Bound to the Alien Barbarian: An Alien Warrior Romance (Crashland Castaway Romance Book 1)

by Leslie Chase

  As soon as those eyes turned away from me, my brain started working again, turning over possibilities. Though right now I didn’t see how any of my ideas would work out in my favor. Could I escape? And did I want to?

  Pinned under the firm, distracting pressure of his solid body, I decided it was impossible to get away. Which conveniently stopped me from having to answer the second question. I relaxed, working hard to steady my breathing, trying to make my surrender clear with body language.

  Giving in to him made my heart race even faster and I drew in a ragged breath as my alien captor rose to his feet, lifting me with him.

  “Ssava kossaz m’brin,” he said, setting me down and letting go. As soon as he released me I missed his touch, but I wouldn’t complain about being set free. I backed away a few steps, testing. He moved with me, keeping a precise distance, saying something else incomprehensible. I don’t know what I’d expected him to sound like, but it wasn’t the low rumbling growl that sent a shiver down my spine.

  I took another step and backed into a tree. Again he stepped forward, trapping me against the rubbery trunk, but he came no closer. My breathing sped up, my brain slowed down, and the look in the alien’s gleaming eyes paralyzed me.

  It wasn’t hostile, and in some ways that made it worse. He was interested, curious, and hungry. Looking me up and down with a laser focus, as though committing my body to memory. I knew that look, had seen variants of it too often on the faces of men back on Earth — and on Fanwell’s, more recently.

  Unlike most of them, it didn’t make my skin crawl. Instead, a warm tingling sensation followed his gaze and butterflies took wing in my stomach.

  Tessa. Stop admiring the alien. I tried to be stern with myself, but it wasn’t easy. Despite his inhuman features, I’d never seen a man more desirable. That would have horrified Mother if she knew.

  I swallowed, forced myself to think about something else. Focus on the positive. He hadn’t killed me when he had me pinned and helpless, he wasn’t attacking, and I’d started the fight, so… maybe he was friendly?

  The bulge under his kilt hinted that he was extremely friendly. I dragged my eyes up to his face with an effort, noticing that the purple patterns on his skin had changed and gotten stronger. Okay. Time to make first contact history.

  “Hello,” I said, speaking in Galtrade, the closest thing to a common tongue out among the stars. It was also the only non-human language I spoke fluently, despite all the books I’d stored in Kitty’s databanks. “My name is Tessa Ward. Can you understand me?”

  He hissed, a long and dexterous tongue darting out between his lips. I caught myself wondering what it might feel like on my skin and my blush deepened. He didn’t answer my question, though, not unless that hiss meant something in his language.

  Disappointing but not surprising. The alien’s clothing and equipment were made of natural materials, obviously handmade with impressive skill. That implied either a pre-industrial tech base or a luxury item. Neither were the kind of thing a space traveler would be likely to wear on a walk in the woods, but it had been worth a try.

  This was the closest I’d come to an alien, and just my luck, we didn’t have a language in common. I’d always wanted to speak to one, but few settled on Earth. Still, I’d read enough to check him off against the aliens in this volume of space. Not an Akedian, he was tall enough but they were spindle-thin. Not Prell, he had the muscles but they were shorter than me.

  And not Prytheen, either: his legs were wrong, and they didn’t have tails. Thank goodness. I didn’t know much about them other than that they’d shot down the Wandering Star and stranded us here, but they had to be bad news.

  “I am Tessa,” I tried again, slow and loud and futile. Stupid — how would shouting help? I pointed at my chest and repeated myself. Gestures had to work better than volume.

  “Vird Zarkav zek,” he growled back, and if part of that was his name, I didn’t know which part. Hearing him talk was reward enough, though. That voice, rough and hard and dangerously sexy, did things to my body that I wasn’t used to.

  His tongue darted out again and I remembered reading that snakes smell with their tongue. Could he taste my arousal on the air? The thought made me want to curl up and die from embarrassment.

