock impeding his hold on the only thing keeping you from falling to his death.
Still, risking a glance upward, he realized she was much quicker than he’d expected.
She was already on the landing above and she was crouching over the edge, looking down at him.
There was worry in her eyes
It made him pause and suddenly he was aware of his surroundings again.
Something glinted in the light and he realized it was the crude weapon she’d stabbed him with.
Sohut stiffened, his gaze moving to the vine.
Sure enough, where the vine connected with the rock was growing thin.
Phek.
His gaze flashed back to hers, not believing what he was seeing.
She’d cut the vine?
His body jerked as he dropped a little, some tendons of the vine breaking underneath his weight.
There was no way he was going to reach the top before the vine broke.
There was no other warning. With a snap, the vine lost tension completely.
Wide, pale eyes locked with his as he fell—horror filling her gaze.
He stared into those eyes till he couldn’t see them anymore.
Till he all he could feel was gravity pulling him down and the ground approaching fast.
Staring up at the cliff where he knew she was, his body went numb.
It brought back memories.
It wasn’t the first time a female had tried to get rid of him using excessive means.
His own mor had been the first to do so, selling him and his brother to the known enemy as a chid.
That hurt had been a surprise, coming from his mor, but even though Clee-yo had reason to do away with him, his life-organ still froze up and became solid at the fact that she’d actually carried through.
Numb.
So numb that when he hit the vegetation below, he felt nothing.
14
Cleo stared
over the cliff, leaning over as far as she could.
She didn’t dare to breathe, the horror of the situation too much to digest.
The drop down the mountain was a long one and she’d watched the alien free fall till he hit the undergrowth like a brick that landed smack into her stomach.
And all she could do was stare.
She’d always checked the vines’ integrity periodically and for the whole time she’d used them to climb up to the cave, she’d never worried about them snapping or tearing.
Staring at the part of vine that was left behind, her hand shuddered as she touched it.
She hadn’t expected his weight to have such a huge effect on the plants. Otherwise, she’d have probably tried to explain there was no way he could reach the cave.
As the horrific event replayed in her mind, she stayed at the cliff edge, her entire body shivering.
Shit.
He was probably dead.
A sick feeling filled her stomach.
She’d been so worried about taking him to her cave, worried about her future, worried about him turning on her that she should be happy now that he was potentially gone.
But happiness wasn’t what she was feeling.
He was probably ok, right? Cleo bit what was left of her fingernail and started on what was left of another one.
It was just like her to feel sorry for the one person who could put her back into a cage.
He’d said he was on her side, but she didn’t really know anything about him.
He could have been lying…
A sinking feeling entered her chest.
He was probably dead.
He was probably dead and that meant she was probably free—at least for now.
Even if he wasn’t dead, she reckoned it would take him three days or so to make it back to where she was.
If he wasn’t dead…
She kept her eyes peeled on the jungle below, searching for a sign of blue.
There was none.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, frantically searching for a sign the alien was alive, but the sun was high in the sky when she finally crept away from the cliff edge.
He was gone.
He was gone and now she was definitely alone.
Wawa was still missing and it felt like the world she knew was being turned upside down.
Plopping onto her bed, she took a deep breath.
She just watched a man die.
Fuck.
She’d been living in the jungle for a year but that didn’t mean she was wild. It didn’t mean she’d lost her humanity!
For a split second, she thought about taking the long trek around the mountain to get down to where he’d fallen, just to see if he was all right.
But that would mean putting herself in more danger.
She hadn’t heard more roars over the last few hours but that didn’t mean the dangerous animals weren’t out there.
And so she was stuck in limbo.
It was a worrisome place to be.
Cleo’s eyes fluttered open.
Anxiety and panic from the last few hours came rushing back to her and she took a few moments to breathe.
Shit.
This had to be one of the toughest of situations she’d ever faced in her life.
Blinking up into the darkness, she had the distinct feeling she’d been asleep for quite a few hours.
The stress of the last few days seemed to have caught up with her.
Groaning, she glanced over to where Wawa usually slept.
Even in the dark, she knew he wasn’t there.
That brought back the fact that all was not right in the world.
She’d just witnessed a death.
The horror of it came back to her and she sat upright immediately.
As she stared into the darkness though, a chill ran down her spine, causing her to stiffen.
It was pitch black in the cave because she’d never made a fire but even with the lack of light, she had the distinct feeling she wasn’t alone.
The air—the darkness—felt thick.
Swallowing hard, her wide eyes searched the dark cave but picked up nothing.
Maybe she was just imagining things?
“Wawa?” She dared to whisper. IT HAD TO BE WAWA.
There was no sound.
Nothing moved, not even the air. Cleo’s shoulders sagged a little.
