The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3)

by Poppy Rhys

  Once inside, the other Yarian’s -Roki and Nik- pulled up the plank and sealed the door.

  A chill swept over her skin as her eyes roved about the cargo bay.

  It seemed emptier than she imagined it would be. Very few crates scattered along the dull, marked up metal floor, its shine lost long ago. The walls were just as dingy, making the craft look old.

  She allowed herself to be lead toward the stairs that clanged below the weight of three aliens, her slipper clad feet barely making any noise in comparison.

  To her surprise, the bridge was clean, polished, and like new, from the floors to the controls. It was completely at odds with the outside, and the cargo hold.

  The entire time, the three Yarian’s yammered away at each other, talking as if they had so much to catch up on. She supposed they did.

  After a few more words, all eyes landed on her.

  Hunter said something after a moments hesitation, still all in a language she didn’t understand. While she had a decent update on her implanted translator, she only had the predominant languages of the trade planets programmed in.

  At that particular moment, she was really wishing she’d paid for the registered merchant languages too. Anyone who did business on the trade planets had to submit their spoken language. It made commerce easier if they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, speak the three trade languages.

  “What?” she scowled, crossing her arms over her chest, lifting her chin.

  The word ‘Mi’ska’ stood out to her, as it seemed to draw a scrutinizing eye from Roki and Nik, though she couldn’t remember who was who. And then Hunter traced her jawline with his fingertips now that it was bare after she’d pulled off her head covering.

  She smacked his hand away, glaring.

  Hostility. Desire. The alien’s lavender eyes swam with both.

  His friends snickered.

  “When are we leaving for Dor Nye?” she asked, smoothing the stray hairs that the head covering let loose from her braid.

  Fin couldn’t wait to be home, and forget about her short stint as a criminal.

  He looked back to his two friends, said something quickly, and then gestured for her to follow.

  Fin’s brow wrinkled, her eyes darting skeptically toward Hunter’s tribesman before she decided she’d rather follow the green man that she sort of knew, than stay behind with the two she just met.

  Two brightly lit hallways they passed through until he was ushering her into a cabin.

  A thin cot upon a metal frame lay against the furthest side, a matching table and chairs with old, flattened cushions on the other. Everything was bolted down.

  “You can rest here while the ship is prepared,” he said coldly, taking another look around the cabin. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Then he was gone.

  Finley glanced about the quiet, sterile room, her fingers gingerly touching her neck. The stitches felt foreign, the skin swollen, and tight.

  Once she was back on Dor Nye, she would go see a doctor, get it properly checked out. The last thing she wanted was an infection.

  The ship vibrated beneath her feet, the engines announcing their presence.

  Normally she’d be on a shuttle, strapped in for this part, but there were no seats with belts in the cabin.

  She quickly made her way to the bed, sitting down and closing her fingers over the edge.

  She hated take off.

  That queasy flutter made its way through her stomach when the ship began ascending. Crawling at first, picking up speed as it prepared to break atmosphere.

  She knew the moment they’d entered space, as gravity became no more, and she felt her body become weightless. The disconcerting feeling of having no sense of up or down, except by looking at the bolted down objects around, washed over her.

  The intercoms buzzed with the same language the Yarian’s were speaking.

  Slowly, she felt her body begin to gain a sense of heft.

  It must’ve been the announcement for false gravity initiation, because in a few more seconds, she was back to normal and unclenching her fingers from the cots cold frame.

  The door slid open, Hunter emerging with a syringe in his hand.

  He moved toward her with purpose, causing her to jolt to her feet.

  “No!” she yelled, slamming herself into the nearest corner, but it was useless.

  His fingers curled around her upper arm, and despite her yanking limbs and wailing hands, he was able to pull her from the corner and wrap an arm around her body without even making a sound.

  “You son of a bitch!”

  She screamed again just as she felt the sting of the needle slide into her neck.

  Almost instantly her vision clouded black along her peripherals, muscles turning into jelly as she sagged back against him, and the world faded into oblivion.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hunter’s dissecting eyes traveled the naked body of the human female as she laid upon an examination table in the ships small medical bay.

  A sneering slant twisted his mouth. It couldn’t be helped.

  This creature was below him in nearly every way. Her inferiority annoyed him.

  Her body, fragile, petite, even though she appeared to be of average height for her gender and species according to the little research he’d read about humans the night before.

  He begrudgingly still had much to learn about them.

  Therran’s, they were often referred to, due to their planet of origin. She was the first human he’d been around, touched, conversed with, in his life. Never in his captivity had a human client picked him, though he never really cared.

  Knowing now how flimsy they were, it was probably for the best. Accidentally breaking a human would’ve resulted in his death.

  His fingertips grazed the smooth, pale-beige colored skin of her arm. It was marred by bruises in the shape of his hand. They matched the blue patches along her hips.

  A muscle in his cheek twitched. If he wasn’t careful, he really would destroy her.

  His lip curled, his tongue rubbing along the point of his fang.

