Chapter 7 Brux
brUX
Brux was elated. Finally, he was home with his mate! He had never seen or smelled any place like this new land but it was absolutely perfect. Then again, any place would have been perfect with her.
He looked lovingly at his new mate. Kiera was so beautiful, he couldn’t help himself–he wanted to look at her and smell her all the time. Luckily, she seemed to feel the same way about him.
“Come on boy–let’s go home,” she remarked as she looped an arm around his neck and stroked his fur. Her touch was pure ecstasy to Brux–every brush of her soft fingers through his fur made him shiver with joy.
Surely the Goddess was smiling on him, he thought, as he walked by his new mate’s side through the beautiful, good—smelling new world. After so many long months of sorrow and loneliness, she had turned her face towards him and sent him the most beautiful woman in all the universe to care for him.
And also, for him to protect. He could smell the scent of some strange and dangerous predators wafting on the cool breeze. They appeared to be restrained, but Brux still didn’t like them being anywhere near his mate.
However, he was beginning to get the idea that she was the caretaker to all the animals he had seen on their walk around the compound. This must be her job–her calling. But why was there no one else with her, helping her?
As though she’d read his mind, Kiera started talking.
“Well, boy–I hope you like it here. I know I love it–even if it does get a little lonely sometimes,” she said, ruffling his fur. “Until we get the sanctuary completely finished and staffed, it’s just me and the work—bots.”
She nodded at a silver—skinned, bipedal bot that was moving a large bale of some purple, dry, grass—like material into an enclosure filled with tiny, squeaking creatures that appeared to be rodents of some kind with pastel fur and huge, floppy ears.
The work—bot moved with slow, methodical precision–clearly it didn’t have much brainpower behind it.
Speaking of brainpower, Brux could feel his increasing by the minute.
Every bit of sentience and intelligence that had leaked away in the long months after he’d lost his first mate was returning to him.
The more Kiera touched him and talked to him, the more he understood her.
She was literally restoring his mind with her kindness and her love.
Though he knew it would take some time to get his bipedal form back, Brux didn’t mind waiting. As long as he could be close to her, he was content to stay in his animal form.
He still retained a lot of his animal instincts, though. For instance, when he saw movement in the tall, chiming reeds near the edge of the petting—zoo perimeter, every primitive instinct inside him snapped tight as a bowstring.
Something pale and spiny was rising out of the lavender grass cover—it moved too fast for Brux to really see it and for one terrible heartbeat, it looked like a predator rearing up to strike.
Brux’s hackles lifted. His lips peeled back from his teeth in an instinctive snarl. The creature made a sharp, rasping hiss that sounded far too much like a threat, and when it moved again, its body didn’t look like any harmless herbivore he’d ever encountered.
It was round and squat, about the size of a large canine, but it was covered in stiff, white quills that flared outward like a crown. Worse, its eyes glowed a sickly yellow—green, and along its back were ridges that looked like serrated blades.
It smelled wrong too–sickly sweet and half—rotten. Oh yes–it was a threat. His mind went into primitive protective mode at once.
Danger. Near. Her.
No!
Brux didn’t think—he acted. He bounded forward, putting himself between Kiera and the threat in a single leap, shoulders lowered, teeth bared–ready to take the first strike meant for her. His paws hit the spongy ground, and the silver—threaded plants gave under his weight as he charged.
Behind him, he heard Kiera’s voice, sounding surprisingly calm.
“Hey—wait a minute!” she called.
But Brux was already moving. His only thought was protect her, protect her, protect her! Because she was his. His mate. His woman. The one who had pulled him out of a cage and promised him a home.
He aimed himself at the creature, expecting it to lunge.
Instead, it puffed up.
With a loud WHUMPF, the spiny thing expanded, doubling in size in an instant. Its quills spread outward, and its ridges rose, making it look even more terrifying—like a living land mine. It hissed again, and its eyes flared brighter.
Brux skidded to a stop so hard his claws dug into the ground cover.
Goddess—what is that?
For a second, he was sure it was about to explode or spit poison or fling needles into Kiera’s soft skin.
