Her Alien Beast

by Presley Hall

  “I do. I really, really do.” She smiles, and I can’t help but smile back. Then she lifts her chin, her eyes brightening suddenly. “Hey, I have an idea.”

  “What is it?” I roll onto my side.

  “Well, I’ve been worried about what might happen if anyone else in the village gets injured or sick. We’re basically down to nothing when it comes to medical supplies, and I wish I was exaggerating.” She presses her lips together. “We used up a lot of supplies after the last fight, and I don’t see us easily getting more any time soon. But I’d like to set up some kind of medical facility in the village. I think I could figure it out. It’ll be old school and very primitive, but surely there are plants growing on Nuthora that can treat illnesses and injuries. Right?”

  “There are.” I speak slowly, watching her eyes light up in pleasure at my words. “I know where some grow. And once the recovery effort is done, I’m sure Droth will send a party into the nearest city, Pascia. We still have some salvaged items from the ship that we can trade for goods and supplies.”

  “Medical supplies?”

  “Among other things. With the diamantum Jaro and Sadie collected, we can begin work on building a communication device that will let us contact our allies back on Vox. But we need several more components first, and we’ll have to trade for those as well.”

  “That’s even more reason for us to start the medical facility and begin collecting healing herbs and plants now,” she says. “If there are other things Droth plans to trade for in Pascia, we can’t count on getting all the medical supplies we need from the city. We’d be better off making some of our own if we can.”

  I nod. “I agree. It seems like a wise plan.”

  Elizabeth grins widely. Her excitement overjoys me to see. I can tell that having a sense of purpose has bolstered her spirits, and I feel the same satisfaction swelling in my own chest. Despite my injuries, I can be useful. I can help my mate and keep her safe while she gathers plants and makes medicines.

  “Okay.” She laces her fingers together, tapping two of them against her bottom lip. “I’ll ask Droth about repurposing one of the buildings to make a medical facility.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be open to the idea. And there will be new buildings soon as well. He told me about Charlotte and her ‘bricks.’”

  Elizabeth blinks at me, and then a laugh bursts from her lips. Gods, her laughter is like a gust of fresh air. Seeing her happiness is like watching the sun come up, the ground thawing after a long winter. It soothes me slightly, and calms the anger sitting like a stone in my chest.

  “Yeah, bricks are pretty well-known on Earth. They’re basically mud and water. I’m not sure how she’s going to bake them here, but she’s smart, she’ll figure out a way.” She purses her lips. “And they’re not as flammable as wood.”

  “That’s a good thing,” I say, grinning.

  Elizabeth smiles back at me, her eyes softening with affection. It makes me want to reach out and touch her, but of course, I have to hold myself back as always. But it’s less frustrating this time, seeing her so excited at the prospect of doing something useful for the village.

  “Okay, so we can build a facility, and, yes, there’s a lot we’ll have to do to prepare. We’ll need supplies from the city, naturally. But in the meantime, you can help me gather plants that have medicinal qualities.” She hesitates, meeting my gaze. “That is, if… if you want to help me.”

  I consider her offer. It’s not the same as hunting or rebuilding, but it would still be of use to the village. Besides, it will mean a lot of time spent working alongside Elizabeth. Even if she doesn’t want to be my mate, my heart and soul are soothed by her presence.

  “Yes. Of course I want to help you.”

  “Great. Come on, then.” She presses to her feet, dusting her hands off. When I blink at her in surprise, she adds, “You aren’t in any shape to go around starting fights and hauling heavy shit, but I think you can come walk with me in the woods without setting back your healing.”

  I grin and sit up. My side aches at the new movement, and I grimace as I get to my feet. I’m limping a little, which I hate—the reminder of my own weakness makes my jaw clench and my fingers curl, but I can’t do anything about it.

  Elizabeth reaches out to help me get all the way upright. Heat flares between us as soon as our bodies touch, the way it always seems to when we get close.

