Page 14 of The Dreamer and the Deep Space Warrior (Xaal Alien Romance #1)

Isobel

The suitors showed up with long waits between them, and an extra calling card appeared if by magic, meaning Isobel had to sit through four awkward interactions before she could leave. Whatever happened to calling hour ?

Now, Clara and her best friend, Katherine Shanning, were discussing everything from suitors to the possibility of two women traveling the world together instead of staying in Dorsent to marry.

Happily being plied with sweets and tea, they were unlikely to notice her absence.

By the time Isobel reached Ved’s ship, a sheen of sweat was on her brow, and she couldn’t breathe. But it didn’t take long for her to realize that it had all been for naught—Ved wasn’t inside it.

Had something already happened?

The possibilities were too grim to contemplate.

She was anything but calm as she left the downed vessel and got her bearings as best she could.

Her brother had most likely gone to the west, where a lively stream attracted all kinds of wildlife.

Bunching up her skirts, she set off into the woods in the direction she hoped was correct .

In order to maintain her western route, she had to deviate entirely from the walking paths.

Just like the night she’d run from Ved, picking her way through was proving to be an arduous task.

She’d at least worn shoes that were much easier to rid of evidence of off-trail forest-tromping than some others.

But how she longed for a pair of trousers and fewer layers.

“Ved,” she hissed every few steps. He’d said that Xaal had superior senses, so she hoped he could hear her frantic whisper-yells.

It wasn’t until she was deep in the forest that she began panicking anew. She felt like she’d been walking for hours and wasn’t certain if she was still on their property or the Huels’.

Surely, she should have come upon the stream and the hunting party by now.

Halting, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Her curls had escaped her bonnet, and some stuck to her forehead and cheeks.

It was more humid here than in the fields, surrounded by the trees and thick brush, and she was parched.

Whatever energy she’d managed to rouse despite her sleepless nights was completely drained.

She trudged toward a thick log and promptly plopped down on it. Leaning back against the sturdy tree the log sat perpendicular to, she closed her eyes. Just a brief respite was all she needed.

A noise had her startling awake just in time to see a white and brown blur dash through the trees.

Several heart-racing moments went by before another deer came bounding through the area. And another. They were scared and running as if they were being chased.

Or hunted.

A crack of a shot exploded at far too close a range. Isobel dropped to the forest floor, landing in a bed of dried leaves, before scrambling around the tree’s wide trunk.

She’d somehow managed to put herself between the hunters and their prey.

Isobel liked to think she was an intelligent woman, but she hadn’t considered that as a possibility.

Another shot, the impact of which shook the tree she was crouched behind.

She squeaked, ducking and covering her head instinctively. “It’s me!” she called out, hoping that Henry, or anyone , heard her. “It’s Isobel. Stop shooting!” Her heartbeat drowned out all other noise, but she didn’t think anyone responded.

Another shot barreled through the trees around her.

Neither Henry nor Lord Richard were bad shots. It was something they spoke about at great length. But they’d been out for hours by now, and if they hadn’t caught anything, they were perhaps just excited to be shooting.

A shadow fell over her, and only then did she find the courage to look up.

Ved was there, lifting her up in an instant. It left her pressed to his body, her feet dangling, his hands wrapped securely around the back of one of her thighs and her waist respectively.

His eye shields blazed.

Voices filtered through the trees. Lord Richard and another one of the lords Henry had invited were bickering.

“You have to hide,” she hissed, squeezing Ved’s forearms. “If they see you… Oh, devil, if they see us .” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It was what she had feared would happen.

Blazes, she had ruined everything.

But then Ved pressed her against the tree, letting her slip down his body until her feet were on the ground again.

For a brief moment, there was only Ved, his hulking form all-consuming, and she swore she smelled his scent—heated metal and dark ocean.

She breathed it in, willing her lungs to remember it.

There was a snap of a sound, and then he placed something around her wrist.

Their predicament slammed back into her awareness. “We have to—”

He put his hand over her mouth gently, muffling her words.

The party was so close. They were going to find them.

