Ruth's Bonded (Ruth & Gron Book 1)

by V. C. Lancaster

  She opened her eyes again, knowing she should disengage from him and leave him in peace, but she didn’t want to leave the warm for the cold. At least she’d stopped shaking now and felt strong enough emotionally to take care of herself for a bit. She lifted his arm off her stomach and peeled herself away. She smiled back at him. He looked confused and a little stunned.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I feel better now.”

  He grumbled and lurched forward, as if he’d been meaning to follow her then been struck by uncertainty.

  Now she was unsure. Did he want to keep cuddling? Maybe he got something out of it after all. She smiled, and held out her hand as a test. If he wanted to hold her some more, she might actually be able to sleep. He looked at her hand, then took it, almost as if touch had never been a problem for him. She grinned. She moved closer again and gently nudged him so that he would lie down with his back against the wall, then she lay down with her back against his chest. She picked up his arm and draped it over her waist, then gently shifted her weight so that she was leaning on him, and he was leaning on the wall.

  “Okay?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. He rumbled something and lightly brushed the hair away from her face and neck. She jumped when something fluffy crawled over her hip, having forgotten that he had that extra limb. He bent his arm under her head for her to use as a pillow, then shuffled down so that he could burrow his face into her hair and neck, inhaling deeply, his massive chest almost pushing her off him if he hadn’t been holding her to him.

  As he settled down to sleep, apparently content, his thankfully soft genitals brushing her thighs, she was suddenly afraid she had initiated something she didn’t understand. He had clearly changed his mind about them touching, but why? What did he think they were now? Cellmates? Friends? He wasn’t making moves to have sex with her, but he was spooning like a pro.

  She wasn’t going to interrupt his sleep for a second time. Not when they couldn’t talk about what was going on. This was what she wanted, a warm, pliant place to sleep. If he did anything she didn’t like, she would stop him. She didn’t think she would end up breaking his heart at any rate. If she had to correct him, or they had to separate when they escaped, it would just be a misunderstanding. It wasn’t like she would cause him irreparable emotional damage. They’d only known each other for three days.

  Chapter 13

  Ruth woke up in Gron’s arms. She was a weird patchwork of warm and cold, but overall she was more comfortable than she had been since she was taken. Her head was off the floor, for one thing, still resting on his arm. He was asleep behind her, his arm curled around her waist, holding her to him. His tail was still draped limply across her lap. She glanced down at it speculatively. He was asleep... and he’d seemed to have got over his aversion to her touch. Glancing behind her at his calmly sleeping face, she gently moved her hand down to brush the fur of the tail, receiving no reaction.

  She wrapped her hand around it and ran it down to the tip. It was weird. She was still kind of thinking of it as a human-tail, because Gron was so much like her, overall. It was warm and solid, the fur almost soft but with sharp points. She lifted the tail and brought it to where she could see it. It had to be three or four feet long at least, and she couldn’t quite get her hand all the way around it. The fur tufted into a point that she flicked back and forth, jumping when the tail twitched in her hands. She smiled, that must tickle. She did it again, and the tail jerked to try to leave her hand, but she kept her grip and ran her finger across the end to soothe it and straighten any hairs she had disturbed. She brought it to her mouth to feel the fur against her lips. It was distinctly prickly. She ran it through her hands a few more times before moving to lay it back across her hip, but it curled around her wrist and the tip rubbed back and forth on her palm, as if asking her to continue.

  Ruth looked behind her and found Gron’s large dark eyes watching her. The tail pressed harder into her hand, and she had to smile. Someone apparently liked being stroked, much as he had protested earlier. Ruth smiled again and went back to stroking the tail, smoothing any ruffled hair where she found it and dragging her nails through the fur. Gron groaned and lowered his face to her shoulder, tightening his hold on her to bring her closer.

