by Poppy Rhys
He made a satisfied grunt deep in his chest and her eyes burned, her knuckles itching with the strange ache to punch him.
Finley scrunched her nose a few times as his odor became more potent while he held her. That smoky, fresh scent seeping into the tissues of her respiratory system. Much to her annoyance, she found it pleasant.
She wished he stunk. It would make staying angry easier. Nothing aided one’s own fury like bad odors.
“Six weeks,” he finally responded once he began walking.
“Six weeks?” Her mouth hung agape, her heart stuttered in her chest, and her mind went flying, racing, yet blank all at once.
“You were in stasis,” he went on. “It’s tradition.”
“Tradition?” she latched onto a word, her brain finally catching up. “What tradition?”
“Shu’Lee tradition.”
His thumb brushed the skin on the side of her knee where he held her, the touch too familiar, making her nerves tingle and her thoughts veer into left field.
She had so many questions, so many things she needed explained to her, but she couldn’t think of the words to form proper sentences while he held her, while his skin was all she could smell.
Finley would wait. She’d grill him when she could think straight.
Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do.
Her gaze wandered at the atmosphere around her since she had nothing better to do. Everything seemed massively oversized, from the trees that soared hundreds of feet above them to the gnats that sounded like small motors as they buzzed by.
She felt as if they were miniature toys walking through a life sized planet model.
Finley watched as pink skinned creatures scurried up the trunk of a colossal tree. She couldn’t even see where it reached, as its canopy disappeared into the mist above.
Two yellow eyed, red furred mammals howled back and forth to each other in the tree above them as they passed under its branches. They continued their yammering as they watched them walk by.
That’s when Finley realized she had both arms wrapped around Hunter’s neck, her chest smooshed against his while she got caught up in her examination of the alien planet.
She quickly righted herself, arm going right back over her chest.
His lips pulled into a smug grin as if he’d one-up’d her somehow.
“Pervert,” she mumbled under her breath, even though she found herself enjoying the strange sorta-smile. It was better than all the scowling and black looks he floated her way.
He ducked through a tunnel between two bright orange, long leafed bushes, and once on the other side, a clear blue lagoon fed by a small stream came into view.
She could see straight to the bottom where colorful plants provided hiding spots for the white fish that zoomed to and fro. It couldn’t be much more than four feet at its deepest.
Hunter sat her down on a small slab of rock, holding up his hand, silently commanding her to stay put. Fin’s lip twitched with displeasure as she watched him disappear back into the jungle.
Her eyes slid around the sides of the lagoon as she waited. When the minutes ticked by and she began to worry when he was going to come back, he reappeared with his hands full.
“What is that?”
He sat down a large cupped leaf with a sticky pink sap inside.
“Kiklo.” His fingers wrapped over her ankle and slowly lowered her foot into the cool water. “It will help heal you, and keep the wound from infection.”
Finley winced, the tiny cut stinging momentarily when he gently began washing the dirt and small bit of blood away. When he pulled her foot from the water and began applying the healing sap, her eyes strayed to the rest of him.
She wondered what he did for a living, if he had a job to go back to now that he was home. Were there jobs on Yari?
It had been a long time since she’d read anything on the YutYut Galaxy. She was still in school, if she remembered correctly. An electoral credit about distant cultures she snatched at the last minute to meet a requirement, not a subject she was truly interested in.
They had to be technologically advanced though, because Hunter’s friends had a cargo ship, albeit old and rickety looking. Finley remembered this very clearly.
Her minds eye replayed the events leading up to the needle being stuck in her neck. She wondered if she’d ever see her home again, her family, her friends.
She had to convince him to take her back.
He continued to cover her toe with a small leaf, wrapping it up with a long strip of some kind of green plant. He expertly tucked the end under, like a doctor might with a gauze wrap. Already her toe felt better.
His fingers stroked the soft skin on the inside of her ankle.
“Why me?” she hummed. “You could’ve taken anyone.”
Hunter looked at her then, his gaze narrowing in on her neck and morphing into one of loathing.
She could spot that emotion a mile away. It was one of maybe five expressions the alien seemed to be able to display. Emphasis on maybe. He was in a perpetual state of emotional constipation.
Then, as if he swallowed a sour gummy, he uttered, “Mi’ska…”
“Why do you keep saying that word?”
He shoved off the rock, ignoring her and wading into the water.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I hope they have anger management meetings on this backward planet,” she mumbled.
“Because you are one angry barbarian.”
He stopped suddenly, unholy rage morphing his face.
Oops. Did I say that out loud?
Once he turned back around and continued to lead her to the camp, wherever that was, she let out a small sigh.
Keep it together, Fin.
The walk back to the cabin was a little agonizing. Although she’d washed her other foot herself and cleansed her face, she felt grimy after the events of the day. Finley was hungry and exhausted, but she didn’t say anything. The last thing she wanted was the alien to carry her again.
“Tell me this is just a joke,” she said to the alien’s back as they trudged on. “You’re pulling my leg, right? We’ve just stopped off on some random planet to pick up a shipment of goods from the locals, yeah?”
