Page 7 of Aliens Snared My Heart (Awakened Womb #3)

7 / Paz

After eating a fruit breakfast that Kur’tok declined to join, my captor gave me a tour of his territory. Unlike the Maeleon village, Kur’tok took his residence by a cozy waterfall beneath a thicket of exotic trees. He lived alone, except for the two other Maeleons he called “underlings” and his pets, Kookee and now me.

I wanted a chance to talk to Arr’tow and Haz’rull, but Kur’tok whisked me away before I could get a word in. I didn’t recognize them from the village, and they’d clearly never seen a human before, so I wanted to know their deal. Were they the young Maeleons on a quest that Zat’tor mentioned? Why did they leave? Was Kur’tok keeping them captive, too?

My grouchy captor stomped around the place, showing me the boundaries of his territory—words I’d never heard a Maeleon say before.

“You will never go past here,” Kur’tok said, pointing to a loose ring of bright blue flowers on the ground. They formed a vague circle around Kur’tok’s waterfall area. “In fact, you will never wander around on your own. You’ll only be by my side. Understood?”

I had a feeling that “rule” was flexible. My interactions with Kur’tok so far proved he was easier to communicate with than I’d anticipated. I already got him to admit fault once, and that was half the battle. I felt like a pushy salesman—once I got my foot in the door, I could sweet-talk my way with him. Probably.

“So, I’ve basically got no agency anymore,” I said. “Got it.”

Kur’tok growled, his feelers rising like steam. “Are you making fun of me, flesh-bag?”

I gave him an angelic smile. “Not at all. I’m just repeating what you said in different terms.”

Grunting, he swept around and trudged back towards the waterfall. He clutched my leash loosely in his fist. At least he didn’t have a heavy hand. My experience as an alien’s captive could’ve been much worse.

But I couldn’t stay here forever. Kur’tok wasn’t horrible—honestly, he was pretty cute, in a weird way—but I needed to get back to the village. Were Levi and Jaeyoung worried about me? What about Zat’tor and Linn’ar? Did they even care about their mates’ friend, or was I just window-dressing to them?

The thought filled me with melancholy. I wanted to be special to people. I wanted to be liked. Was that so much to ask?

“Why do you frown again?” Kur’tok demanded.

Man, he was in tune with my feelings, wasn’t he? I’d never been great at hiding my emotions, but Kur’tok picked up on them instantly.

“Just thinking about the village,” I replied.

Kur’tok scowled. His feelers flashed a deep red, bordering on purple. “Forget it,” he snapped. “You are somewhere better now.”

It was sweet how he tried to make me feel better in his caveman-ish way. But I shook my head. “I can’t forget my friends that easily. I’m not some pet rock you found on the ground. I’m a living, breathing person. I have memories and bonds and all that jazz.”

Kur’tok’s tail jerked back and forth like a frustrated cat. His shoulders squared tensely and he looked like he wanted to bark orders at me, but restrained himself.

“You annoy me with your flapping mouth, human,” Kur’tok grumbled. “At least Kookee can’t talk.”

“Gee, thanks. That really makes me want to stay more.”

A flicker of fear crossed Kur’tok’s red eyes. Was he worried I’d try to escape? I couldn’t exactly go anywhere with a collar around my neck, but Kur’tok still seemed nervous.

He stepped closer, his massive alien body dwarfing mine. He worked his jaw for a moment, then barked, “What do you like, prey-pet?”

I blinked. Was he trying to make me feel better about being his captive?

“Let’s see... I like relaxing and eating. Oh, and sleeping,” I said.

Kur’tok furrowed his scaly brow in confusion. “You have already done those things. What else? You said you need sex?”

A blush exploded across my cheeks. I didn’t expect him to bring that up, but I guess openness about sex was common across all Maeleons—even Kur’tok, the black sheep of his culture.

“N-not at this very second,” I said.

“Why not? You ate, slept, and relaxed,” Kur’tok growled. “This is the final thing you need.”

My temperature blasted off into the sky. I mean, he wasn’t technically wrong. That was the only remaining thing on the list of needs I’d given him.

But sex didn't solve the whole I-need-to-return-to-the-village issue. Bringing that up now didn’t seem helpful, though. I didn’t know why, but Kur’tok thought his secret waterfall hideout was better than the village. Did something bad happen to him there?

