Bride of Glass

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Bride of Glass Page 6

by Jeanette Lynn


  “Don’t let him get me! Don’t let him get me!” I found myself crying out, panicked, crawling around on all fours in the wet muck. Saying a little prayer under my breath, I scrambled back behind my beast’s legs to grip them, pleading desperately. I was tripping him up something awful, but I wasn’t paying much attention to that right this moment.

  The green-eyed beast froze, frowning down at me, then glanced up at my beast, clearly surprised. Shaking his head as his gaze slid back to me, realizing I was entreating my beast to keep the green-eyed one away from me, not the other way around, he grunted, grumbling something, and backed up.

  Stepping back farther, he held a hand out to me, crouching down, ignoring my beast’s warning growls as he crooned something to me softly. Fingers curling towards him, he was trying to coax me forward. What was he saying? Come to me so that I might eat you, my pretty? I had no effing clue.

  Eyes widening until I thought they might bug out, I scuttled back, my fingers still clutching my beast’s fur. “No,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “No. Go-g-g-g go away!” I knew—or at the very least felt I was pretty sure, I could note for a fact, at the moment at any rate—my current captor had no plans to currently eat me. Uhm, at the moment. Erm, I hoped.

  At my startled shout, the green-eyed beast stood, his lips thinning. “Come,” he growled out low, pointing to a spot in front of him, in freaking broken English. “Come to Rek, female.” Like a dog or a good little pet. Good god, I’d rather my kidnapper lifted me up to jiggle some more shut up into me.

  My beast snarled low in his throat and stilled, stiffening.

  “No!” I squeaked out, losing some of my false bravado as this Rek’s lips pulled back, flashing a set of wicked sharp fangs in a menacing display.

  It was all part of some greater plan to lull me into a false sense of security with that one, I was sure of it, and that nasty teeth gnashing gave me the proof I felt I needed to come to that conclusion. He had possible woman-eater practically stamped across his forehead. No way would I so willingly go to the slaughter. He’d probably order me straight into the pot!

  “Rek Lo denaii warrior. Tokre no protect. Bad male. Bad mate.” Tapping his temple, he gestured to my beast-napper. “Tokre broken.”

  He’s broken? Glancing up at my beast, I failed to see how. “Does he not eat enough people?” I found myself mumbling, shrinking back as Rek’s green eyes widened before narrowing thoughtfully. Was he a beastie version of a no-humans-itarian?

  His gaze going between us calculatingly, Rek nodded, his thick lips curling up in an unmistakable sneer. “Round little females. Cooks on spit. Come, female. Rek protect.”

  My jaw dropped, heart pounding, and I gaped anew. “You’re lying,” I sniffled out, tightening my grip on my beast’s legs to the point it must be hurting him.

  Oh god in heaven, was he lying? He was lying! Get ahold of yourself, Rosie! Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic! He’s lying! I am not panicking!!

  I was panicking.

  One hand clutching my chest, I was breathing heavily by this point, as if I’d been screaming the words pounding through my overtaxed skull aloud, as well.

  Glancing over his shoulder to frown down at me, my beast unlatched me from his legs, despite my stifled protests, and snatched up the dirty-looking fur he’d kept me wrapped in. Tossing it over my head, ignoring my shrieks as I disappeared, trapped inside it, he scooped me up and carried me into the room with the other women.

  Dumping me unceremoniously onto the hard floor inside and ripping my fur rug off, my beast-napper chuffed a huff and left without another word.

  My eyes filled as my skin prickled—I’d never felt more alone or abandoned in my life. What did that mean? Was he now ditching me? Am I to fend for myself until some other beast comes along and decides to give me a go? What was all this about? What was going on?!!

  Small hiccups started in my chest, but I held them back, my knees tucking into my chest, curling up tight.

  Soon others started to join in, just as scared and alone in a room full of strangers. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks and I cried quietly, and often times not so quietly, wishing I was back home. I should never have gone on that stupid snow-cation to begin with.

  Strong arms picked me up as my shoulders started to shake, scaring the stuffing out of me, and I gaped as my gaze was pulled into fathomless black eyes.

  Half dragging me outside, he let go to stand back, lifting up a different but equally as thick pelt to toss it over my shoulders. He adjusted the thing about me, growling softly in my face as he pulled it tight around my shoulders. Confused, clutching at the ends of the blanket pelt, I stared up at him, sniffling noisily as he watched me.