  If he wasn’t so bent on keeping what was his, what rightfully belonged to him, he would’ve left her. Maybe he should have. Eventually, the Guard would’ve snatched her up, getting rid of his problem for him.

  Could he stand to be alone for the rest of his life?

  “Do you often growl while watching your mate?”

  Hunter slid his gaze to Roki.

  He didn’t realize he was growling.

  It had been two days since their port escape, and he was preparing the humans body for stasis.

  She slept soundly as it was, but there was another six weeks to their journey. He knew waking her would only cause further confusion, and fear.

  Which would entail bouts of emotional outbursts, certainly.

  No, he didn’t want to deal with that for six weeks.

  Regardless, it was tradition to use stasis when a Shu’Lee captured his chosen so the bond between them could begin to form once they were on Yari.

  Though he had not truly captured her, and so many things had gone sideways since he met her, it was time he start abiding by tradition.

  Lest he be completely forsaken by Leeshi.

  Why me?

  “Look how dinky she is,” Roki said to Nik. “She’ll die in the rut.”

  “Why did he pick a human?” Nik asked innocently, truly puzzled. “Why a female from Dor Nye when there are many other appealing species? Goshin, or even Lup’de come to mind.”

  “Kre’in females,” Roki added, speaking of a purple skinned race widely known for their sexual dexterity. “That would be my pick.”

  They both shared an appreciative grunt.

  “The scans say she is compatible,” Nik observed the panel next to the table.

  There were no records of a Shu’Lee picking a human mate, written or otherwise.

  Unsurprising.

  They didn’t have many mastered skills to speak of compared to
other races, but he noticed they dabbled in a bit of everything. Technology, battle, knowledge, science, music.

  He was definitely being punished.

  “The scans cannot determine if she will survive the rut,” Roki frowned, lifting the limp left hand of the sleeping human. “You will kill her, and then you will walk the ground alone until you die because you have wasted your choice on a female who isn’t strong enough.”

  He scowled, knowing full well mishk could be hard on females of his own race, and they were much less fragile in all ways than the one that lay before him.

  “I agree,” Nik said, conflicted. “We still have time to put her back, and find you another-”

  “No.”

  “How will she even carry your offspring?” Nik continued.

  “Offspring?” Rokie snorted. “How will he seed her if his cock cannot-”

  “Cease. Speaking.”

  They regarded him warily.

  “I am only stating truth, and you know it.”

  All eyes turned to the triangular patch of black curls between the female’s pale thighs.

  “She already survived mishk,” Hunter said distractedly, rebuking Roki’s crude assumption and interrupting any further reasoning from Nik.

  Two choked gasps.

  “You-” Roki stumbled. “That’s impossible. There has been no joining ceremony blessed by the Tishani.”

  Hunter slid his eyes their way, a sour taste on his tongue.

  He should’ve kept his mouth shut, and let Roki continue thinking Finley wouldn’t survive. Now he stared at his two friends, their confusion evident upon their faces.

  He brushed aside her thick hair, the midnight locks crimped with waves from the braid he’d undone, to reveal her neck.

  Their reactions were appropriate. And irritating.

  Sanctimonious bastards.

  “I’m not proud of what’s happened,” his gaze raked over the human’s face. “Many things have gone wrong since my time on Vishik.”

  He would catch them up later, or not. Hadn’t decided yet if he would divulge his business of the last five terms.

  The sour thought that they might have a point about the girl roiled in his stomach.

  Maybe Finley wasn’t compatible for him, despite every fiber of his core telling him she was his. And he was possessive of what belonged to him, regardless of how insignificant.

  “Stop looking,” he snapped his teeth, covering up her body.

  ****

  A languid sigh passed Finley’s lips, her body rolling over and snuggling deeper under the extremely plush covers. Her body felt positively limber, so comfortable and rested, more so than she ever remembered feeling.

  That sense of waking began blossoming in her brain, senses coming fully alive as her legs stretched, and muscles twitched back to life.

  Her eyelids cracked open, light shining through, vision blurry and swimming with colors.

  The chilling squawk of a giant bird pierced the air, jolting Finley upright.

  Her fingers quickly pushed clinging strands of hair from her face before she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked repeatedly to wash the blur away.

  The fine hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end as her head whipped to and fro, up and down, taking in her surroundings.

  Her mouth hung agape, the wiring of her mind trying to make sense of what she was seeing, if she was dreaming, if she was truly awake, or hallucinating.

  She sat on a round, elevated bed covered in… animal skins and furs.

  Her chest rose and fell quickly, her tongue wetting her lips as the all too familiar chest pangs of panic set in.

  Where was she?

  The four walls of the enclosure were made up of small, stacked trees, the white bark still intact. They were held together by some kind of dirt paste. There was a door to her right, and a glassless window with a propped up hatch to her left.

  Finley quickly scrambled from the bed, her bare feet landing on a brown, braided reed mat. Her dark eyes looked down, noticing she had nothing on except a soft hide loincloth.

  Her arms instinctively wrapped over her chest, covering herself as she hurried to the door.

  She pushed it open, her mouth parting further as her eyes grew in size.