He snapped at it—more warning than bite—and the creature immediately puffed even more, wobbling on its stubby legs as if offended.
But it didn’t change any more or attack–it just sat there, inflated and hissing.
Confusion flickered through Brux’s mind. His nose twitched. What was this thing? What were its intentions? Why was it just sitting there? Why–?
Suddenly the thing jumped out of the grass, launching itself at Kiera.
With a growl, Brux dived at it…only to see it vanish in a puff of white powder.
“No, don’t! Watch out!” he heard Kiera shout behind him.
But it was too late–his paws came straight down in the middle of what he thought was just another patch of meadow…only the “meadow” vanished beneath him.
There was no time to recover. Brux yelped—an undignified, startled sound that ripped out of his throat before he could stop it—and then he plunged straight down into cold, slick water.
Purple and silver algae slapped against his face and neck like wet cloth. It clung to him instantly, coating his fur in a heavy, slimy layer that felt wrong—thick, cold, and horribly sticky.
He kicked and scrambled, flailing like an inexperienced pup, and burst back up, coughing and sputtering as he fought his way out of the hidden pool. He hauled himself out, dripping and shocked, his legs wobbling as he stood on the edge of the strange, mini—lake, staring down at it mistrustfully.
As he looked, he saw what he should have noted before–there was a purple and silver algae layer floating on top of the water which had camouflaged it perfectly. The surface of it looked exactly like the surrounding plants—only darker and more saturated.
“Oh my God–just look at you!”
Kiera’s voice cut through his confusion, and he looked up to see her shaking her head. For a heartbeat, he feared she would be angry—he had embarrassed himself, made a mess, probably scared her.
But then her lips twitched…her eyes widened with disbelief…and she burst out laughing.
“Don’t you look a mess?” she exclaimed, when she finished.
“Those little holes are what I call ‘camo—lakes,’ because the algae camouflages them and you don’t notice until you step right in.
Oh, and that big scary puff—ball that led you into it was a fooster.
Completely harmless, by the way–they just act like that if they think someone is going to step on them. ”
Brux liked that she was talking to him like he was a person and not just her new pet, but he had other things on his mind at the moment–like staring down at his own body in horrified disbelief.
He was…purple.
Not just wet…not just muddy…but actually purple and silver streaked, as if someone had painted him with shimmering slime. The algae was matting his thick fur into clumps, making him look ridiculous—like some kind of demented festival mascot. And it felt absolutely horrible.
The intense sensations caused his mind to revert back momentarily to its more primal form.
Wrong…bad…no!
He shook his head hard, trying to fling the stuff off his face, but the only result was clumps of sodden fur slapping wetly against his ears. Panic sparked through him.
Get it off. Get it off. Get it OFF.
He stumbled toward Kiera, wanting her—needing her—because she was safe and familiar and she would know what to do. His paws squelched. The algae dripped in strings from his ruff and belly. He tried to lick it, but it tasted foul—bitter and metallic and yet oddly sweet, like spoiled fruit.
He gagged and spat, feeling his stomach roll. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Kiera stood a few paces away, staring at him with her hands braced on her hips. When she saw him coming, she held out her hands, palms up.
“Now hold on a second! Just wait…don’t–”
But it was too late–Brux was already shaking himself vigorously all over.
He couldn’t help it. The urge to shake was primal—automatic—wired into every cell of his body. The horrible algae clung and pulled at his fur, weighing him down, chilling his skin beneath. He shook harder–the way he would shake off rain or snow.
At last his shaking had an effect–purple algae went flying, getting everywhere–including all over Kiera.
It spattered across her sweater, dotted her braids, and painted her cheeks and forearms with glittery violet streaks. A fat blob even slapped onto her shoulder and slowly slid down leaving a shimmering trail of slime.
Brux froze mid—shake, suddenly aware of what he had done.
Oh, no! I got her dirty! I ruined her clothes–got dirt in her hair! What’s wrong with me? Why did I do that? Now, she’ll hate me!