  But his eyes left me for the first time, darting up. And with a movement too fast for me to see, he pounced on me.

  I managed a strangled squeak of protest as his hand closed on my arm, throwing me aside onto the hard ground. Just in time — something dropped out of the tree onto him, something dark and dangerous. As far as I could see it was made of claws and teeth and death.

  If he hadn’t moved me, it would have dropped on my head. I swallowed, terrified, and scrambled back, searching the undergrowth in desperation — there! My hand closed on the field-cutter’s handle, but I didn’t want to risk going anywhere near the deadly ball of teeth and fur that had tried to attack me.

  My alien savior fell to the ground under the assault, giving as good as he got. Blood sprayed and I didn’t know whose it was. The ambushing monster was perhaps five foot long, had six limbs, and attacked with a vicious fury.

  This is your chance, Tessa. He’s distracted that thing — take advantage of it and run. My mother’s voice again, giving me self-serving advice as usual.

  Nope. Not today. I’d run away enough, I wouldn’t abandon this alien to die saving me. Hoping that the field-cutter still had enough charge, I stepped closer and thumbed it on.

  The beast looked up at me, eyes glinting, and I swung with a shaking hand. The shimmering forcefield passed through its neck, severing it neatly. I didn’t even feel the impact.

  Okay. Picked a good weapon, I guess. I wanted to throw up as the headless body fell to the side, blood spraying everywhere. The alien warrior beneath it blinked in surprise before rolling to his feet. He was all power and grace compared to my fumbling clumsiness, but his claws had barely penetrated the animal’s hide.

  “Kzor,” he hissed, looking at the body. A curse, the name of the species, a prayer for the dead? I didn’t know.

  Turning to me, he growl-hissed a string of what I assumed were words. I almost laughed when I realized he’d slowed his speech and raised his volume, just as I had earlier and with equal success.

  I didn’t dare let the laugh out, though. If I started, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop. The body of the animal I’d killed twitched and spasmed, strange black blood spurting, and my entire body trembled.

  The field-cutter shook too, the deadly blade twitching up and down, and I couldn’t make myself release the power switch. My alien rescuer kept speaking, but I heard none of it and I wouldn’t have understood it if I had. With gentle care he took the cutter from my grip and took my arm.

  Movement. Rustling in the trees overhead, more of those things, lots more from the sound of it. The alien gave up on words, lifting me and throwing me over his shoulder as though I weighed nothing. Without pausing he set off at a sprint into the dark forest.

  The suddenness of it broke through my panic and I screamed again, flailing at his broad back with my fists. Pointless and stupid — no chance I’d free myself from his grip and even if I did, that would just drop me for the animals to eat.

  For now, I was stuck with him.

  8

  Zarkav

  The female struggled as I ran, but it didn’t matter. Without her magic weapon she was no match for my strength, and I had no way to tell her I was taking her to safety.

  Leaving the kzor territory behind us, I searched for hunters’ signs left in the forest. They should be easy to find, but everything looked different tonight. The heavy sense of dread grew again as I ran, and the squirming of the alien over my shoulder was distracting in the best way. Between them, my focus wasn’t at its best.

  Not now, fool, I snarled at myself. Soon we’ll be underground, safe, hidden. Then you can think about what to do with her.

  What I wanted to do was simple and obvious. My body ach
ed for her, needed her, and if it weren’t for the predators who’d attack us, I’d have thrown her to the ground and taken her. The fire in my soul burned hot enough to overwhelm my judgement, but I refused to risk her life.

  No matter how much I hated to wait, how much I wanted to pin her down and… Stop that. You don’t even know that your bodies will fit.

  Despite what reason told me, I did know. We would be compatible, I felt in with a bone deep certainty reserved for very few, very important truths.

  The hunter’s marking carved into a tree trunk gave me something else to focus on, and I slowed to watch for more. No sign of kzor pursuit, they wouldn’t stray far from their territory. So no need to keep running.

  Slowing to a walk gave my passenger a chance to catch her breath and speak in her strange, alien language. I frowned at that. She might not be Sky People, but she came from the sky; why did she not speak the Sky Tongue?

