Chapter 13
– Theodora –
I hit the krolt with the spear, but it got me as I ran. There’s a searing pain in my calf, and it’s bleeding.
Getting into the hut and stabbing the predator through the mesh of the wall was the idea, but it might not have been the best one. Because that thing has the sharpest teeth I’ve ever seen, and it’s so thin it just might sneak through the mesh itself.
The attacker pulls back and circles us, going faster and faster. It could seem like it’s trying to waste time, as if it’s waiting for something.
Seen from directly ahead, the krolt looks like a capital T. Two eyes on stalks form the crossbar, like a hammerhead shark. And I’m sure these things have to always be moving to keep their balance, the way sharks have to always keep swimming to breathe.
From the side, the krolt is long and sleek and muscular, with a wood-camo pattern that must make it just about invisible in the jungle.
Half the front of the creature is a crescent-shaped gape like an inverted circular saw, except much scarier.
These things are among the most chilling I’ve ever seen on Xren, except for that tentacled sea monster.
But I wonder if the krolts aren’t more deadly.
“Get over here!” I yell. The hut should provide some protection, even for a caveman as big as Kenz’ox.
He comes closer, while the krolt must be doing sixty miles an hour in its circle, kicking up dirt and wearing a groove in the ground. When it attacks, it’s going to come fast.
Kenz’ox trips on a root and falls headlong to the ground.
His sword slides across the clearing and hits a tree at the edge of the jungle.
The krolt sees him down, and its hammerhead-shark eyes swivel towards its target as it runs.
It turns, leaning like a racing motorcycle, and then comes right towards me.
I understand what it’s going to do. Even without his sword, Kenz’ox is probably a formidable enemy for this thin predator.
But even so, the krolt moves so fast—just a blur of a T coming straight at me—that I barely have time to stick the spear out through the thin wall of the hut.
I’m fully aware that the charging krolt will run right through this flimsy structure.
And it does. For a while there’s only the krolt’s eyes, a spray of cold blood, and a wooden crash as the predator cuts right through the hut and out the other side. I scream as the spear is violently yanked out of my hands.
The krolt digs a three-foot-deep and thirty-foot-long groove in the dirt before it comes to rest, its tail up and its front buried in the ground.
Kenz’ox dives into the remains of the hut, bends down, and stares at me with worry in his intensely blue eyes. “Dorie! Are you injured?”
I’m not even sure, so I check. There’s a wound in my calf, and my hand is sore after the spear was pulled out of it, but apart from that I seem fine. “No.”
He grabs me and lifts me, carries me to the ship, and opens the hatch. “Now go inside. There may be more of these coming.”
I grab a new spear. “Then I staying outside.”
He growls in his throat and his eyes shoot blue fire. Then he turns abruptly and runs to get his sword. Checking on the two krolts, he first rams his sword into the one he cut up and then kicks at the other, half-buried one. It doesn’t move, so he bends down and yanks something out of it.
He comes back and hands me the iron head of my spear. “It went all the way through it,” he marvels. “You hit it exactly in the middle. A charging krolt! It should not be possible. If someone had told me, I would not have believed it. I keep forgetting what a master you are with that spear.”
I hold the thin spearhead with two fingers. It drips cold, thin blood. I’ve been insanely lucky with that thing, always hitting the target. This is the third time. “Next time might not hit.”
He stares in the direction the krolts came from. “I think you will. You just need a new shaft for that spearhead. I will make it once we know the pack isn’t coming.”
We both stand still, listening. The jungle is its usual noisy self, with the hiss from the beach constantly in the background. But Aker’iz is sleeping peacefully inside the saucer.
“Krolts live in nests,” Kenz’ox tells me quietly. “They hunt in packs. But they learn fast. I will drag these two outside the clearing. Their friends will see them and understand that the area is deadly.”
I close the hatch to the saucer and help him with that. The krolts are heavier than they look, being basically a couple of inches thick but really long. They don’t smell as bad as most of the dinos, although rancid meat was never my favorite scent.
“Can we use the skin?” I ask as we drag the first one over the barricade, with Kenz’ox doing pretty much all the work.
“Krolt skin is as thin as a leaf and about as tough,” he says as he leans the carcass against a tree. “Their claws are too brittle to use. Their teeth are sharp, but hard to get loose without getting cut while you do it. And they’re venomous.”
