Chapter 8
Blair
I tried everything. Slicing my finger across my throat, interpretive dance, even a dramatic reenactment of Jivorn about to run him through before I showed up, and this idiot still wasn’t getting it.
I got that there was a language barrier in place, but holy tintinnabulation Batman, how did he not hear the alarm bells I was sounding off?
You know what? Fuck it. If Osid was too dumb to understand, then he must want to die.
It was the only explanation. I crossed my arms over my chest and growled in frustration.
The trail came to a gentle downhill slope, and the triceratops slowed its pace, lest it fell victim to the treacherous mud.
Unfortunately, its concerns were well founded, and its feet lost their grip, and it slipped suddenly, its front legs scrambling for balance.
I gasped, my body lurching forward. My arms flailed as I tilted precariously to the side.
Osid’s arm came around my waist to steady me.
His large hand pressed against my stomach, pulling me back against him just as I was about to fall.
He held me tight against him as we continued down the hill; his warm breath fanned against the nape of my neck.
A peculiar sensation passed through me, like my whole being was suddenly filled with waiting.
I swallowed thickly, realizing I’d never been this close to him while not under duress (am I still under duress?), and my senses swiftly took notice of the smell and feel of him…
Huffing nervously, the triceratops slipped again when the hill grew steeper. His head thrashed before turning his big body around to try to climb back up the hill.
Osid’s grip on the reins tightened as he gave a sharp tug, and the veins that protruded from his forearm sent a tingle to the pit of my stomach. The creature bellowed in protest, but his master held firm. His arm flexed as he pulled, the muscles rippling beneath the skin.
The triceratops jerked, stomping his foot in the slick mud.
Osid muttered soothing words in return and guided the reins gently to steer the beast back toward the path.
When the triceratops obeyed, I felt his confident laugh rumble against my back.
Still, Osid didn’t stop talking his beast through it, his deep voice a constant reassurance until the hill plateaued.
At the very least, no one I knew was here to see me get all hot and bothered by a morally questionable alien.
Man had a voice like expensive brandy poured into a crystal glass.
If that even made sense. Who let this alien walk around with the voice of an action?
I covered my grin and subtly scooted a little closer.
He took notice and tilted his head before trying to hand me the reins again.
My hand still burned from touching that scorching log in the river, and I shook my head.
I spent the better part of the ride to god knows where wondering about several quandaries.
For starters, where the fuck were we going and what would be done to me when we got there?
Quandary two, was it wrong to flirt with an alien who just tried to give you a severed head?
Quandary three, did I really care? In every sense of the word, I was screwed.
The answer to the first question appeared in the form of a fortress surrounded by a large wooden fence.
Sentries were posted in watchtowers on both sides of the gate.
The sole occupant on the left was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he snored loud enough to wake the dead.
The two stationed on the right were in the middle of a game of dice when we approached.
A man dressed in leather armor with short forward-facing horns leapt up with a cheer just before his companion knocked the table over, sending dice and blocks clattering to the ground.
A die managed to fly over the fence itself, and the winning guard nearly threw himself off the parapet trying to catch it.
The guard’s face grew pale when he finally noticed our party waiting down below. Osid remained silent, yet his narrowed gaze was enough to have the man scramble back up to his post and shout orders to the others. The snoring man leapt up with a quickness and cranked the wheel, raising the gate.
Being inside the fortress felt a lot like walking into a GameStop or anywhere else where men who don’t see a lot of women congregate.
Everyone we passed immediately abandoned what they were doing to stare at us slack-jawed.
Well, not us per se. They were all staring at me.
Like the whole freaking camp. A man with a towel swung over his shoulder walked out from his home only to stop dead.
He stared at me.
I stared at the giant cock swinging low and free.
Hello.
His light purple skin flushed until his face resembled a plum. He ran back inside and slammed the door shut. Laughter broke out through the crowd at his retreat, and I found myself giggling along until Osid took hold of my chin and forced my gaze from the crowd and up to his scowling face.
“What?” I snapped, knocking his hand away. “You’re cute, but getting handsy with me is gonna change that real quick.”