  The Elder would doubtless say it was because she was a demon, but I refused to believe it. Aside from the fear-magic she wielded there was nothing of the demonic about her.

  Perhaps there are as many sky tribes as there are Zrin tribes? And as many languages? I shook my head. Not a question I’d answer here and now.

  The marks led me to an outcropping of rocks, and a welcome cave beneath. A wooden door sealed it shut, markings identifying it as a Temple Tribe refuge. Come winter, the hunters would make use of this cave and others like it as a shelter and waypoint, and by ancient tradition we kept it well stocked with supplies. In an emergency, hunters from any tribe might seek safety within, so no hunter minded contributing.

  Not the most comfortable dwelling, but it would serve while I decided what to do with the beautiful not-Zrin I’d caught. I untied the knot that sealed it and carried my squirming burden inside.

  Shelves stacked with supplies towered over us. Enough food to last for seasons or even years, firewood, a few simple cooking utensils, medical herbs, all in a cave meant for six Zrin hunters. That gave the two of us plenty of space. I set my companion down carefully on a sleeping mat and turned to secure the door, tying it shut on the inside. Any Zrin that came this way would see it was in use and make themselves known.

  “Who are you, little one?” I asked my captive, turning to look at her. A globe filled with glow-fungus rested in a wall nook, lighting the chamber with a soft glow. That let me take a better look at her, and my heart nearly burst at what I saw. Even more attractive than I’d thought, her curvy body wrapped in strange fabrics that must have taken many days to make, so tight and even was its weave. Was she perhaps a noble amongst her people? Or a priestess?

  I asked her and she shrugged, holding her hands out palms up. I tried again, slow and careful. Many generations had passed since the Sky People had last visited our clan. It was possible that, despite my best efforts, my pronunciation of the Sky Tongue was the problem.

  But she shook her head again, and I sighed. At least we had that much communication, though ‘yes’ and ‘no’ wouldn’t get us far on their own.

  “I should return straight away to my clan, tell the Eldest what happened here,” I said, knowing that she wouldn’t understand. It still helped to speak my options aloud, even if she could not offer me advice. “If none of the others survived the battle with your enemy, my report is urgent.”

  She shrugged and answered in her own incomprehensible language, bringing a smile to my face. Her sweet, musical voice twined around my heart and my mind, filling me with peace and joy. I’d have listened to her speak for hours, even without understanding a word.

  So much beauty in such a helpless body. She did not know the ways of survival here, and if she stayed put in the cave she’d not know what was safe to eat. Leaving her on her own would be a death sentence. If I left, either she’d come with me or I’d delay long enough to teach her what here was food.

  “If I take you to the Elders, they’ll call you a demon,” I mused aloud once she’d finished. “Especially if Marakz survived to tell them his version of what happened. I will not put you in such danger.”

  The idea was awful. They would throw a demon down the deepest shaft, body lying in the dark, forever denied a return to the Sky.

  A chance I would not take with my… whatever she was. I looked at her again, wondering how someone so different managed to be so attractive at the same time. She didn’t even have a tail, her legs were all wrong, and yet somehow she lit my blood on fire.

  I stepped towards her without making a conscious decision. Safe in the cave, a sealed door between us and the predators outside, I didn’t have to worry about us being interrupted now. And while I wasted time trying to solve problems, my body had made its choice.

  Let the thinking wait till tomorrow, tonight I shall show her the pleasure I can offer her. I breathed a deep breath, my tongue catching the scent of her on my tongue. Heady and thick with the sweet tang of arousal, I’d never breathed anything so fine.

  She backed off, eyes full of fear, excitement, and a desperate need equal to my own. Breathing fast, pupils wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks reddening. Another step and she backed against the pile of firewood, trapped and pinned. I growled, hungry and eager, and pounced.

  With a gasp, she threw her arms around me, and our lips met in a kiss that set my soul aflame. The soft curves of her body writhed against me, her moans inflamed my passion. Firewood tumbled as I pressed her against the stack.