I take one step backward from the dead krolt. Of course something this nightmarish has to be venomous, too.
“I think you do this,” I suggest and hurry back to the saucer. I haven’t seen Otis for a while, and I start to worry that he might have been taken by those krolts. Although clearly dangerous in his own right, he’s nowhere near as big as them.
Kenz’ox returns and checks on my calf, wiping the blood away with a fresh leaf. “How are you feeling?”
I check. I’m relieved, bordering on euphoric, after winning the battle. I’m feeling triumphant and strong, protected and cared for. And now that the adrenaline level is dropping, I feel that I want to celebrate in a really physical way. His gentle hands on my skin are not helping.
“Feel fine,” I reply in a hoarse voice. I’m a little dizzy after the fight, a bit giddy.
He runs his hand gently up the side of my jumpsuit. It’s fine; he’s not a stranger. We’ve survived a deadly situation and probably saved each other’s lives.
Well, this is my chance. And now, I don’t care what he thinks. We won the fight.
Before he straightens up, I put my hand on the side of his head, clumsily but sincere. His hair is soft, his skin warm, his beard silky.
He looks up at me, and this time there’s no fire in his eyes, just heat.
“I see no other injury on you,” he says with more gravel in his voice than usual. “But I should make sure.”
“Yes. Make sure,” I echo, keeping my hand on his head and struggling with the mechanism of my alien jumpsuit.
I manage to loosen it, and I see no reason to be coy, so I pull it down to my waist. Cora gave me a leather bra, but I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, and apparently today wasn’t it.
The cool ocean air hits my bare breasts and tightens my nipples instantly. Kenz’ox’s gaze drops to them, and the low sound that rumbles out of his chest is pure, unrestrained hunger.
He rises slowly, towering over me, one huge hand sliding up my ribs to cup my breast like it was made to fit his palm. His thumb brushes the peak, and I gasp at how sensitive I am. Every nerve is still singing from the fight.
“Dorie,” he growls, the alien syllables of my name rough and reverent at once. “I have wanted this since you killed the drok.”
I reach for the ties of his loincloth with shaking fingers. The leather knot gives, and the garment drops away while the belt stays on.
His cock is already hard, rising thick and heavy between us.
It’s longer than any human man’s, the shaft a deep, shimmering bronze that darkens to indigo toward the broad, flared head.
Along the upper ridge run flexible plates of cartilage.
They are soft now, but I’m sure they stiffen and ripple when he’s fully aroused.
At the root, nestled just above the heavy weight of his balls, a second, slimmer shaft curves upward—shorter, slick, smooth, and already moving in tiny, eager pulses.
I wrap my fingers around the main shaft, and he hisses, hips jerking forward. The ridges shift under my palm like living things, warm and velvety.
“So powerful,” I breathe in English. I’m trembling with need, and my brain can’t remember any caveman words.
He answers by lifting me clean off the ground, hands under my thighs, and I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct.
My jumpsuit is still bunched at my hips.
He shoves it lower with impatient growls until it drops off me.
Neither of us cares. He spins and lays me down on the soft grass just outside the saucer’s hatch.
The distant surf is a steady roar behind us.
Kenz’ox follows me down, mouth crashing over mine. The kiss is fierce, with teeth and tongue and the faint taste of alien blood he hasn’t bothered to wipe away. I arch up, dragging my bare breasts against the hard bulges of his chest, and he groans into my mouth.
His hand slides between us, fingers finding me soaked. One thick digit pushes inside, and I cry out at how easily he stretches me, how ready I am. A second finger joins the first, curling, stroking, while his thumb circles my clit with devastating precision.
“Please,” I pant against his lips. “Inside. Now.”
He lines up, and the broad head nudges my entrance. The ridges catch and drag as he presses forward, one slow, relentless fraction of an inch at a time. I’m stretched wide, deliciously full, every ridge stroking sensitive places inside me until I’m trembling.
When he’s seated to the hilt, that smaller shaft settles firmly against my clit, warm and slick and already moving in tight, perfect circles.
“Oh fuck—” The words tear out of me as he draws back and thrusts again, deeper this time. The ridges ripple inside me, massaging my walls in waves. The secondary cock rubs my clit with every stroke, faster now, matching the building rhythm of his hips.