  I expect her to flinch away from me, for her eyes to turn wary or her shoulders to tense up and rise. But she’s so excited at the prospect of this new mission that she doesn’t seem to be bothered by the spark of electricity. She doesn’t pull away. I’m not strong enough to resist the urge to breathe in her scent, but I do it as subtly as I can.

  Quickly, she gathers up enough water for both of us for the day, and I point out a small satchel sitting in the corner of the room that we can use to store the plants we gather.

  Then she tucks herself beneath my arm so she can help support my weight as we head out of the hut.

  13

  Elizabeth

  I help Axen walk as we slowly make our way out of the village. Every step makes our bodies touch, his arm supported by my shoulder, not embracing me but resting on me like a crutch. Which is good, because I barely supported his weight when I was high on adrenaline. I definitely couldn’t do it when my knees are so weak and his proximity makes my heart race.

  I try not to think about it, but I can’t not think about it. I’ve spent the entire week an emotional wreck, still processing the fact that I’m pregnant and half-mated and that I’m going to have a baby on this Godforsaken planet.

  None of what I said to Axen earlier was a lie. I could see the cabin fever sinking its claws into him, and I know from experience and from dealing with patients at my old hospital what the signs look like. I know that having a purpose helps beat back the frustration and helplessness. Hell, I’ve been dealing with those same feelings myself. My injuries and limitations aren’t physical, but I definitely know how he feels.

  The idea of setting up an actual medical facility, of getting some herbal remedies and medicines together that will help while we wait to gather more advanced supplies? That gives me a purpose. It will make me feel settled and in control again. I’m so excited by the idea that it helps temper the awareness of Axen and the way sparks keep flying whenever we touch.

  We head into the woods, sticking relatively close to the village since Axen tells me that a lot of what we can use grows nearby. I don’t want to strain him so badly that he can’t make it back to the village with me, or go so far away that no one can come help us if we need assistance. The trees close in around us as we make our way through the undergrowth, and eventually, the walls of the Voxeran settlement disappear from sight, although I know it’s not too far away.

  We reach a small clearing after a while, and I glance around, noticing a bunch of different plants and mushrooms growing amidst the grass and bushes. I look up at Axen with my brows raised.

  He makes a sweeping gesture with one hand. “This is a good first stop.”

  Our gazes hold for a long moment—so long that I lose my train of thought. Then he swallows and steps away from me, limping his way over to a tree. He gestures for me to follow and points to a cluster of small plants that look like grass. Upon closer inspection, I realize they have tiny spines growing out of the sides of them, like miniature aloe vera plants.

  “This is the taurfa plant,” he tells me. “It’s good for pain, when mashed into a paste and placed on a wound.”

  “Perfect.” I pull the little satchel from my back, kneeling down to carefully prune some.

  “You won’t need a lot,” he adds. “One strand is enough to knock someone my size out.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head, and gather every spiny strand I see. It never hurts to be overstocked.

  Once I’ve cleared most of the small patch of taurfa, I stand up again, searching for more of it. I see some more growing out of the base of another t
ree and look back to Axen.

  He smiles at me and lifts his chin. “I’m all right. I’m able to walk on my own,” he assures me. “You can gather that while I look for other things.”

  I grin and nod. He’s definitely healing well, now that he finally took my advice and actually rested, so I know he’s telling the truth.

  Grabbing my satchel, I go to gather more of the taurfa. A strangely wistful sensation comes over me as I kneel down again. Honestly, I kind of liked having an excuse to touch Axen. I liked having my arm around him and feeling him lean against me, even though I’m not strong enough to actually support all of his weight.

  I push the thought away, reminding myself that I’m the one who asked him for space. Maybe it will get easier once a bit of time has passed. Maybe the intense feelings he draws out in me will settle, and the air between us won’t seem to thicken every time he looks at me.

  “I know some of these fungi can be used for fever,” I hear Axen say from somewhere behind me, his voice low and thoughtful. “But I’m not sure which.”