  When we broke for air, she was panting for breath and whimpering. I darted out my tongue, licking her neck, tasting her sweat, her excitement, her pleasure.

  I refused to wait to taste more of her. Pulling at the unfamiliar fabric she wore, I tried to work out the fastenings — as tempting as it was to tear it away, I did not wish to damage what might be important to her. The cloth alone was a treasure without price.

  Before I worked out how to undo it, she groaned and pushed me back, her small hand against my chest. I leaned back and frowned, seeing her shake her head.

  No. We’d established that. With a shudder of effort I stepped back, and she looked surprised that I’d listened to her.

  What kind of awful people was she used to if it surprised her when a man accepted her ‘no’? Remembering the other alien, the one who’d struck her, I snarled in anger. What right did he, did anyone, have to treat her like that? To make her see danger in any man close to her?

  “Do not fear, small one, I shall bring you to such heights of pleasure,” I told her, wondering how she could refuse the call she obviously felt. The same call which threatened to overwhelm me.

  But fear had a stronger grip on her than lust. Even now that I’d released her, she still watched me carefully, as though I was a zsinz about to pounce.

  I backed away another step, then another, and didn’t stop until my back was against the wall opposite her. There, that should make her feel safer.

  It seemed to work. She slumped down the wall, keeping a watchful gaze on me the whole time. One hand fumbled with her glowing wrist jewelry, and suddenly her mysterious ghost-pet sat between us, white as the mountain snow, eyes piercing green. It looked to her, to me, and hummed.

  A strange noise, low pitched and a little uncomfortable to hear, but unlike the dreadful howl of the cursed place, this was easy to ignore.

  It affected her differently, though. Muscles relaxed, tension left her shoulders, her breathing steadied. She even managed a smile at me across the cave, though no signal for me to return to her side. My ssav shifted, amber patterns joining the purple on my torso and arms.

  She watched with apparent fascination, eyes wide. Did her people not have ssavs? How would any thinking species survive like that, without a way to express their emotions easily, or to recognize their mates when they met? The two of us were different in ways I couldn’t imagine.

  Had I misread her? But no, that was impossible. I’d tasted her desire in the air, seen her reaction to my touch. She felt the same need for me as I did for her, but she wasn�
�t willing to give in to it. Why not?

  This was like a tale out of legend, the Sky-matched lovers Zzin and Er-Elisha. Bound together by the Sky People, kept apart by their kin. Only I knew nothing of her kin, nor she of mine.

  “I wish I could ask you,” I said, looking at her with a sigh. “There are so many things I would ask you, tell you, show you, if only you’d let me, but I cannot even tell you about them.”

  Gesturing in frustration, I froze. Stared at my arm, my ssav, the scales colors catching my eye. Purple and amber I’d expected, but not the reddish pink that joined them, weaving through the pattern like a flame in the dark.

  It was the same color as my captive’s face when she blushed. My ssav matched her, even if she didn’t have a ssav of her own.

  9

  Tessa

  Why did I say no? My whole body ached for this alien warrior who’d kidnapped me. Or rescued me. Or somethinged me, anyway. I still felt his touch where he’d carried me, a fire that refused to simmer down.

  Fuck. No man on Earth had ever made me feel like this. But I couldn’t give in to it. Not when I knew so little about the alien and his intentions. Though he’d done a lot to prove himself trustworthy by taking my refusal so well.

  He watched from across the cave, pressed against the wall, hands in plain view. The patterns of his scales changed, intense purple giving way in places to an amber color. A reddish pink wound through it too, a color that reminded me of something, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. Whatever it meant, it was impressive. Like a beautiful moving tattoo, or a bird’s mating plumage. And aren’t those really the same thing?

  The alien warrior wasn’t staring at me anymore, which helped me calm down. He was looking at his hands instead, keeping his eyes off me, talking — though whether he talked to me or to himself, I couldn’t tell.