No response.
“Hunter!”
“Cease your yammering,” he sighed wearily. “I do not joke. This is Yari. Our home.”
“Your home. Not mine. Are you deaf and angry?”
Unintelligible grumbling.
“That word,” Fin began, trying to sound it out. “Mi’ska. What’s it mean? Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It’s what you are to me,” he replied, sounding none too enthused. “My Mi’ska.”
“But what does it mean?” She didn’t like the way it sounded so possessive, so final. That he implied she belonged to him, or anyone. Finley was her own person, an individual. She belonged to no one.
“It means you are the mate of a Shu’Lee.”
“Shu’Lee?” Every time he opened his mouth, she ended up with more questions than answers.
She startled.
“Wait, what? Mate?”
Her brain went into a state of error, the wiring of her mind lighting on fire and frying.
“Yes, mate.” He sounded so casual, as if she was asking questions that bored him. He was the fatigued teacher, she the confused student. “And I am Shu’Lee.”
Again with the vague answers.
No wonder he’d been all but hiking his leg on her earlier, with all that barking of ‘mine’ this and ‘mine’ that.
More and more questions piled up inside her brain, and it was becoming harder and harder to think and walk at the same time.
Maybe Hunter was right. She didn’t walk and talk very ‘good’. At least not through a jungle. She paused her interrogation in order to focus on staying upright.
They reached the camp just as the dark orange sun was setting. It cast a warm glow through parts of the jungle where it was able to pierce thro
ugh the thick foliage.
The fog was rolling back in as the night approached, adding to the ominous feeling that made her ride Hunter’s heals the last few minutes before they reached the cabin. The idea of something grabbing at her feet and dragging her off into the dark spooked her.
She’d watched too many horror vids from Dor Nye’s capital, it seemed.
The alien laid the two fish he’d caught barehanded from the lagoon on the ground, and began stacking up the small fire that sat away from the cabin. When the orange and blue flames flickered back to life, Finley got close and sat on the ground.
The humidity and heat of the day was disappearing, slowly getting colder with each fading ray of sunlight. By the time Hunter was skewering the fish and propping them over the fire, goosebumps were spreading down her arms. Her fingers and toes began to feel cold first, as they usually did back home in Dranza.
“Are you cold?” he inquired a little while later, once it was fully dark and only the fire lit the small clearing.
“I’ll be fine,” she mumbled, eyeing the cooking fish. When he didn’t say anything further, her gaze flicked to him as he sat crouched down, arms draped over his knees, watching her from the other side of the fire. “It’s rude to stare.”
That did nothing, as he just continued to stare. That possessive, soul searing stare.
“When’s the next shuttle to Dor Nye?”
Fin could hope.
He didn’t respond, opting to turn the skewered fish over instead.
She sighed.
“What is it you want from me? You’re just going to use me as some kind of breeding stock?” she asked, voice incredulous. “I’m a human being! I have rights! I-I have a choice,” she fumed, angry she tended to stumble over her words when she got flustered.
“I won’t use you,” he responded, his expression weary, indulgent. “I fought for you. I became a Shu’Lee to find you. And now that I have, I hoped to live out my days in peace.”
Don’t say it. Don’t go there!
“I fear peace is something foreign to one such as you.”
He went there.
“You’re a rude son of a b-”
“Careful, human,” he warned, those piercing eyes skewering her.
She sighed, dropping her head into the palm of her hands as she scrubbed her face, willing herself to refrain from jumping over the fire like a wild animal and clawing at the soft tissues of his eyes.
“You’re taking away my choice. I didn’t ask for any of this,” she swung her arm out over the clearing. “You just took without asking.”
He seemed unconcerned. Fin wasn’t sure if it pissed her off more that he was so ho-hum about her distress, or at the possibility of being stuck in a fucking jungle.
Silence reigned down upon them for a long while.
When the fish was done, she watched as he dished it up onto two large, thick leaves and sliced up a yellow vegetable to go with it. At least, that’s what she assumed it was, because it didn’t taste sweet like a fruit might.
The fish was heavy, its white meat thick and a little chewy, but it tasted superb. Finley couldn’t tell if it was actually good, or if she was just starving, but she ate it all, leaving nothing but the bones and skin.
When Hunter passed a large pouch to her, she drank the cool water it held to wash everything down.
“You should sleep,” he nodded toward the cabin. “We leave tomorrow.”
Her brows knit together, hope sneaking its way into her bones and past her better judgement. “Where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
“Dor Nye?” she hedged, despite all common sense heading toward a letdown. “You’re taking me back to Dor Nye?”
“Tribe home. Our home,” he shook his head.
Finley’s heart dropped into her stomach as she angrily shot to her feet, turning and quickly walking to the cabin. She opened the door only to slam it as best she could behind her. Maybe that was juvenile, but she was so livid she was shaking.
She blinked back the sting in her eyes multiple times, but it didn’t work. Salty tears wobbled on the rims and blurred her vision.