He lowered his head, ears flattening in shame. He tucked his tail between his hind legs and whined miserably, waiting for her angry reaction. Would she take him back to the cage now? Would she abandon him–lock him up and never return, leaving him there to slowly lose his mind and die?
The thought of losing her hit him like a blow. He was still too fragile. Too newly restored. Her touch had been bringing his mind back, piece by piece—if she withdrew all that would change. He could feel the darkness waiting at the edges again…that creeping fog of feral emptiness he dreaded.
He wished desperately he could speak to her.
I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t stop. It was instinct. I just wanted it off me. Please don’t be mad. Please don’t send me away.
But Kiera didn’t smell angry. At least, he didn’t think she did.
He took a hesitant step toward her, nose twitching anxiously, trying to read her scent—was she angry? Upset? Would she push him away? Would she regret bringing him home?
Brux inhaled again. She smelled…startled, yes. A little exasperated. And then, to his surprise, he scented amusement.
Kiera looked down at the purple splattered across her front, then up at Brux’s wide, guilty eyes, and let out a long sigh that turned into another laugh.
"It's all right—those foosters do look scary, don't they? And I stumbled into several of the camo—lakes when I first got here too. Come on—I'll spray us both off and then I think it's bath time—for both of us."
Brux’s ears lifted slowly. Relief washed through him so strongly his legs nearly gave out.
She wasn’t angry…she wasn’t going to send him away. She was even making happy sounds and faces–laughing.
But not the cruel kind of laughter you hear when someone wants to hurt or make fun of you. No, he could tell that Kiera was laughing with him–not at him. It was the kind of laughter that meant you are safe. The kind of laughter that made a place feel like a home.
He chuffed softly—apology and gratitude tangled together in his emotions—and stepped closer, pressing his purple—slick shoulder against her side in a tentative nuzzle.
Kiera made a soft sound and put an arm around his neck again, despite the algae.
“It’s all right, boy–you know I can’t be mad at you,” she said, smiling.
Brux wanted to memorize that moment in time. The weight of her arm…the warm press of her body against his. The scent of her—clean skin and braided hair and the faint sweetness of her shampoo, now mixed with the sharp, minty tang of the sanctuary air and the weird metallic stink of the algae.
Somehow it was just perfect–she was perfect. His mate. His goddess.
Mine, his instincts insisted, loud and simple. She’s mine now–I know she is.
But as his mind returned, another part of him—older, aching, and still haunted—whispered that he did not deserve this. That he had already had his mate. That the Goddess only granted one.
And yet…being with Kiera felt so incredibly right. And she smelled like his mate–or like one who could be his mate if only she would Bond with him.
How could that be wrong?
Brux didn’t know–he only knew he wanted to stay near her and never let her out of his sight.
“C’mon, boy–let’s get some of this goop off before we go home.”
Kiera led him toward a low structure—something like an outdoor wash station built into the side of a utility shed.
Brux recognized it instinctively for what it was–a place to clean animals. A place to rinse away dirt and blood and whatever this purple horror was.
The work—bots had already set up hoses and sprayers, neatly coiled, with attachments that clicked and whirred when Kiera touched the controls. A warm mist puffed into the air, carrying the scent of something clean—sharp and herbal, like crushed leaves.
Brux hesitated on the threshold, suddenly wary. Water wasn’t his enemy, but being sprayed and scrubbed by strange devices was not something his pride welcomed. He glanced back toward the reeds where the “poofer” still sat, wobbling and inflated, as if offended by the entire situation.
It was harmless, he now realized–it had only been afraid. But he had run headlong into its trap like a brainless pup.
Shame prickled again, but Kiera’s hand on his ruff steadied him. Her voice was gentle—teasing and affectionate.
“Come on, big guy,” she murmured, and the words wrapped around him like a command and a caress all at once. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you track purple slime all over my home. And if you’re very, very good, I’ll let you come into the bathing pool with me.”
Brux stepped forward, resigned. Anything for her, even if it meant enduring the indignity of a bath.
And as the first warm spray hit his algae—matted fur, he closed his eyes—because her hands were in his coat again, and the pleasure of that made his returning mind flare brighter with every touch.