  This was the point at which a human man would be pressing an erection into her back, she recognised, but there was nothing. Clearly, this was a platonic interaction for Gron, so Ruth resisted the urge to drop the tail and roll over to start running her fingers over his muscles instead. What the hell was she thinking? He was an alien, and a virtual stranger. It must just be the post-coital position she was in, waking up naked with him, she decided. In fact, she should probably move now they were both awake. It was nice of him to keep her warm while she slept, but she couldn’t rely on him anymore than that and she couldn’t get used to it. She sat up away from Gron, and made the eye-covering gesture so she could use the hole.

  There was still no food or anything to drink, and Ruth was really beginning to feel the lack now. She was also intensely aware of how gross she was, particularly her hair. Gron stank but she was used to that, but her skin was clammy and rough, and she would have traded almost anything at that point for a shower, or even a hairbrush. Their mingled scents filled the cell. It must be pretty overpowering if anyone not used to it came in, but that was what happened when u kept living things locked up in the same small space. As she walked about, she noticed that Gron’s scent seemed to be following her around more than usual, and that her hands and back felt kind of oily. She sniffed at her palms and realised they smelt like him, and that he must have some kind of oil in his fur, which she had rubbed all over her hands. And her back had been resting on that chest-carpet of his. Great. Still, her own hair was pretty gross, and the same thing would probably happen to him if he ran his hands through it. She couldn’t hold it against him in their situation. She rubbed her stomach trying to soothe her hunger and to distract herself from how thirsty she was.

  Suddenly the cell lurched violently, almost making her lose her footing. Gron was by her side in an instant, his hand on her back to steady her, his tail thrashing as he snarled and looked around trying to find the threat. The cell was obviously canting to one side now, like whatever was supporting them before had broken. Gron growled something and looked at her, rubbing her back. Ruth was genuinely scared. What if they fell out into space or something? Then the other side crashed down to level out the cell, sending her stumbling into Gron who caught her and held her close, clearly not wanting her out of reach.

  They both stared out of the hatch, desperate for some kind of clue as to what was happening. They saw the ceiling of the room above them recede until they were looking at the body of the ship they had been in fly away. Then they were looking at the stars.

  “Oh my God...” Ruth moaned. Gron’s hold on her tightened but he didn’t speak. Cool night air filtered into the cell. They had been delivered to their destination, which they still had no idea about, or their purpose there. Ruth heard the voices of the aliens who had taken them and the cell moved again, though not as violently as before. Her stomach sank as she interpreted the movements as the cell being levered up, like on a forklift or a jack, and then driven or pulled forward. They were definitely travelling.

  Maybe the sight of the stars or the fresh air revived her, but she was suddenly afraid that if they didn’t escape now, it would be too late. She gripped Gron’s arm and said his name, pointing at the hatch, hoping he understood her but knowing he probably didn’t. The cell wobbled as it went over uneven ground. Maybe if they charged the wall, it would tip over. But what would that accomplish? It would only really disrupt the aliens plans if they flipped it so that the hatch was on the ground, but that would cut off their only light supply. Ruth glanced towards the hole in the floor, but she already knew it didn’t lead directly to the outside.

  She began to be able to hear more noise, more voices. They were heading for a small crowd of some sort. Oh no. Were they a
bout to be thrown into a ring? She couldn’t fight, she’d definitely be killed eventually if they made her fight to the death against aliens who probably had claws and fangs and poison and... If they tossed her and Gron in together, he would protect her, but she would be useless and a liability to him. She would slow him down and distract him, limit how and where he could move. It would be just like when the aliens came into their cell. Eventually he would get tired and be overpowered or outnumbered. She didn’t know what they were about to face, but Gron was a good fighter. He could last if he didn’t have her to worry about. She gripped him tighter and prayed he didn’t abandon her.

  The voices grew closer as the cell kept moving. They didn’t sound bloodthirsty, at least. The aliens moving them shouted to each other. Ruth wondered if the hatch was still untouchable when it was detached from the ship. She could probably work the bolt if Gron lifted her up high enough to get her arms through the bars.

