2
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Myla
As the wolf races off, I chase after him, staying a good distance behind. Not that I could catch up to him if I tried—he’s a wolf !
Running as fast as my legs will carry me, I try to catch glimpses of tan fur...anything to show me the way.
This cave feels endless! I race down one passageway after another. It’s large, like an entire underground city. Running through another opening/door, I come to a screeching halt and almost fall flat on my face. Ten sets of beady eyes swivel in my direction. Eight of them are on the other side of a glass wall, while two of them are trying to secure the clawed alien to a floating sterile metal table even as he fights them every step of the way.
It’s him!
Staring for a second or two, I see anger cross his handsome face with large canine teeth dropping over his lower lip, and I know he’s the one I’ve been wanting to see. When did they take him from the cage? Shaking myself back to reality, I quickly glance around again.
“Shit! I’m in a lab!” I heave aloud. It’s been a long time since I’ve had real exercise, and my legs and lungs are burning.
The clawed guy on the table uses the temporary distraction to his advantage. His foot shoots out and he kicks the Acradidia in the round part of its body—I’m guessing the stomach—and then scrambles off the table.
A quick smile ghosts my lips before I spin around and run.
My arms prickle and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Someone is chasing after me! My heart beats in my throat as fear propels me to run faster, arms pumping at my sides. I am running as if my life depends on it—’cause it does.
Suddenly I’m lifted from my feet and thrown over a giant shoulder. A scream tears from my throat, and a large hand swats my ass.
“Quiet!” he hisses forcefully.
My temper flares but I clamp my mouth shut. He’s not Acradidia and he’s running much faster than I can.
When I raise my head, I see several guards chasing after us.
“They’re right behind us!” I yell and to my surprise, he picks up speed.
“Hang on,” he half growls, leaping through the air, grabbing onto rock bars, and climbing straight up, with me still slung over his shoulder.
“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind!” I tightly wrap my arms around his waist, my cheek resting on his ass. It’s all I can do just to hang on.
Metal hits metal as he tosses the grate covering away… clang, clink… it bounces twice before he leaps out, jostling me in the process.
“Easy!” I demand, scared shitless and not wanting to hit the ground face first.
I already have a bruise on my shoulder from earlier. He either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care as he sprints away in a flat-out dead run.
I want to look up again but I’m too afraid to loosen my grip. Clicking and screeching sounds become loud and incessant, and I conjure an image of a hundred Acradidia chasing after us.
The repugnant smell of mold and dampness makes my noise twitch. Finally gathering a slither of courage, I chance it and lift my head to look around.
My breath hitches as I see the strange-looking city full of Acradidia , all dispassionately staring after us. Tall three- and four-story octagon mud-colored buildings with vines crawling up the sides surround us. A glaring orange sun streams between gray clouds, making it very bright as they drip water. Not actually raining, it feels like a leaky faucet with the occasional drip, drip, drip, into puddles. Mold climbs alongside the vines; it’s a bright, wet, dreary and overly humid place that makes my skin crawl.
The guy carrying me doesn’t slow even for a moment. I don’t even care where we’re going—as far as I’m concerned, anywhere is better than here.
The buildings dwindle and I can smell the air drying out, even as sweat beads my forehead. The clicking noise totally disappears, and I take my first deep breath. Now, if I can just get him to put me down…hanging upside down is giving me a headache.
The guy carrying me finally slows, then eventually stops, setting me on my feet. A wave of dizziness descends and I grab at his muscular arm to steady myself.
He jerks away as though my touch burns him, which pisses me off a little.
After a couple of minutes, my headache fades. I take my first look around. It’s desolate and barren—even the ground looks dead with its light brown covering. I wouldn’t exactly call it dirt, nor grass, more like dry mud or hard slush. Probably nutrient deprived. It appears that nothing could grow in this desolate place.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” I finally say.
His eyes shift my way but he doesn’t respond.
“I’m Myla,” I offer.
Nothing.
Okay, maybe he’s not the talking type. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m saying…no wait, he spoke to me earlier…God I’m so confused.
Glancing over this planet, it’s miles and miles of flat land, almost desert-like. I wonder where we can hide, what we can find to eat.