Kenz’ox buries his face in my neck, teeth grazing the tendon there, beard stroking the sensitive skin. “Woman,” he rasps. “My woman.”
I claw at his back, heels digging into the moss as he sets a hard, driving pace. Each thrust sends sparks exploding behind my eyes. The dual sensation is overwhelming, filled and rubbed and claimed in ways I never imagined.
My body is forced to stretch around the invader, and it protests in vain. Then, when it submits and stops resisting, it’s rewarded with smooth caresses from the alien features that look so scary but are so wonderful when he gets what he wants.
I’m fucking a caveman.
The climax hits me suddenly and violently. I scream his name, back bowing off the ground as pleasure crashes over me in endless waves. My inner walls clamp down on him, and the ridges seem to swell in response, locking us together.
Kenz’ox roars, hips snapping forward one final time. I feel the hot rush of his release deep inside, pulse after pulse, while the smaller shaft keeps stroking my clit through the aftershocks until I’m sobbing with overstimulation.
He collapses over me, careful to keep his weight on his elbows, breath sawing in and out of his massive chest. I cling to him, legs still wrapped around his waist, feeling the last tremors of that secondary cock fluttering against my oversensitive clit.
After a long moment he lifts his head, eyes glowing soft blue in the moonlight.
“Mine,” he says simply, voice hoarse.
I smile deliriously, boneless and utterly wrecked. “Oh sure, caveman. Yours. For now.”
- - -
Kenz’ox checks on Aker’iz and leaves the hatch open. Again, the dim light in the saucer changes when she’s in there, turning yellowish and soft. The hum is back, too. It’s as if it starts a process when Aker’iz is in here, but is not convinced enough to go all the way.
It should mean something. I should be able to figure it out. How alive is that thing? How active? Is it waiting for something?
Well, maybe. Right now I’m too relaxed and too flooded with sweet oxytocin to feel any urgency.
Kenz’ox stokes the fire and starts to make some skewers again.
According to Cora, that’s the most common way to prepare meat in the tribes, too.
It’s the closest they get to fast food. She gave us a good few recipes that I have partly committed to memory, and at some point I’ll make a decent stew. But not right now.
I glance over at him. He senses it and looks right back. The little smile on his face is so boyishly happy and shy that I kind of melt.
“You’re a good father,” I tell him. “Always thinking of Aker’iz. Protecting.”
“I don’t always think of her,” he says with a little smile.
“But most of the time. She’s my baby. My child.
In the tribe, many times the boys are raised not by their fathers, but by the whole tribe.
Especially the younger boys by the older ones, those who don’t have to go hunting.
But when the tribe allowed me the use of the Lifegiver, I knew I would take care of my son myself.
Of course, I would let him play with the others and learn from the other men as well, but he would sleep in my hut and keep his things there.
I wanted to train him with the sword long before the Stripening.
I would make a small sword for him, too.
I had the iron piece in my hut, ready to turn into a blunt blade when I thought he could swing it.
The trick with a sword isn’t the edge! It’s the weight.
Learn how to use the weight, and the edge will take care of itself. And now… well.”
I don’t think he’s told anyone this before, and it makes me feel flattered. “You can teach Aker’iz to use the sword, too,” I tell him. “Her sword must be small, but also deadly.”
He puts two skewers over the fire. “Oh, I will. I wasn’t sure how girls are.
I thought that perhaps they could never use swords, or they would not want to.
But I see how you use the spear, and now I’m sure that women make great warriors.
It makes me wonder how it was possible for the Plood to bring you here when you didn’t want to. ”
I stretch my legs out in front of me and lean back on the big rock.
“It was night. On Earth, my planet. I was sleeping. Well, almost sleeping. I was doing something we call reading, but there is no reading on Xren. Except for the letters on Aker’iz’s mug.
The Plood ships came. Ruined the house and took me.
And others, too. Many women were taken. It was fast and… terrible.”
I close my eyes as I think back to that night when my life was completely destroyed. I try to avoid it, but my dreams are full of it.
“Terrible Plood,” Kenz’ox seethes. “Servants of the Darkness.”
“They took me from Earth and went to a place in the stars. A space station.” I don’t think there’s a term for that in his language. “Many things happened there.”
“Bad things?” He doesn’t look up, but there’s a calm concern in his voice.