  Finally, after what was probably only ten or fifteen minutes, the cell came to a stop. Ruth thought she could see the glow of some kind of artificial light, maybe flickering like fire. Gron pulled her gently away from below the hatch. He pushed her behind him as he backed away against the wall, tucking her into the corner again, shielding her from view but also preventing her from seeing anything around him.

  She thought she could hear more voices, and the cell thumped as if several of the aliens had just jumped onto the top. A bone-chilling growl tore out of Gron, and she guessed he could see them, or sense them some other way. This time she put her hands on his waist while his tail flicked angrily around her legs. Once again he hunched forward, ready to fight, and when he did so she saw a green face looking in though the hatch at them. It looked like a giant toad, but more luminescent, with big black eyes. Judging from the size, it could be the same species as the crew who had taken her.

  The green thing stared right at her for a moment, then withdrew, speaking to the others. There were a few short shouts, like orders being given, and an argument, but then Ruth heard the bolt on the hatch slide back.

  Gron apparently heard it too because, like lightning, he grabbed her and dashed across the cell, smashing through the hatch. Ruth couldn’t see anything. He had basically grabbed her around the waist and the forces of his movements almost bent her double. She heard screaming and shouting, but Gron was bounding away. The guy was fast. Ruth tried to straighten up enough to see what was happening. She saw what looked like a small fair with stalls surrounded by cages of all shapes and sizes, with several darkly robed figures moving between them. Their cell sat on the edge, with the short aliens around and on top of it like ants, some of them standing and some having been knocked down. Some of them were chasing after them but it was clear they wouldn’t catch up. Their cell looked surprisingly small from the outside. She wouldn’t have thought two people could live inside it for almost a week.

  The terrain they were running over was flat dirt with odd tufts of grass. There was a forest bearing down on them as Gron ran, and as soon as it was within reach, he leapt, and Ruth suddenly found herself fifteen feet up a tree. Well. Looked like she’d been right about Gron being from a tree-dwelling people.

  Gron spoke and took a second to look her over with four out of his five limbs holding them to the tree. He seemed to judge that she was okay, and manoeuvred her to his back. She quickly got that he wanted her to hang on piggy back style, and she did her best to get there, praying not to fall. Once she was secured with her arms around his neck and her legs locked around his waist, he took off again, working his way higher up into the treetops as he jumped from one branch to the next to take them away from the clearing. Presumably he was used to this kind of action, but it was easily one of the most terrifying experiences of her life, probably in third place after being abducted by aliens and then having her clothes cut off her by said aliens. She tucked her face between her shoulder and his neck and shut her eyes, so all she was aware of was the creak of branches, their breathing, the wind lifting her hair, and her empty stomach rolling over.

  Eventually, Ruth realised how silent the world was around them. She couldn’t hear the cries of their pursuers, or anything. It was remarkably peaceful. She also noticed Gron was making pauses occasionally, and the next time he did so, she dared to raise her head and look.

  They were in a dense forest. The trees were very similar to trees on Earth, but they had large leaves like palm fronds. She tried to look behind her to see how far they had come, but all she could see was forest in every direction. Gron was looking around too, touching the trunk of the tree and bouncing their weight on the branch, apparently comparing it to the trees around them. She thought he must be looking for a safe place for them to stop.

  “Gron,” she said, and he looked over his shoulder at her and stroked her arm where it lay over his throat. His eyes were not exactly confident, but not exactly scared either. Ruth guessed he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had them squirreled away up a tree out of reach of the bad guys. “Okay,” she sighed, tucking her head back into her shoulder. Briefly, she felt him nuzzle the top of her head, then they were off again.

  It took a lot more searching before Gron indicated she could get down. She felt like her limbs were permanently pretzled as she tried to get them to release their frozen grip on Gron, and she stumbled when she got her feet down. Gron held her in steadying hands, but luckily the tree branch was thick enough to stand comfortably on. She realised she could hear running water and looked down to see a stream running past a few trees away.