My curiosity was tempered by my wisdom. It was too early to pry. Obviously, Kur’tok didn’t fully trust me yet. He still eyed me like I’d float away forever if he didn’t keep 100% of his laser focus on me.

I recalled the hundreds of icebreakers I’d participated in during my diplomat training. I was no stranger to making fast friends—or at least allies. What Kur’tok and I needed was a mutual activity. And although I was a horny bastard, I didn’t want to be plowed right now. It had to be a fun, low-stakes exercise we could both participate in...

“Hey, I have an idea,” I suggested. “Why don’t we brush Kookee?”

Kur’tok’s tail flicked. He seemed pleasantly surprised at my suggestion. “Yes, we can do that.” He tilted his head in an oddly cute gesture. “Are you sure you don’t want sex?”

“Maybe later,” I said. “Besides, if I’m your pet, I’d better get to know your other pet, you know?”

He grunted thoughtfully. “Yes. That is true. Come.”

Kur’tok led me back to camp. Was it my imagination, or did he have a spring in his step? I wondered if my offer had eased his worries about my potential flight. I doubted he’d loosen the leash—figuratively speaking—until he completely trusted me not to run off. Maybe once I’d earned it, he’d let me visit the village of his own free will.

I followed Kur’tok like an obedient little lamb as he fetched a huge brush from his den. Meanwhile, I grabbed another fruit from the pile. I had a sneaking suspicion that Kookee might enjoy a juicy snack more than Kur’tok thought.

As we left the den, I saw Arr’tow and Haz’rull cowering by the exit. I felt bad for them. They looked like a pair of whipped goons in a movie. But once again, we didn’t have a chance to chat. Kur’tok ignored the pair as he stomped towards his knotted root throne.

Kookee the pandar was fast asleep. Its huge shaggy flank rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and it snored louder than an engine. I peeked at what I assumed was the head. It was long and sloped like a horse’s but with floppy ears that covered its wide-set eyes. Its cloven hooves splayed awkwardly underneath it, like Kookee had lain down lazily and never bothered to fix it.

“My precious Kookee,” Kur’tok said. His expression softened as he stroked the beast’s fur. It was the polar opposite of his face when he snarled at his underlings. I didn’t realize he could appear so gentle.

“Can I pet it?” I asked.

Kur’tok’s feelers floated like a puff of cloud, clearly happy I’d asked. “Yes.”

I reached out tentatively, not sure what to expect. Aside from the Maeleons and insectoids, Kookee was the first real alien species I’d met on Eukaria. For all I knew, it could’ve bitten my hand clean off. But Kur’tok trusted his pet, so I felt safe doing the same.

I petted Kookee’s fur. It was as coarse and prickly as it looked, but not totally unpleasant to touch. It reminded me of a big dog with a wiry coat. The blanket made of its fur felt about the same.

“It’s bristly,” I said.

Kur’tok made a grumpy noise as he glanced downward. He seemed embarrassed. “Pandar are known for their fine, silky fur. But Kookee’s fur has never been soft.”

“Maybe it just needs to be brushed?” I suggested. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Kur’tok handed me the brush. “Hmph. I already brush Kookee, but maybe your tiny human hands will make a difference.”

“You never know until you try.”

The brush was huge—proportionally Kookee-sized. It was carved from wood with a sleek and sturdy design.

“Hey, did you make this, Kur’tok?” I asked, hefting it in my hand.

“Of course I did,” he grumbled. “How else was I going to brush Kookee?”

My brows rose in surprise. “Wow, you’re talented. The craftsmanship is impressive.”

Kur’tok’s feelers tinged with pink. He lashed his tail as if swatting away my praise. “That is nothing. I could do better.”

I grinned. So he took pride in his work, huh? Good to know.

After getting used to the weight of the brush in my hand, I circled around Kookee’s front while combing the thick strands of fur. The beast carried the sweet smell of straw. Something about its huge stature and gentleness reminded me of a horse.

I peeked at Kookee’s long snout. Was its nose as soft as it looked? When I lightly brushed my fingers against it, I was instantly rewarded by that velvety feeling.

Kookee let out a relaxed puff from its nostrils, then followed it up with a great big inhale to fill its lungs.