It was the stress of everything she’d been through.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she flopped back against the bed.
For a few seconds, she kept her eyes shut, a sob lodging in her throat.
He’d seemed like a good guy, the blue alien. He’d been the kindest alien she’d met since she’d been taken away.
To see his life be snuffed out right in front of her was…traumatizing.
Sniffing, she swallowed hard and that’s when she felt it. A slight shift in the air against her skin. And when she opened her eyes, a gasp caught in her throat.
The blue alien.
He was in her cave.
Even in the darkness, she knew it was him.
Corrosive green eyes glared down at her, shining in the darkness almost like a cat’s would.
He was so close. So close she could smell him.
It was a mix of the smell of metallic soil and wet vegetation.
Her eyes widened in their sockets as she froze.
It was like seeing a ghost.
As her lungs remembered to operate and her breaths came hurrying in and out of her chest, the alien held her gaze and she was vaguely aware of him launching himself on top of her, his two arms enclosing her on each side.
“You’re—” she began, but her words were cut off as the alien roared—and, it was quite literally a roar—in her face.
Fangs.
He had fangs.
How the fuck had she not noticed that before?!
He had fangs. Sharp, sharp fangs that glistened even in the darkness.
And this very angry fanged male was right above her, ready to rip her apart.
Why?
Why was he acting so…differently?
“You,” he snarled and Cleo swallowed hard.
Something had definitely changed inside him. Maybe she was seeing a ghost.
Even after he’d caught her in those first few moments, she hadn’t experienced this ferocity from him.
Frantic, she tried getting from within the cage he’d made with his body but she couldn’t even move from underneath him.
There was nowhere to run.
“H-how? How did you survive?”
Something sharp ran against her cheek and her eyes widened even more when she realized it wasn’t a knife but one of his fingers.
He had claws.
Sharp claws; it felt as if, should he put any pressure on his finger, her skin would break and she would bleed.
“You,” he repeated, his voice so deep and threatening she could feel the fear settle deep into her bones. “You cut the vine.”
Cleo swallowed hard, fear vibrating within her before his words connected in her mind.
“What? No! I didn’t cut the vine.”
“You did.” He said it so calmly, the fact his fangs were still right above her almost seemed out of place.
Wait.
Cleo blinked.
He could understand her?
He could understand her!
“I saw you there with your blade,” he came closer, moving his head to the side so he was speaking directly into her ear, his voice lowering to a whisper. “You cut it.” His warm breath brushed over her skin as he continued. “And now, I’m very, very angry.”
He leaned in then and Cleo stiffened, her hands flattening against his chest as she tried to push him away.
“I didn’t cut the vine. It snapped!”
“I might have to punish you.”
Cleo gulped.
She couldn’t imagine what he had in mind.
All she knew was tha
t he wasn’t in his right mind because he didn’t seem to be listening to her.
He was running his nose against her neck and she didn’t dare to move, lest he bury his fangs into her skin.
But he didn’t bite her. Instead, he buried his nose even deeper into her neck and did the strangest thing.
He inhaled so deeply, it was like he was trying to pull her skin up through his nose.
“Phek,” she heard him mutter.
His hands moved down to grip her by the hips as he inhaled again, this time his mouth opening to the point she felt his fangs as he pulled them across the delicate flesh on her neck.
Something deep in her caused her core to throb.
Something deep, meaning that whore called Libido who didn’t realize this was the worst moment to be turned on.
The alien nibbled her neck. Nibbled it! And a deep groan rumbled through his chest.
If this was his idea of punishment, despite that she did nothing wrong, she may…like it?
As the alien held her waist tighter, he nibbled her neck again before running his fangs to the center of her throat and instead of filling her with terror, her nonexistent panties were getting wet.
She felt it then, the first throb of his response, and Cleo blinked.
That hard thing nestled against her wasn’t his frickin’ leg.
“Umm…” She began and the alien froze.
He lifted his head and looked down at her, his green eyes shining in the darkness.
As if realizing what he was doing or what he’d almost done, he rolled off her suddenly and Cleo was left staring at what she assumed was his back.
He was on the side where she’d placed her piece of trusty shrapnel and her gaze fell to the spot at just the thought of it.
“Don’t you even dare.”
How the hell did he know?
“I wasn’t…”
He turned and looked at her then, his gaze traveling down her body and she realized he could see much better than she could in the dark.
She still couldn’t make him out properly but it was clear he wasn’t having any trouble seeing her with the lack of light.
“You cut the vine,” he repeated when his eyes met hers again and Cleo swallowed once more.
“I didn’t.”
“You phekking cut the vine.” A sound like a huff of a laugh caught her ear and she’d have thought she was mistaken if the alien didn’t lean his head back and actually laugh.