  “Gron!” she cried slapping his arm and pointing. He grumbled something at her, but she just repeatedly pointed at herself and then at the water, indicating she wanted to go there and she wouldn’t stop until he took her seriously. Apparently realising he wouldn’t get anything done until he took her there, Gron scooped her up onto his back again and agilely swung their way down.

  This time she leapt off him and ran to the water. She waded into it, not even caring that the water was cold. She sat down in it until it was waist-high. She didn’t see any fish but there were green under water plants, which she hoped meant the water wasn’t deadly. She quickly scooped some up and drank it, letting it run down her chest. She laughed. She was free. She held her hands up to the stars and just admired how they looked with trees and sky in the background instead of blank metal walls. She let herself fall backwards, pinching her nose so she could lie under the running water. It dragged through her hair, the cold water on her scalp feeling insanely refreshing.

  She heard a splash and came up to investigate, and found that Gron had taken one hesitant, worried step into the water. She laughed and held out her hands to him, but he didn’t join her. She stood up and went to stand in front of him, her wet skin quickly chilling in the night air but it didn’t hurt her mood. She was grinning like an idiot, holding her hands out to him, not even caring that she was naked. They were free! Why wasn’t he celebrating?

  She reached forward and took his hands, trying to tug him into the water but she couldn’t move him. She tilted her head and looked questioningly at him. He took one of his hands back and pinched the fur on his chest, then he dipped the tip of his tail into the water and pulled it out again, sodden and dripping. Ah. He was telling her his fur soaked up too much water. If he went swimming now, he’d freeze during the night. She stroked his hand to let him know she understood, then walked back into the stream. She sat down and drank some more, then began trying to wash herself clean. It wasn’t easy without soap, but there was a sandy silt at the bottom of the stream that she could scrub herself with.

  Gron groaned from the bank and she glanced over at him, and almost fell over with shock. He was watching her and playing with himself! Or at least that was what she thought... When he took his hand away, he was still soft, but he definitely had an unhappy expression on his face. What the hell?

  She was suddenly uncomfortable and very aware again that she was naked, and she hunched over in the water to cover her breasts.
Gron didn’t seem to notice, turning away from her and leaping into the tree. What the hell was that about, she asked herself as she started up her scrubbing again. Maybe he just needed to relieve himself. Or was jealous that she was getting to wash and he wasn’t. He had to be even worse than she was, maybe he just had an itch. Ruth froze. Maybe he had crabs. Or fleas. Alien flea-crabs. She’d slept against him last night, so if he had them, she had them now too. She looked down at herself worriedly. She hadn’t felt anything. Maybe it hadn’t been long enough.

  She sighed. She hadn’t seen him scratching in the cell. It was mean of her to think that just because he had fur, he had fleas. He’d gotten her out of that cell, after all. He could have left her there, but instead he’d carried her away, like King Kong. She quite probably owed him her life.

  Maybe he was just missing Mrs Gron.

  Ruth got as clean as she could, drank as much water as she could, relieved herself, then had to admit that she was cold. She had nothing to dry with and her hair was dripping and she hadn’t eaten since before the aliens took her clothes. Her stomach was full of water at the moment and she was so happy to be free that she didn’t really mind not having food for now, but she knew she’d have to eat soon.

  She stood at the base of the tree and called for Gron. He swung down a moment later and she held her arms out. He looked at her and shifted away, and she wondered if they were back to the no-touching rule. She was screwed if they were, which she reminded him of by pointing to herself, then pointing up into the tree. He seemed to get what she meant then because he picked her up and threw her onto his back again before effortlessly scaling the tree. She’d have to find a way to ask him to be a bit more gentle with his throwing.

  Up in the high branches, Gron deposited her near the trunk then moved back out to where he had clearly been tying branches together with vines and smaller flexible branches to make a platform. This must be how his people make their homes. Ruth knew if she tried it, it would have the structural integrity of a sandcastle, but she also trusted Gron not to put her in danger. If it could support his weight, it could take hers.