Osid grabbed me by the waist and hauled me into his arms.
“WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!”
He swung a leg over the saddle and leapt off and set me down.
“Oh,” I said. “Why am I so fucking attracted to you?”
Moments later, I was seated at the end of a long dining table with a crudely drawn map in front of me and a gaggle of aliens watching me expectantly from every available seat.
When the table ran out of room, more crowded into the doorway while the men outside pretended to work as they snuck glances into the window.
I wonder if I could cause a riot if I flashed my tits right now.
I fiddled with the bottom of my top. The inescapable urge to cause chaos was nearly all-consuming.
Then I thought about what would happen after the riot, and decided I did not have the energy for that.
Another day, absolutely. I didn’t care if it was weird to say anymore; the aliens were hot.
Every last one of them was tall and muscled and fine; I said it.
The horns were hot too. I think we all knew why.
And should the opportunity arise for me to spend the day holding on to them, then that was what was meant to be.
It was only fair, seeing as I’d been through hell in a handbasket these past… day and a half?
Have I slept?
I honestly had no idea. Well, the scatterbrain proved it. As soon as I got some rest and a shower, I’d need to hold a village-wide fuck fest to clear my head.
Self. Care.
Osid rested his arms on the back of my chair, practically hovering over me. He reached past my shoulder to a forested area, then slid his finger down a river until it came to stop at a drawing of a castle. I was guessing that was where we were now.
I looked down at the map, then back to the endless rows of hopeful eyes. “I don’t…really know what you expect me to do here?”
Hakri stood from his chair excitedly and pointed back down to the map. “Jull diviju fahazel?”
“Yeah, that cleared nothing up.”
“Diviju,” he said again, slower this time.
“Still nothing.”
“DIVIJU!” shouted a particularly burly gray alien. When he got no response, he cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted louder.
Annoyed, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted back, “I’M NOT HARD OF HEARING, YOU ASSHAT, I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU! DRAW A PICTURE OR SOMETHING!”
My outburst caused him to shrink back in his seat.
The guy next to him smacked his horn, and the rest of the table erupted into annoyed chatter.
I was guessing some kind of vote was passed, because the loud guy was promptly dumped from his chair and replaced with a younger-looking man with a red arrow tattooed on his throat.
The replacement smiled politely; his long fangs made the gesture a little more intimidating than I was sure he intended.
He gestured to the map and asked in a polite voice, “Jull diviju fahazel?”
I slumped into my chair. We were getting nowhere fast, and I was way too tired for this shit. My stomach gave off a loud rumble, informing me I was also too hungry for this shit.
Osid turned to his would-be killer and waved a hand to the door. “Jivorn, fetu nahgosh.”
With a terse nod, Jivorn left the room. I leaned my head back to stare up at my alien. “I hope you sent him away for good. He’s trying to kill you, you know.”
He searched my gaze for a moment, then gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and pointed to the map.
“Ugh. Fine!” I pointed to a random spot where the mountains west of here met the sea.
Osid
“That’s just west of Fujilly Rock!” Biesabu all but screamed.
Kuzuu shot out of his chair, over to the window, and threw it open. “She came from Fujilly Rock!”
“Hold on,” I spoke up, but the damage was done. The men were in uproar, cheering and shoving each other.
“We should go there right now!” said Biesabu.
“It’s the middle of the night—”
“We should bring them a gift,” Kuzuu said, already strapping his weapons belt back on. “So they know we come in peace. Women like gifts, right?”
“The pink roses from the grove,” Hakri joined in. “My mother loves those!”
Jivorn returned from his task of instructing the cook to prepare a feast for my lucky charm and shot a disdainful look at the young hunter. “I hardly think flowers are enough to sway a woman. Your mother finds them passable, at best.”
The normally respectful Hakri sneered back at him. “She does love them. She just doesn’t like receiving them from you.”
It was no secret Jivorn coveted Nokitali. Most men in the camp did. It was hard not to, given she was the only surviving female in Dulba. But the long, silver-haired beauty was completely devoted to her Zhali match, Volan. Yet suitors still hounded after her, hoping she’d take them on as a second.