  “Th-th-thank you?” The words came out stuttered and fumbling. Heck, I didn’t even know why I’d said them. Now I’m thanking him? Kidnap me, make me literally wet myself, drag me to this other place to do who only know’s what, and he gives me a clean blanket and I’m all suddenly fucking grateful?

  My hands tightened on the fur wrapped around me until my knuckles were white. I just want to go home, I thought sadly, the chill nipping the air pricking at me. I just wanted to go home.

  Fighting a growl in his throat when the tears filling my eyes threatened to spill, he yanked me to his chest, bending low and leaning in, mouthing words against my cheek as he nuzzled his way down the skin of my throat, his thumbs reaching out to swipe angrily at the wetness on my face. He paused there, face buried against my throat, his wide hands stroking my cheeks. His thick body shuddered as he hunched, crowding down to reach me, and his tongue rasped, hot and languid, against my skin.

  Gasping, then shivering, I squeaked, alarmed, and fear shot through me. As fast as that, he was snarling under his breath, pulling back, turning me around and pushing me back into the hut.

  Blinking so my eyes could adjust, I stumbled in, more confused than ever before. Was he tasting me or... tasting me? I couldn’t be sure. When I glanced over my shoulder, a question in my eyes, he was gone. Dazed, I tripped towards the fire, thumping down to land somewhere in the huddle of the women piled around in a misshapen circle.

  Soon a woman in an animal skin dress and pants, a thick fur like the rest of us over her shoulders, entered and bowls of soup were passed around. Just as fast she left. Hell, half the women here probably didn’t even notice, we were all so dazed and confused.

  Things slowly started to settle down as the room filled. Just as slowly, I felt my heart rate, which was still thudding wildly even now, slow to a less disjointed staccato. Tickers are supposed to thump-thump, not thud-crash-thump-thud sharply, like it might stop at any moment. Since this whole thing started I’ve felt like I was on the verge of a heart attack.

  Ascertaining that the food was not in fact poisoned or anything as others around me finished theirs and had yet to keel over, my tummy screaming at me to eat or be eaten, I heartily dug in. So they weren’t going to drug the food to make it easier to possibly eat us or just plain make our asses more biddable... I couldn’t tell if that was comforting or disconcerting.

  Everyone in our little troupe was still in the zombie stage, mindless with panic, worry, and fear, too shell shocked to snap out of it just yet. It would happen soon enough, we’d all wake up and things would really begin to gain some perspective, and then maybe we could all figure a way out of this, I thought, praying for patience.

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  "Where are we?" A petite blonde woman whimpered—Daisy, I think she’d said her name was—huddling into her fur as she tried to wipe stray tears from her big cornflower blue eyes. “I want to go home!”

  "I don't know," the long-haired brunette I’d seen at the rock formation told her quietly. Glancing around the room, she wrapped her arms around her knees harder, hugging them to her chest tighter as she tried to ward of the cold. She was dressed in warm enough clothes, but she didn’t have a fur to throw over her shoulders and snuggle up in like the rest of us.

  "What do you think t
hey want with us?" a tall, short-haired red head queried, her hands shaking a little as she gripped her thick fur tighter around her shoulders, huddled up with everyone else.

  "What did they say to you?" the brunette woman asked the room at large, her sea foam green eyes glancing up and peering around.

  "The one who took me just kept sniffing me and saying something about a mate or mates... I don't know exactly. He kept switching back and forth between whatever it is he speaks and English," a stocky, older blonde woman admitted, grimacing at the idea.

  "The one who took me didn't say anything.” I was remembering all his grunting and growling, not a single real, actual full word uttering from his throat. He’d mouthed mine, but it didn’t count. Had Rek been right? Did Tokre, my beast, like to eat little round females? Is that why he’d chosen me? “He just kept grunting and growling at me,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper, letting Rek’s scare tactic work. If it even was a scare tactic. Oh god... “He's so scary.”

  Someone reached over and gave me a there-there pat I didn’t really feel as I quietly gave in to tears. I’m dead. So, so dead. Rek said Tokre’s broken and he won’t protect me... Broken, like, eat me? Or broken, like, let others?