Twigs popped and leaves shifted beneath numerous boots.

The hounds huffed and panted.

Then the hunting party stepped into view.

With eyes wide, she stared at them. How was she to explain this? How could she keep her reputation intact and Ved safe? Even now, he was practically pressed into her, a position far too intimate to explain.

Not to mention the trivial matter of him being a giant, armored Xaal. From another planet.

“I think we may be the worst hunters to have ever lived,” her brother declared as he rested his rifle against his shoulder. He scanned the area around him before his brown gaze locked onto her and Ved. And then moved away again.

Wait…

He couldn’t see them?

Isobel slowly looked up at Ved, but he was too busy studying the men.

This was impossible. But, then again, days ago it had seemed impossible that there were beings who traveled through the stars, or entire planets with life of their own.

Frankly, being invisible wasn’t nearly as shocking as it should be.

More of the hunting crew came into view, their footsteps heavy. The gamekeeper, hound handlers, and the men employed to carry and maintain their rifles stood farther away from the six gentlemen.

“We well and truly missed them,” Henry said, a perplexed scowl on his face.

Lord Richard swaggered up to him as he handed his rifle off to his man. “Well, we aren’t catching anything now, that’s for certain,” he said as he fastidiously fixed his blond locks into place.

“We can try again next week,” Lord Doyle said, his weapon slung over his shoulder casually. “It’ll be a much-needed reprieve from all the social events. I swear, every time I look there’s some new mama holding another luncheon or ball. Three invitations arrived just this morning.”

Ved had slowly moved away from her. For as large as he was, he somehow managed to step silently without rustling the leaves beneath his plated boots.

When he was three paces from her, he turned to watch the men fully.

She didn’t know what he was thinking, but if he thought they were threats … oh, God.

She lifted her hand to catch his attention. The slight rustling of her clothes luckily didn’t attract notice from anyone but Ved. “That’s my brother,” she mouthed. Carefully, she pointed to Henry.

He looked between her and Henry. She wondered if he was looking for their similarities. They’d inherited traits from their parents in equal measure, and Clara had on more than one occasion remarked on their likeness.

The gentlemen were talking amongst themselves, but Isobel’s focus was fully on Ved.

With all the grace of a stealthy predator, Ved moved around the group until he was only paces from Lord Richard and Lord Doyle.

He looked down at them, and she had a feeling he was studying their forms, sizing them up.

Until now, she was the only human he’d seen.

“I think we should—” Henry started, but was cut off by a high-pitched whine.

The hounds. They were anxious, pawing at the ground and pacing.

And they were staring right at Ved.

They knew he was there, smelled him and felt his presence, but couldn’t see him.

“I apologize, my lord,” one of the handlers said. “I’m uncertain what has—” The hounds started pulling at their leads before letting out a call similar to their hunting alerts.

The gentlemen looked around for the cause of the dogs’ uneasiness but saw nothing.

If the hounds came for Ved, it wouldn’t matter if he was invisible.

What were they going to do? Ved didn’t seem concerned, and after several tense moments of the handlers trying to wrangle the hunting dogs, they suddenly fell silent. Some looked rather sheepish as their handlers quietly questioned their senses.

“Right, let’s get back, then. I’m famished,” Lord Richard declared. The gentlemen all agreed, and they were off again, tromping through the woods and disappearing into the trees beyond.

Isobel was still frozen in place when Ved turned toward her again. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he reached for her. He pulled the bracelet-like black band off her wrist carefully.

“What just happened? How did they not see us?”

His chest rumbled with what she was certain was a laugh. “I used my cloaking mechanism,” he said. “It allowed us to go unseen and undetected. Still, hounds—on any planet—tend to sense far more than other beings. Especially your people.” Without moving, he disappeared in front of her.

She reached out, and he gently caught her hand as he moved closer than he was before. “But I could see you before,” she breathed in wonderment .

“Yes, because you had part of my system on you,” he explained, suddenly reappearing and holding up the band.

“Extraordinary.”