  “Oh, son of a bitch,” Finley breathed, stepping onto the indigo grass outside of the small cabin.

  She spun in a circle, looking all around her at the jungle she was in.

  Sounds of wildlife could be heard in every direction, hidden within the thick foliage surrounding the structure. A white fog crept along the jungle floor, making it nearly impossible to see far beyond the small clearing. Thick green and yellow vines hung from the soaring trees, their twisting, intertwining branches giving off a ghostly shadow beyond the mist.

  The air hung heavy with the scent of wet leaves, and freshly turned soil. It clogged her throat and filled her lungs.

  A twig snapped.

  Finley whirled to face the direction she thought it came from.

  Another snap.

  A bush began to quake.

  That’s when Finley realized how stupid she’d been to run willy-nilly out the front door when she had no fucking clue where the hell she was.

  A large beast emerged, its hairy back nearly reaching her chest in height.

  Its large, serrated teeth could be seen underneath its black gums in its elongated snout. It was covered in wiry blue and pink fur, its pointed ears laying flat back on its head when its double-pupiled turquoise eyes landed on Finley.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she mumbled under her breath, taking a step back before she realized that was probably a terrible idea.

  The beast noticed this, its eyes narrowing in on her.

  Run.

  Finley took another step back, spinning on her heel and booking it in the opposite direction.

  Plants whipped her body like stinging lashes upon every surface of her skin as she flew through the foliage as fast as her feet would take her.

  She could feel the sharp sting of hair being pulled from her scalp as strands got caught up in branches, thorny bushes, and vines.

  The beast roared.

  Finley was on the verge of hyperventilating, the sheer terror of being chased sucking the oxygen from her lungs like a bloodthirsty leech.

  The creature’s heavy footfalls were loud enough to be heard over her wheezing, the flood of blood in her ears, the slashing and shaking of the foliage she tore through, and her fear reached its boiling point.

  Her lungs expelled a bloodcurdling scream that ripped up her throat and out into the jungle.

  A large flock of birds took flight from a tree nearest to her at the sound of her shrieking. Blindly she ran, hands extended in a half crazed attempt to stop herself from running into anything solid.

  Thick leaves slapped her in the face, her bare feet pounded the ground, the twigs, burrs, and pebbles barely registering in her one track mind.

  Run, repeated in her brain. Run, run, run.

  A new sound bombarded her as she ran around a thick tree, nearly tripping over the gnarly roots protruding from the earth. The air whistled above her as something flew through it, getting ever closer.

  Before Finley had a second to look behind her, she felt her body being lifted.

  Another scream ripped from her throat as her legs continued to work, feet landing on nothing but air.

  She felt an arm gripping her middle.

  Finley turned her frantic gaze upward, landing on him.

  The alien from Carnal Bazaar. Hunter. The one who abducted her.

  She screamed again, kicking, and beating her fists against him. Her stomach lurched as he let go of the vine he was swinging on and jumped, grasping another as they swooped through the jungle.

  “Put me down!” she yelled, “put me down!”

  There was a break in the mist, and as the alien began to descend toward the ground, the beast came into view again the lower they got.

  “No! Never mind! Nev
er mind!” she shrieked, wrapping her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist as she clung to him like velcro.

  There’s no way this fucker is peeling me off!

  The alien obliged, jumping vines over and over again now that both his hands were free.

  She held on for dear life, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t think about the fifty-foot drop below. Each jump he made, her stomach would flip up into her throat before tumbling back down to where it belonged.

  “Oh god, oh god,” she chanted into the side of his neck, her fingernails digging into his back and shoulders while her heart thump-thumped through her entire body.

  A branch near them shook, leaves spraying down over their heads. She opened her eyes just in time to see him snatch a large red fruit from it as they swung by its bearing tree.

  More spine tingling surges as he leapt another two vines, and then they were winding downward. A jolt went through her body as his feet hit the ground silently.

  Finley brushed her frizzed, twig and leaf laden hair from her face haphazardly, breathing hard and looking all around her for the beast.

  The predator was no longer nearby that she could tell, so she untangled herself from Hunter’s massive, hard body.

  Her feet touched the soft, cool indigo grass and she quickly backed away from the alien.

  He smiled at her, baring his sharp teeth. Those fang-like ivory weapons unsettling her already tortured stomach.

  Anything that went in wasn’t coming out whole, but in ribbons.

  What was more unsettling, was that he was smiling. It looked more like a toothy smirk, to be frank.

  Evil.

  He was back to wearing only his loincloth, and set against the dangling vines and jungle flora, he fit the scenery like a perfect puzzle piece.

  His wild, gold streaked black hair was windswept, and provocatively messy. As if he’d just finished a rigorous bout of steamy sex.

  Her abdomen twisted.

  Finley shivered, an uncontrollable memory of his animalistic, raw, sexual groan during their first night echoing through her ears like a ghostly tune before she could stop it.

  Pinch! I must be twisted.

  Remembering she was half naked, she folded her arms over her chest once more, gaining a curious look from the alien.