  "Mates?" the brunette woman mumbled, wide-eyed, absorbing what the blonde woman had just said. "Mates! I'm not mating him! Good god! If that's what he's thinking, I'd rather he made good on his promise to eat me!" The brunette woman blurted out in a rush, her voice getting very shrill and high-pitched.

  "Eat us!?” I wailed wildly, hiccupping in distress. "If we don't mate with them they're going to eat us?!" Oh shit! Oh god! Oh my freakin’ no! I knew it! I frickin’ knew it! Rek hadn’t been lying! I’d called it, and I just- I just- I knew it!

  Well, this little round chickie isn’t going down without a fight! I’ll be damned if I end up stripped of flesh and roasted on a spit! Or... or... ever eat barbeque again!

  "Oh my god!" someone else cried out.

  "I don't want to die!!"

  Before long everyone was screaming and or crying, myself included, and all hell broke loose.

  As I screamed and screeched with the best of them, a plan was forming in my mind. Screw survival of the fittest, this was survival of the most desperate! And desperation, thinking of all the insane things I may or may not be willing to do in order to live another day, I had that shit in spades.

  Watch out, man beast, prepare to meet your tigerlady! Or tiger-fly, should I piss myself again and chicken out.

  Tiger something, for shit’s sake! I’m not going to die like that, damn it.

  ˜˙˜*˜˙˜

  One by one all of the males came to collect their females, the rest of us stragglers ushered to a second hut to wait out late pick up. It very much stank of forgotten kindergartners on a hectic Monday.

  I didn’t know what had become of the brunette woman, but her beast didn’t look very happy. He was much meaner looking than my angry beast, bulkier and thicker, too.

  Soon everyone was gone but me, and I sat there and waited.

  A wide shouldered, squat male came lumbering by the little hut I sat huddled in, grumbling under his breath as he poked his head in and peered around.

  Upon spotting me, he grunted, tilting his riotous head of short, unruly tufts of thick looking whitish blue hair to tug at his ear. “You mate where?”

  “My mate?” I mumbled faintly, blinking up at him.

  “You mate.” Narrowing his already squinting, large, almond shaped orange eyes in my direction, he frowned. “No mate?” Crouching down as he slid across the floor, he sniffed the air noisily, his wide, flat nose scrunching up as he scented the air. “You mate, female. Who fur?”

  Reaching out as if to touch me, his giant hand coming right at me, I squealed and lurched back.

  “D-d-don’t- Don’t you touch me!” I shouted, scrambling towards a small table and chairs to duck behind. “I-I- don’t you touch me! I’m-I’m...” Mind racing, I gasped, “I’m Tokre’s!”

  That had the beast pausing. “Tokre’s?” His thick, fluffy white caterpillar brows shot up, orange eyes widening comically. “Tokre have mate?” He looked like some kind of living anime character, his eyes grew so large, those big peepers of his appearing exaggerated. Bug-eyed, literally, did that hurt him? Was it physically painful?

  No. Keep on task, Rosa.

  Stayin’ alive was the prime directive. Right.

  “Uh... uh, uhm, yes!” Chin lifting stubbornly, despite a minor wobble, I hid my trembling hands in the folds of my thick fur cape.

  While Tokre may or may not want to eat me, which I might be able to negotiate per the whole mate deal, should he be amenable—which I think he is—this one here, had nothing but sex on the brain, and the giant boner to prove it.

  No, I would not be substituting one horrible fate for another. Brood mare beast baby maker was not going to happen. If I could help it.

  “I’m his mate. And he’s mine, or however it goes. So... if you’ll just direct me to his... uhm, lair, that would be, erm, peachy!” Do monsters live in lairs? Huts? Houses? Caves?

  Huts. Duh. What am I thinking? I’m in a freaking hut! God, I’m so stupid sometimes, I swear!

  “Lair?” the wild-haired beast rumbled. “Tokre have hut, and Tokre... broke.” There he went tapping his head. What is with that? “Tokre no have mate.”

  “Tokre, yes, have mate,” I growled out impatiently. “Tokre has Rosalinda!”

  Finger thrusting out, I pointed between my breasts, practically stabbing myself in the chest with my index finger. Grimacing instantly, I pulled my hand back to rub the spot. Ouch, man, that hurt.

