Caveman Alien’s Heat (Caveman Aliens #29)

Chapter 1

- Nator’ax -

“There they are,” a boy whispers.

I turn despite myself.

I shouldn’t. My duty is to watch the men, not the women. Chief Korr’ax put me here for a reason. But every man in the village is looking, and for a moment I am no better than the rest of them.

The two new women descend the carved steps of the Red Mountain, and something changes in the air as they do.

At first glance, they look much the same as the other women from the alien planet Earth: small, round, and soft. And while they look different from us, they also have something about them that makes it impossible to look away.

I know their names, of course. Morgan and Riley. Strange, alien names that are hard to pronounce. One step at a time, they descend the stairs along with Cora, who is married to Sprisk the Foundling, and Bryar, who is married to Korr’ax, our chief.

I turn and check on the crowd. I can’t allow myself to be distracted.

I’m guarding the steps leading up to the Red Mountain, where all the women live.

Chief Korr’ax trusts me to keep these women safe.

And I will. He accepted me as a member of the Borok tribe, despite me coming from another tribe that I found weak and pitiful.

I turn to face Sprisk, who’s accompanying the women. “Where will they be going?”

“I will give them a tour of the village,” Sprisk says, scanning the tribesmen behind me. “And I would like for them to feel that this is a safe place, where none may stare or approach without invitation.”

“The staring part may be difficult,” I tell him. “But the other thing I can help with.”

He gives me a tight smile. “I have no doubt, warrior.”

He leads the four women down to the ground, and I take a few steps towards the crowd of tribesmen, letting my eyes do the talking.

None of them try to get closer to the women.

Some of them return to their various activities, and I take note of those who have the greatest trouble tearing their gaze away from the females.

I follow the group at a distance, allowing only the curious boys to pass. They are just harmlessly curious and not a danger.

Tribesman Fres’ox falls into step with me, the irox claws in his necklace rattling. “Hoping one of them will be yours, Nator’ax?”

“Chief Korr’ax asked me to help guard the women,” I growl. “That’s all I’m doing. The obvious fact that they need guarding says more about our tribe than I like.”

“Oh, but it’s a nice duty, isn’t it? You may follow them like this, watching them from close up.

You may even climb the stairs and check on them from time to time.

Whereas most of us are pushed to the back, pushed aside.

We, who have lived in this tribe our whole lives.

While you, who came in from the jungle tribeless, may use force to keep us away.

One gets the feeling the chief would push us out of the village entirely, if only nobody bothers these precious things. ”

“Don’t speak more about the chief,” I warn him. “You know he sets the tribe above all else.”

“Does he? Some would say he sets alien women, Foundlings, and other tribes above the Borok tribe. Even now I’m not allowed to walk anywhere I want in the village.

Before the women, any man might climb the stairs to the plateau and enjoy the view from up there.

Men could take a cave on the Mountain to live in.

We could walk anywhere at any time. Now, the Mountain is owned by others.

They have even set their mark on it.” He glares at the foot of the rock, to the very center of the tribe, where Bryar painted a great picture of Piper on the tribe’s holy white wall.

“Times change,” I tell him. “And we must change with the times. The Borok tribe is admired like never before. We have better food than ever, we’re never attacked by Bigs or other tribes, we don’t need to hunt as much as before.

When was the last time one of our men died hunting?

Before, there were at least two every year.

That has changed. But you don’t think of that, only pointing to changes that you think are bad. ”

“It’s not only me saying this,” Fres’ox says. “It’s everyone. Our tribe has two types of men, Nator’ax. There are the married men, who can do whatever they want and have soft women to share their cave. And then there’s the rest of us, who sleep alone. You’re in that group, too.”

“My group is the Borok tribe,” I tell him tightly. “And that should be yours, too.”

“All I know is that we never had the Darkness in the tribe before, no dragons. And certainly never any of those Plood ships. They say there’s a Plood inside it, a live one.

And they say that all the white bulbs that suddenly grow all over the jungle are Plood that will soon come alive.