No.
She would not cry. She was too proud to cry. Too stubborn. Fin wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Hurriedly rubbing her eyes, she cleared her throat, held her chin high, and then climbed onto the round, hide covered bed.
It all really hit home at that point.
Finley didn’t know if she would ever see Dranza again, or anyone she loved. She didn’t know how she would survive on an alien planet living like a backward savage with no proper clothing, and possibly being forced to produce younglings like some kind of owned animal.
Her fingers twisted the silver leafed ring upon her index finger, the only reminder she had left of Dor Nye, of her old life. Sadly, she was grateful Hunter let her keep it, or forgot to remove it, either way.
She bit her bottom lip, holding back the frustrated scream, before she willed herself to sleep.
****
Hunter sat in silence, staring at the flames until they died down to small embers. It had been a couple hours since the female stormed into the cabin. He knew she was upset, but he reminded himself this was a normal reaction.
And also, that he didn’t care.
The Tishani said this would happen. He trusted him.
His people had been participating in Shuluh since The Great Rebirth, many, many generations ago. Hunter just had to trust the past, trust his elders, trust the Shuluh.
The human would see reason. And if not, oh well. She still belonged to him.
Even six weeks of stewing over his mistake, he had a hard time accepting his current situation. It was hard for Hunter to imagine his life with one such as her, and the bond they were supposed to be forming.
To her, it was only yesterday she was fighting to get home.
Leeshi, he hoped he didn’t have to deal with another month and a half of the human coming to terms with her new life with him. He wasn’t sure he had the patience for that.
He had six weeks’ worth of pent up seed to release, and she was the only one who could remedy that.
Frustrated, he stood and grabbed the nearby bucket of sand to dump it over the remaining embers. He took strides to the cabin, quietly entering the structure.
His eyes adjusted to the dark atmosphere, gaze narrowing in on the female. She was shivering atop the furs in her sleep.
Hunter sighed heavily. Humans.
His hands gripped a hide at the end of the bed, pulling it up and over her small form before he laid down beside her.
It irked him that she was so fragile. She got cold easily, tired quickly, and needed more water and food than he anticipated. The modern conveniences of her people had made her soft.
Instead of walking long distances, they used transports. They didn’t hunt and gather their own food, but purchased from markets and had it delivered. They used cooling and heating systems to adjust their body temperatures.
Through eons of evolution, his people could weather temperatures of Yari with ease. Cool quickly with minimal shade, and store heat through the cold nights.
Finley’s body couldn’t accomplish this efficiently.
Hunter would have to figure something out so she didn’t die on him.
The shrieking of the lo’keen cut through the night, their calls sounding like the high pitched wailing of a female. On the second scream, Finley jolted awake, breathing heavily and pulling at the hide that covered her.
“You will not be harmed,” he sighed.
“What is that?” she whispered shakily.
“Lo’keen. Night scavenger.”
“What if they get in?”
His skin prickled, insulted that she would doubt his ability to protect her.
“Too cautious. They won’t come near,” he finally bit out.
The lo’keen looked and sounded fierce, but they were not hunters. They scavenged like large birds, eating the scraps ot
her predators left. Lo’keen would never venture into a camp or attack unless backed into a corner.
Hunter didn’t think she believed him entirely.
She slowly laid back down, and while she put her back to him, he noticed she inched closer until her body was against his side.
The contact only made him think about dragging her body on top of his, and impaling her with his cock, which had already begun to rise with the nearness of his mate.
He cursed the willful organ, and closed his eyes.
The next he woke, the dawning light of a new morning washed the cabin in a hazy blue. The sun had yet to break. The peaceful time when the creatures of Yari were coming to life, preparing for a new day.
His arm was draped over the human, his leg over both of hers, and she was tucked against him while they both lay on their sides.
She faced him, her breasts against his skin, her head resting just under his chin, and her nails gently kneading his chest.
They fit together so perfectly, like two halves of a whole.
Annoyance coursed through his blood, and he removed himself from around her, slowly, so as not to wake the human and bring about some emotional outburst. Like this was his fault.
She whimpered in her sleep, as if mourning the loss of contact, like his body seemed to do.
He shook himself and picked a stray leaf from his face. No doubt from her ratty hair.
Outstretching a hand to shake her awake once he was standing, he hesitated, stopped. She looked peaceful.
Waking her would only mean more grumbling, no doubt. Take me home, she would demand, most likely adding some insult on the end of that.
No. Hunter would let her sleep. If only just to give himself a few more minutes of peace.
****
When the first rays of light began filtering in through the cabins small, glassless window, Finley stirred awake. Almost immediately memories of the night and the terrifying screeching of what Hunter called a night scavenger surfaced to the front of her mind.
When she slowly sat up, her eyes slid around the single room, noticing she was once again alone.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about Hunter sleeping beside her through the night. There were mixed feelings. Finley was glad he’d been close when those awful screams woke her up, but he was still a kidnapper.