  “Rosalinda is Tokre’s little, round mate, which he is not going to eat, okay, because that shit is no-kay, okay? Rosalinda wants to take,” I finger-walked my hand to an imaginary house, “her little light brown butt home to Tokre,” I mimed sleeping, “to sleep.”

  Forcing my trembling shoulders to straighten, chin lifting high, snubbing the gigantic beast man with what I hoped proved an imperious air, I huffed haughtily. “Now, please,” deep brown eyes narrowing, I glared down the length of my pert nose at the orange-eyed beast, gesturing he should go first, “whoever the hell you are, if you’d please lead the way!”

  “You Rosie-linda,” he grunted out, poking me in the chest, sending me stumbling back.

  Reaching out, he caught me easily, yanking me back to a standing position. Pushing out his big, barreled chested, he breathed in deeply, pushing it out even further.

  “Me Zhuii.” As if waiting for some kind of reaction from me, the orange-eyed beast held his pose and just stood there.

  We both just stood there, waiting, while I stared at him uncomprehendingly, trying to figure out why the massive male was standing there puffed out like a blow fish.

  “Riiiiggghhht,” I muttered slowly. “That’s great, uh, Zeus-y.”

  Grunting, his brow furrowing, the male deflated faster than a popped balloon, grumbling under his breath, “Zhuii. Zooo-ee.”

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded absently, a million other things on my mind at the moment, and he wasn’t one of them. “Okay.” Zoosoo, Zoobie, whatever. He huffed noisily and I glanced over at him. “Can you take me home now?”

  Blinking, the orange-eyed beast grunted and turned, more grumbling, followed by a bit of growling, but promptly started stomping out the door. “Follow Zhuii, Rosie-linda.”

  Waving me after him with a meaty arm, he lumbered off a dirt path. Scrambling to catch up, I stumbled after.

  “It’s Rosalinda, but some people call me-”

  “Harrumph.” Shoulders slumping, Zhuii grumped and growled loudly, prompting me to shut up, muttering to himself all the way down the path.

  “Uh... Rosie,” I finished lamely. I didn’t know why I was even bothering to try and make small talk with him—it wasn’t like he cared. Isn’t like he wants to eat me, either, in the cannibalistic sense.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I studied his wide back, comparing his
thick frame to Tokre’s. If Tokre is big all around, and Zhuii is thick all around, and Tokre has the junk to match, then do they all have the, ahem, more or less...? I cringed, just thinking about it. Distancing myself a bit, I kept five feet separating us at all times.

  No. And I’ll do what I have to do to survive, whatever that is, and when enough of us come together for an uprising, I’ll make it out of here. I will, and I’ll make it back home. You’re a tiger, Rosie! You can do this! Feeling mighty proud of my new attitude, however long that lasted, I gave a mental fist pump. Take that fly! Rawr!

  CHAPTER 7

  We stopped in front of a hut with basket after basket lined up in front of it. “Here,” the Zoo beast grumbled, raising a thick fist to thump on the heavy, wooden front door.

  We stood there for a moment as no one answered, a dim light shining out from the huge, round cut stones smoothed and shaped to make up the window.

  “Thump loud,” he explained, thudding harder. He thumped until the hut house shook.

  Still no answer.

  Soon I found myself frowning along with the orange-eyed beast, wondering what could be taking my new pseudo soon-to-be mate so long. “Is he at the barbeque still, do you think?”

  “Barback-you?”

  “You know, the spit thing...? The roast? And that is an animal, right?” My mouth went dry as I trailed off on a mumble, a short, flat laugh escaping me. “Not, uh, heh-heh, a difficult person? Persons. A, like, person who refused to mate or something?”

  The orange-eyed beast’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, the oddest look on his face, when heavy footsteps suddenly began, fast approaching from off to our side.

  Head cocking, lips moving, about to speak, the beast’s gaze whipped over my head, his eyes glimmering as familiar muttering reached my ears.

  “Tokre,” the Zoo beast greeted, inclining his head at Tokre. There was a smile in his eyes, affection clear as the skin crinkled at the corners. I got the distinct impression this Zhurberber was fond of Tokre, despite having just told me he thought Tokre broken. Then the orange-eyed beast glanced at me and those smiling eyes fell, replaced with a shot of worry. Worry for Tokre? Or worry for me, I wondered.

 

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