Do you like that change?” He turns and saunters off.

“Silly nonsense,” I snort as the group of women inspect one of the forges. They speak quickly with their bright voices.

My gaze moves over them, as every man’s does.

There’s a dark-haired one. But I don’t know which one she is, Morgan or Riley. She gestures toward the glowing iron with excitement, her hands fluttering as if the words cannot leave her mouth fast enough.

But the other one catches my eye more.

She doesn’t speak as much. Instead, she watches and sometimes smiles when an eager boy wants to explain something.

Her pale eyes move across the village like a hunter studying unfamiliar ground.

She takes in everything: the forge, the men, the huts, the jungle beyond the palisade. Nothing escapes her.

Then her gaze lifts.

It finds me immediately, as if she knew where I stood all along.

I go still, and for a moment, I forget the men behind me, forget my duty, forget why I am here at all. I meet her gaze, and something tightens in my chest.

I give her a short, controlled smile and force myself to turn away.

The crowd has thinned, but those that are left are very interested.

It doesn’t look like any of them are going to do anything silly, though.

I relax a fraction and think about what I’ll do when the women return to their caves and another tribesman takes over watching the stairs.

Perhaps I’ll go outside the gate and see if the men from other tribes that have set up camp there have some new foods to try, or maybe there’s someone I can play krok with.

I’ve beaten everyone in this tribe, so nobody wants to play.

But at the same time, I must keep my distance.

Those men aren’t there for fun. They know we have women, and they’re just waiting for a chance to abduct and marry one.

I turn back around and enjoy the sight of the women walking over to the new ‘windmill’ that will be used for some mysterious purpose. Well, those men—they won’t succeed—

There’s movement off to the side. Young Vort’iz is walking towards the women with determined steps and his gaze fixed on them.

I walk fast to intercept him before he can get that far. He’s an impulsive and reckless young man, just four years beyond his Stripening. Whatever he has in mind now, I want to be close.

Sprisk notices too late.

Vort’iz reaches out and touches the dark-haired one. “Morgan, your hair,” he says in a hoarse voice. “Is it really—”

I’m close enough to pounce, and I seize his wrist, pulling his hand away from her.

“We don’t touch,” I say quietly.

The yard goes silent.

Vort’iz bares his teeth in anger, yanking his arm out of my grip. “They are women. Aliens!”

I place myself between him and the women. “We still don’t touch. The chief has ordered it.”

He glares at me. “The chief is married,” he spits. “Who will get to marry these two new ones? If we are always kept away? Yes, I know you want it, Nator’ax, the blue-striped outtriber! But we all want it! And we are real Borok tribesmen!”

“Indeed you are,” I say soothingly, conscious that the women are watching. “But the women will decide who to marry, if they ever will marry at all. It’s their choice. The chief says so.”

He glares. “Their choice?! But they are two small women! We are a full tribe of big men! They should decide nothing!”

Sprisk leads the group further away, back towards the steps. “We’re done with the tour, I think.”

The woman who must be Riley gives me a long look and a little smile that lights up my mind.

“If you disagree with the chief’s decision, tell him,” I suggest mildly to Vort’iz. “But I have promised him that I will protect the women and that I will not try to abduct any of them. Would you make me break my word?”

“I wasn’t going to abduct her,” he mutters. “Just touch her and feel her softness. Smell her.”

“Well, don’t. Come, I will show you an interesting trick in krok…”

“Keep your stupid game, blue-striper.” He stalks away, rubbing his wrist and muttering to himself.

Around us, the tribesmen begin to move again, their voices low and uneasy.

The women are already climbing the stairs back to the Red Mountain, Sprisk urging them along. The pale-eyed Riley glances back once before she disappears among the rocks.

I tell myself that I am only watching because it is my duty to make sure they reach the stairs safely.

But as the murmurs spread through the village like wind through dry grass, I cannot shake the feeling that I was more right than I thought about things changing.

The whole tribe has changed. And it’s too soon to say if it’s a good change or one that will tear everything apart.