Page 153 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

So lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t see Fierce return until he was standing right next to me.

“Hina?” he said, just as my eyes landed on him and I jerked back in surprise.

He wore dark shades of gray that marbled across his skin, making his form nearly invisible in the dark.

I could make out a whole pile of things he was holding against his chest. When our eyes met, he gave me a nod before squatting to start piling things to the side of my fire pit.

He said nothing as he laid a few pale sticks at the bottom of the pit in a crisscross pattern and filled in some gaps with something that looked a bit like dandelion fuzz.

A moment later, he pulled out a fire bow, just a bent stick with a string—and pressed a stick into another stick, setting it spinning steadily to create friction.

I was extremely impressed; I had survival training, but this was so hardcore that I had never seen anyone do it.

I expected it to take a long time, but he had smoke billowing out from that pale stick in a short moment.

Not even ten minutes after his return, he’d created a burgeoning fire in my fire pit.

His arms flexed as he confidently made camp.

He’d done this before, a million times. Maybe not with these exact materials, but close enough that he felt comfortable with all of this.

An extreme survival nut? Or was his species not as advanced, after all?

He hadn’t looked all that comfortable working his com device; he hadn’t even looked at it until I’d pointed it out.

Once the fire was merrily crackling, I had better light to see exactly what he’d brought back for burning.

I suppressed a shiver of shock—those were bones.

Big bones, even, though he’d picked some of the smaller ones to start off with.

He’d also grabbed a long, slender bone that, with a few hacks of his ax, he’d turned into a hollow tube, which he now used to blow more oxygen into the fire.

I vaguely recalled that bones did burn—just hotter—so extra oxygen was required. He clearly knew all that.

With the caps off, we placed both metal flasks on the edge of the fire, letting them heat to a boil.

I half expected Fierce to pull some kind of caught prey from somewhere that he expected us to eat, so I was grateful when he opened his bag and offered me a packaged ration bar instead.

The wrapper was slick and metallic; I couldn’t read the label, but I had the feeling it could be heated as well.

When I placed mine near the fire, Fierce’s eyes snagged on that action and clung there for a long moment.

Then, with slow movements, he copied what I’d done.

The meal was some kind of stew that, when warmed by the fire, had turned soft and tasty.

These were certainly better rations than the ones I’d eaten when out doing fieldwork for the UAR.

I devoured mine in quick bites, not caring that I had nothing to eat it with, so I had to slurp the stuff right out of the packaging.

Fierce was copying my movements again, waiting for me to start before eating himself.

I had the distinct impression that he did not care for the taste of this stuff the way I did.

Once done, Fluffy licked the wrappers clean, then collected both in her mouth and disappeared with them back into Fierce’s bag—a little like a magpie hiding treasure in its nest. It was cute, and Fierce just watched, rolling his eyes, an indulgent smile on his face.

I had to admit it: my initial panic had landed us in this cave, in a big, stinking mess.

But I was extremely grateful that I wasn’t splattered at the bottom of that hole, but safe and sound here with Fierce.

Even if we couldn’t really hold a conversation, my chances of survival had gone from next to nothing to probable.

This alien male was well adapted for survival in harsh surroundings.

As long as he was willing to be my protector, I was going to be fine.

Now I just needed to figure out how to pull my own weight, somehow.

We curled up for sleep on either side of the fire after our meal.

I felt a little guilty for having the only blanket, but I definitely needed it to ward off the cold.

Fierce, on the other hand, hardly seemed bothered by the temperatures at all.

I thought I’d lie awake for a long time, but I was exhausted from the crash, waking from stasis, learning about the UAR’s duplicity concerning convicts… I was out like a light in moments.

*

Fierce

I was glad that I’d managed to provide fire for my female.

Now we could safely drink the water, or at least somewhat safely.

Once we got back to the Vagabond, I needed to make sure the Doc checked both of us over.

I might be a dumb savage when it came to most tech, but I knew enough about disease and parasites to know that eating anything on a foreign planet came with risks.

Checking the small form of my female where she lay curled up, I noticed that her body was trembling.

She was cold. I’d let the fire go out, not wanting to risk burning it too long and drawing attention to our location.

When I’d hunted for fuel for this fire—and maybe a source of food—I’d seen signs of a large, scaly but legless creature passing through these tunnels.

Whatever had chased us earlier, it was probably the same creature.

“What should I do?” I asked softly of Snarl, who lay on the edge of our little den.

He appeared to be half-asleep, but I knew he was being vigilant, our first line of defense.

“She is cold and will get colder still…” I could wrap her in my arms and hold her close to share body heat.

My heart pounded at the thought of another chance to hold her.

The previous times, I’d had far too much on my mind to fully appreciate the sensations.

Snarl made a soft huffing sound. “Just mate her, claim your female so no one can take her from you.” For a Ferai beast, that logic made perfect sense, for my kind too.

Even as a child on the Mother Planet, I’d witnessed males in the throes of a mating.

They would haul off their chosen female and not return to the village for a long while, often not until the female was already swollen with child.

My cock swelled at the thought, and my gaze slid over Hina’s small form.

Was she strong enough to take a mating from a warrior, a gladiator such as me?

Her soft, pale skin and chin-length hair, lying like black feathers against her neck, painted a delicate picture.

Imagining her belly full with my child twisted me up inside, I wanted that, badly.

But I couldn’t do that to her without explaining.

Humans were far more civilized than I was.

I couldn’t act on those urges, or I’d scare her away forever.

“She is cold, at least warm her up,” Snarl suggested, with a hint of derision in his tone.

For him, everything was pretty black and white.

He had a point, she was getting colder and colder, and soon she’d wake from it.

We both needed to rest if we wanted to find a way out of this maze of tunnels without running into their inhabitants.

On silent feet, I made my way around the fire and settled down behind her.

The sandy floor was not the most comfortable of beds, cold enough to sap her even further from the warmth, with her thin skin.

When I lay down next to her, she turned, her body instinctively seeking out my heat.

I gently moved her until she was almost entirely on top of me, the blanket tucked tightly around us both.

She never stirred, just settled her face into the crook of my neck with a sigh.

I didn’t sleep for a long time, too wired, too aroused, with all her soft curves pressing against me.

How was it possible for humans to survive when they were this soft, this fragile?

It made no sense, but everything in me was fired up, ready to protect her.

I was going to get her out of these caves and off this planet.

I woke up when Hina moved, her breath shifting from deep and relaxed to a shocked stutter.

I tried to stay relaxed, not to give away that I’d woken up along with her.

Somehow, it was imperative that she realized I wasn’t some asshole ready to paw at her, even if all my instincts were telling me to stake a claim.

The moment seemed to last forever while she lay frozen on top of me.

My heart was pounding so furiously that I was certain she could feel it.

A sigh shuddered out of her body, then she went soft and pliant again.

Her hands came up to curl against my pectoral muscles between us, and her head moved to press her nose against my throat.

The tip was cold, and I couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“Oh, sorry, Fierce,” she mumbled in a sleepy voice.

Daring to move—she clearly knew I was awake—I shifted my arms to curl them more snugly around her slender waist. “Hina, good morning.” She didn’t understand my morning greeting, but I caught how the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile, her eyes still tightly closed.

“Morning to you too. At least, I think you just said good morning.”

“Yes,” I told her, making sure to enunciate and speak slowly.

My language was hardly ever uploaded to most translator tech, so I was used to not being understood.

At least our previous slave owner had made sure all the gladiators in his stables understood each other; that made training much more effective.