Suddenly, Kookee jolted. Its head reared up and its eyes went wide.

Kur’tok rushed forward, throwing his arm protectively over my chest. “What did you do, flesh-bag?”

“I just touched its nose,” I explained.

Kookee thrust its snout closer to me, sniffing wildly. Its nostrils twitched faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

“What are you doing?” Kur’tok asked the pandar.

The beast snorted. It tossed its snout, then inched forward, like it was trying to bury its nose in the crook of my arm.

“Oh!” I cried, suddenly realizing why. I raised the fruit I’d picked up earlier. “Is this what you want?”

Kur’tok’s eyes flashed. He snatched the fruit from my hand. “What? Why do you have this?” he demanded angrily. “Kookee can’t eat fruit!”

“How do you know?” I asked.

Kur’tok furrowed his brow and curled his lip. He lifted the fruit high out of my reach so I couldn’t jump and grab it. “Don’t argue with me, human. I know my own pet better than you.”

I crossed my arms, nodding up at the fruit. “Well, Kookee seems to want it.”

“No, it—hey!” Kur’tok yoinked the fruit out of Kookee’s path at the last second as the great beast’s flat teeth clamped down on empty air. “Don’t do that.”

Kookee bellowed in frustration.

“No, you can’t have it,” Kur’tok argued with the beast. “It’s bad for you.”

I had my doubts about that. I knew Eukaria was a different planet and all, but Kookee resembled herbivores back on Earth with its blunt teeth and hooves. I had a hunch it was perfectly safe for it to eat fruit.

“Kur’tok,” I began, “do you only feed Kookee meat?”

He puffed out his broad chest. “Only the bloodiest,” he stated proudly.

While we talked, Kookee gazed longingly at the fruit in Kur’tok’s clutches. I’d only been here for a day, but it was the most animated I’d seen Kookee.

“You said pandar are supposed to have silky fur, right?” I said. “Is it possible... the meat’s making Kookee sick?”

“What?” Kur’tok roared. Horror and outrage blazed in his ruby eyes. “I would never harm Kookee!”

The intensity of his reaction caught me off guard. He looked terrified at the implication. I felt bad for making him feel that way, so I put my hand on his arm to reassure him.

“I know you’d never do it on purpose,” I pointed out gently. “But sometimes people make mistakes.”

Kur’tok curled his lip high enough to reveal an entire row of fangs. “No. I don’t make mistakes.”

“Ever?”

Baring all his teeth, he exclaimed, “No!”

Why was he getting so defensive? It was out of character for a Maeleon, but then again, Kur’tok wasn’t like other Maeleons.

He almost acted like... a human.

Kur’tok held the fruit above his head while arguing with me. He didn’t notice Kookee creeping forward. It silently unfurled its long tongue and captured the fruit like a chameleon snatching a fly from midair.

“Don’t you contest me, human,” Kur’tok ranted, still heated. “I know what’s best for all my pets. That includes you and—” He suddenly stopped, then grumbled, “Why is my hand covered in slobber?”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. Kur’tok’s clueless expression while Kookee licked its lips was just too funny.

“What?” Kur’tok asked at my stifled laughter.

“Um... the fruit’s gone,” I pointed out.

Kur’tok whipped towards Kookee—who looked incredibly satisfied—and gasped. “Kookee! You didn’t eat that wretched thing, did you?”

Kookee snorted from its nostrils and nosed Kur’tok affectionately, as if searching for more tasty fruits. Kur’tok grunted and patted the beast. It was obvious he couldn’t stay annoyed at his pet.

“Your fruit better not make Kookee sick,” he warned me.

“I hope not,” I agreed. “But look how happy it is.”

As the beast nuzzled Kur’tok, his deep frown faded. He closed his eyes and sighed wistfully, stroking Kookee’s snout. He didn’t say it out loud, but I knew he only wanted Kookee to be healthy and happy. The momentary scare—and my accusation that he’d accidentally harmed his pet—stressed him out. Despite my good intentions, I felt guilty. I wanted to make it up to him.

“Hey, Kur’tok,” I said, gesturing to the calm pool at the base of the waterfall. “Why don’t we relax for a while?”

His red eyes raked slowly over my body. “Yes. Let us.”