  I look over my shoulder to where he’s studying a small cluster of mushroom-like plants growing out of the side of a tree. To call them mushrooms is kind of a stretch, though. One of them is a bright red and shaped the wrong way, like a bowl instead of an umbrella. The other is gray but has thick veins of yellow growing in the stem, mixed with blue dots.

  “Well, is the other kind poisonous? If not, we can take both and experiment.”

  Axen considers my question. “I don’t believe so,” he replies slowly. “But you never know on Nuthora. It might be better to wait and ask. Some of the plants here can kill you with a single touch.”

  I grimace, once again reminded of the sheer terror of raising a child on this fucking planet. What if it crawls away and gets eaten by a giant bird or something, or touches a plant that will just kill it outright?

  I shudder at the terrible images that flash through my mind and shake my head, trying not to think about it. It feels like for every thought that pops into my head, I have to push away or shove down three more. It’s exhausting, and it feels like I’m running out of spare room in the corners of my mind.

  “Did you use plants in healing back on Earth?” Axen asks, going to a spot where more taurfa is nestled under a tree so I can gather it. He then gestures to another plant he calls a bagak. This one like a tiny palm tree, the fronds a rather pretty blend of orange and purple, sprouting out of the ground like a bad haircut. “Only take the leaves,” he adds. I nod and start picking.

  “We did use plants,” I reply, answering his earlier question. “But generally, when we found a plant that worked, we would distill the part of it that did what we wanted and then make medicine from that. That’s obviously not really a possibility here. But there are still things we used on Earth even in modern times, like lavender and tea tree oil and stuff like that.”

  “Lavender.” He repeats the word as if testing it out on his tongue. He meets my eyes, tilting his head. “What is that?”

  “It’s a plant,” I tell him, and he arches a brow at my teasing response. I grin. “It’s purple and grows in fields. It has a really strong scent that’s used for soothing headaches or just general calming effects. People on Earth stuff it in pillows sometimes.”

  Axen tilts his head again, his eyes gaining a strange intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

  “Yes,” I reply immediately. “I always knew that was what I wanted to do. I worked at a hospital, and it was stressful sometimes, but I really loved it.”

  He makes a noise in his chest at that, almost a rumbling sort of purr, and I can’t guess what’s he’s thinking. I focus on the plant instead, turning my attention to harvesting the strange fronds.

  “What about you?” I glance over at Axen quickly. “What did you do back on Vox?”

  He goes quiet, stillness filling the air around us. I let him have his silence, focused on only touching the fronds of the plant as I work. I don’t know what might happen if I touch any other part of it, and I’m in no hurry to find out.

  “I was always a warrior,” Axen finally says. His voice has grown soft, somewhere between wistful and sad. I look at him and find his gaze fixed on my hands, shadowed with memory. “It’s all I’ve ever been. I followed orders, and I fought. I didn’t have to think about anything else. Just… obey. That was my purpose.”

  I swallow hard, drawn in by his story and by the look on his face.

  “When Droth’s father died, and his uncle Drokar stepped in to steal power, I had to make a choice.” Axen lifts his eyes, meeting my gaze. “I had to choose between blindly following orders or standing with Droth and doing what I knew to be right.” He gives me a small sardonic smile. “I suppose it’s obvious what I chose.”

  I stare at him, drawing my hands away from the plant. “I think you made the right choice.”

  “I do too.”

  The shadows in his eyes clear a bit, and I can see that, despite what he said earlier about being just a warrior, there’s so much more to Axen than that. He’s obviously very protective of the people he loves, and I can tell he’s a man who tries hard to do the right thing. The very fact that he refused to serve an illegitimate ruler says a lot about his character.

  He stands with a small grunt, and I do as well, following his finger as he gestures behind me. “I think there are more of the bagak in that direction.”

  I nod, and we walk side by side past a few more trees until, indeed, we come across more bagak. I begin pruning again, feeling more of the tension in my shoulders melting away as I continue to work. This is finally something to do, and it gives me the sense of purpose I’ve been craving.