They stood like that for a moment. Her hand engulfed by his, staring at each other.

She cleared her throat, and drew her arm away as he asked, “What were these males doing here?”

“They were hunting. My brother and that party of gentlemen often come out here to do so. That’s why I was here. I came to warn you.” So much for that.

“Hunting?” Ved bit out before murmuring a string of rough syllables in his own language. Though she couldn’t understand it, it had the same feeling that a good, long curse did.

She blinked, realizing that perhaps this was another difference in their culture. “Well, they hunt the stag. We use the meat, and gentlemen particularly like to decorate their spaces with the antlers.”

“That was not hunting,” he grumbled.

She frowned, not fully understanding.

“They stomped around—talking, laughing, and boasting, but caught nothing .” He changed his posture, puffed out his chest, and moved around noisily, mimicking them.

“They are like the ungainly babes of the murog. Clambering and messy. They alerted their mark to their presence long before they were even there. Not to mention, their weapons are too large and unwieldy for such small males. This is no way to hunt,” he said severely.

A laugh bubbled out of Isobel and, before long, fully overtook her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she swiped them away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so fully .

When her mirth subsided, she found Ved staring at her, his head tilted. “You find it humorous? They could have harmed you, Isobel Nott.”

Isobel opened her mouth to respond, but then his attention snapped to something behind them. She instinctively stepped into him as some mechanism whirred on his person.

“Just one of the beasties catching up to its herd,” he finally said.

“Right,” Isobel murmured, moving away from him just as quickly.

“You’ve been missing.” He closed the distance between them again in a single step—a dance they did often. He took her hand again and rubbed off some of the debris that was still stuck there with his thumb.

She was mesmerized by the simple movement. By the way he gave his touch without care, without concern for what was considered indecent. Were all Xaal so openly physical?

Taking half a step away from him, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Missing?” she asked, unsure of his meaning.

“You did not come this last setting.”

“Oh, I was quite busy. It’s Clara’s debut Season, and I had to chaperone.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth, either.

“What is this debut Season?”

Of course he wouldn’t know. “It is when a girl becomes a true woman in society’s eyes. She is introduced formally to the monarch and is eligible for marriage.”

“Like when we let the youth go on the Great Hunt, perhaps.”

Though a social season could be likened to a battlefield, she wasn’t sure they were at all similar.

He continued before she could explain further. “It pleases me to see you, Isobel Nott.” His voice was a gravelly hum. “Though my clan needs me now more than ever. I will work endlessly to get my ship repaired so I can return to them.”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she deliberated.

She had distracted him several times already from the task at hand, but maybe she could aid him.

In fact, she felt it was her duty to do so.

“What if I helped? We could accomplish much more with both of us. Any free moments I have will be dedicated to it.” As much as she’d love for him to stay, she knew he couldn’t.

The least she could do was help him get back home.

Her own feelings be damned.

“Some of the work is difficult. There are other risks and dangers, too.”

“I understand, but if I’m with you, I know no harm will come to me.” She smiled at him brightly.

His chest heaved.

“But,” she added on, “there need to be rules.”

“Rules,” he ground out. “What are these?”

“There can be no more touching. At all.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” he rumbled. “It displeases you?”

God please have mercy on her soul. She could barely admit to herself that it did anything but displease her.

It wasn’t as though she could tell him that his touch would awaken something within her, nor that, no matter how improper it was, she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities of such a thing. “It isn’t proper,” she said hoarsely.

The light of his eye shields gave way to black, and she couldn’t help but think it indicated disappointment.

But that was silly.

He reached for her, his fingers hovering beside her loose curls. “I will respect your customs and wishes. I won’t touch you, Isobel Nott. Until you ask it of me.” His arm dropped back to his side.

Until .

“Good,” she squeaked. “That should be fine, then.” She buried all the reasoning that had kept her away elsewhere. Someday she would have to face the consequences, even if it were just the risk of eternal disappointment, but not today.

“You will visit with your cookies?” he asked.

A laugh bubbled out of her unexpectedly. “Yes, I will bring more cookies.”