Those nutrient blend bars (at least I hope that’s what they were) the Acradidia gave me once a day just didn’t cut it. Not only did they taste like thick chalky paste, I could never stomach enough of them to actually get full.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see his eyes are shut and wrinkles line his forehead. He looks like he’s hurting.
Or needs to take a shit , I think with a tiny smile.
I walk in slow tight circles, trying to see if something might be physically wrong with him.
Standing at almost six and a half feet tall, his skin color is light blue (maybe grayish blue?), making him strikingly unique. The half-wolfish form makes him appear animalistic as shaggy black hair frames his face. Pointed ears twitch independently as he stands with corded arms folded across a muscled chest. Hard ridges run down his back, as though something is trying to burst from his skin. Tuffs of blue hair spread across his shoulders and down his outer legs, which are bent oddly at the knees.
This is the clawed guy who drew my attention as he paced the cage.
As a young girl I’d always had a fascination with werewolves, but I never expected to be standing so close to the alien equivalent on some desolate and dangerous world…
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I ask softly, “What are you?”
His eyes fly open and pierce me with a dark ebony gaze—half animal, half machine. If I stare long enough, I can see sparks igniting.
Stumbling back, I gasp just a little. His lip peels back in a low growl bubbling from his throat, and I get my second look at powerful canine teeth. They’re a little bigger than my dog Henry’s, and a lot sharper.
Something inside me shifts, something instinctual, an aggression that rises up to meet his own, just as it had earlier with the wolf. Stepping forward, chest thrust out, hands balled into fists at my side, I snarl.
“Stop growling at me!”
To my surprise, his upper lip slides back over his teeth, and I relax a little.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping back. I glance around before my eyes shift back to him. “Why are your eyes closed again?”
Given our dire circumstances, his behavior seems a little strange and I really don’t like it.
“The harsh sun hurts my eyes,” he rumbles, startling me.
He’s naked except for the loose white shorts he sports on slender hips.
Would it be acceptable to make a blindfold with them? Let him roam naked in front of me?
I smile just thinking about it, even though I would never do such a thing. If any man—Human or alien—stood naked in front of me, I would die of embarrassment.
Searching for something suitable to cover his eyes is frustrating at best. There are no vines or foliage of any kind. I debate internally, arguing the pros and cons of giving up my own clothing. Finally, I rip the bottom half of my dirty, brown sack dress. It worries me at how easily I can tear the fabric.
“Bend down.” He cracks one weary eye open, peeking at me, then complies with the order.
I step forward to secure the cloth around his face. When my hand brushes his temple, some type of energy, a spark, sets my heart galloping. I feel it all the way to my core, and I want him.
Any other time, I’d jump his bones and—
I freeze, a small breath hissing from between my teeth before I slowly continue to secure the cloth around his eyes.
Those thoughts are not mine. Normally, I’m shy, a loner, and slightly obsessed with the animals on our farm, or buried in a book. I don’t jump bones (not that I’ve really had the chance).
Before I step away, he grabs my wrist, holding it firmly in place. The air tenses, electrifies, my chest heaves up and down. When his nostrils flare, I can tell he’s just as affected as me. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t move, can’t exhale as I hold my breath. I can’t tear my gaze away from his full gray lips as they part slightly, revealing a moist pink tongue. He inhales deeply. Then suddenly a growl rumbles from his chest and I’m shoved to the side, landing on hands and knees.
What the hell?
Glancing back over my shoulder, he springs into motion and stares down a tan wolf with black eyes, even through the blindfold. The same wolf creature who escaped earlier, giving me the chance to run.
Franticly glancing between the two of them, almost physically reeling from the sheer violence they’re both radiating, my heart pounds with excitement as they posture. My lips curl into a smile, and then I frown.
What the hell is wrong with me? I cry in silent horror. I’m not the violent type! At least, I never used to be…
And yet, standing here, waiting for combat to ensue, I feel an alien but distinct thrill of pleasure up my spine and the heat of… desire... between my legs. I want to see them fight, and nothing my rational, original self says in protest is able to push these unfamiliar sensations away.
Suddenly my light blue grayish man-wolf rescuer tears off the blindfold and hunches down like an animal, one hand on the ground between his bent knees, a feral look on his face as his lips pull back, baring all of his teeth, his eyes murderous.
I don’t understand why they are about to fight as my eyes shift between the two of them, but my heart thumps hard from excitement.