  After a while, Axen starts actively helping me. There are more plants he’s familiar with in this clearing, and he plucks or prunes or uproots them as needed, telling me all of their uses. We keep at it until my satchel is nearly bursting with medicinal herbs.

  We talk as we work, moving on from our old occupations on our home planets to other subjects. I learn that he’s excellent at a game the Voxerans play that sounds similar to mahjong, and I tell him about my time in medical school, doing my best to make days and nights of endless studying sound more exciting than they were.

  He leads me to a new clearing, interrupting our conversation every once in a while to point out plants that might be useful.

  With each new plant or herb he identifies, the names sound stranger and stranger. After a while, I narrow my eyes and look at him.

  “You don’t actually know the names of any of these, do you?” I accuse.

  He tilts his head at me, the picture of innocence. I hold up the plant I just harvested, which looks basically like a purple carrot but has a corkscrew at the top that makes it a lot easier to pull out. “There is no way this is called a ‘yaya.’”

  Axen’s lips twitch. “Must be a faulty translator chip.”

  I blink at him, watching his grin widen. Then I burst into hysterical laughter.

  “How many of these have you made up?” I ask, gesturing to the satchel behind me.

  “Only a few.” He shrugs, making me laugh again. He always smiles so widely when I laugh. “My brothers and I are not native to this planet. We know the actual names of some of the creatures and plants here, and the ones we don’t know, we’ve invented. As long as the thing does what we want it to, what does it matter what it’s called?”

  “A rose by any other name?” I tease. He frowns at me, clearly confused. “It’s an expression,” I clarify. “A phrase made up by this guy called William Shakespeare. He’s… he wrote a lot of plays and stuff, on Earth, a long time ago.”

  “Oh.” Axen considers that, looking intrigued. “Was he any good?”

  “A lot of people think so. Theater companies are still producing his work hundreds of years after he died, so I guess it stands the test of time.”

  I look down at the purple plant in my hand—which is definitely not calle
d a yaya—and brush off a bit of dirt before slipping it into my satchel. As I withdraw my hand from the bag, a small, silvery thing catches my eye.

  Frowning, I crawl over to it, wondering if it’s more of the painkilling grass Axen first pointed out to me. I push aside a large leaf that looks like a dock leaf, though it’s a brilliantly yellow color. Axen doesn’t make a sound as I do, so I assume it’s not poisonous to touch. Bright colors don’t seem to be easy tells on this planet as to what’s dangerous or not, like they sometimes are on Earth.

  I can feel Axen’s warmth behind me as he, too, peers at the new find.

  “Ah,” he breathes.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know its name,” he admits, making me grin. “But it’s one of the main ingredients we use to make our epoxy. It creates the part that actually promotes healing, when combined with resin for sealing properties.”

  My eyes widen. I turn to look at him, startled by how close he is. “Really?” I ask, my voice betraying my excitement.

  He nods. “It’s rare, and difficult to extract. Here.”

  He leans in even closer, and I shiver as one arm comes forward to brace himself by my knee, his forearm brushing my thigh right below my makeshift shirt. Another spark arcs between, and I swallow back the soft noise that tries to escape my lips. I watch as he worms a single finger below the silvery strand, revealing that it’s more like a vine, or a root, embedded in the ground.

  “We need to be very careful,” he murmurs. “Hold it still, like this.”

  I nod and slide my fingers into place on either side of his. He’s kneeling so close to me, practically on top of me, and all I can think about is how massive and strong he is. My hands shake as he carefully caresses the grass growing around the little vine, taking apart the clumps of dirt with utmost gentleness and care until he reveals another piece of the plant, which the vine attaches to. It’s orange and looks like a tiny peach, barely larger than my eye.

  Axen clears the ground around the top of the fruit and puts his hands over mine. They’re so much larger than mine, and I bite my lower lip hard to stop myself making a sound as he interlaces our fingers. I don’t dare look up at his face, to see if he can feel the same heat I do. My cheeks are red, and my fingers won’t stop shaking.