Page 6

CHAPTER FIVE

X ara floated through darkness, fragments of memories flashing behind her eyelids.

The campus at night. The dead alien in the shuttle.

The strange lights in the hills. The insect-like predator with its clicking mandibles and glowing yellow eyes.

Pain slicing across her leg. Then—silver eyes and a roar that shook the ground beneath her.

Pain dragged her back to consciousness. Her leg throbbed, a dull, persistent ache that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

She kept her eyes closed, trying to assess her situation before revealing she was awake.

The air smelled different—earthy and cool, with a faint smokiness.

She lay on something soft, and warmth pressed against her stomach.

She carefully cracked one eye open.

Firelight danced across rough stone walls.

She was in a cave, lying on what felt like a bed of moss tucked against one wall of the cave.

Looking down, she saw three little bodies curled against her—the alien babies, their bioluminescent markings pulsing softly as they slept.

One made a tiny chirping sound, burrowing closer to her warmth.

Some kind of silvery fur covered her lower half and she pushed it back to inspect the wounds on her leg—her bare leg.

Her pants had disappeared although thankfully her panties were still in place.

The wounds were covered with patches of dark purple—some kind of moss—held in place by neat strips of dark fiber.

The bleeding had stopped, and though it hurt, the searing pain from before had dulled to a manageable throb.

The gash across her ribs felt better as well and when she lift her shirt—also thankfully still in place—it was also covered with more of the purple moss and wide strips of the black fiber.

She touched them thoughtfully, recognizing that odd texture, and deciding they must be derived from the bark of the crimson-leaved trees that dominated the jungle.

A sound from the dimness beyond the firelight made her freeze, peering anxiously into the shadows.

As her eyes adjusted she caught a glimpse of another cave and a curtain of vines that trembled as if in response to an unfelt breeze.

Her breath caught in her throat as something massive shifted in the shadows.

Silver eyes gleamed in the darkness—the eyes from her fragmented memory—the ones she’d seen right before consciousness slipped away.

The fire crackled, sending sparks upward, briefly illuminating a hulking silhouette. Broad shoulders. Powerful arms ending in clawed hands. A face with sharp, predatory features.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. This male had saved her from the predator.

He’d carried her here and tended her wounds.

Logic told her she should feel grateful, not terrified.

But logic had little to do with the instinctive fear that crawled up her spine as those silver eyes watched her from the darkness. Her savior or her captor? Or both?

She swallowed hard.

“Hello?” Her voice came out weak and uncertain.

The figure didn’t respond, didn’t move closer. Just watched, utterly still in a predatory way that reminded her of a jaguar she’d once observed during fieldwork in the Amazon—patient, calculating, lethal.

One of the babies stirred against her stomach, making a soft trilling sound. The tiny creature blinked up at her with enormous eyes, then stretched, its claws pricking gently through her torn shirt.

“Hey, little one,” she whispered, stroking its head with a finger. The baby chirped, pressing into her touch.

The fire popped loudly, and her gaze snapped back to the shadows. The silver eyes had moved closer, but still remained beyond the circle of firelight.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to test her boundaries. Slowly, wincing at the pain in her leg, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. The babies tumbled into her lap, squeaking in protest at being disturbed.

The figure in the shadows shifted but made no move to stop her.

Encouraged, she carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed, testing her weight on her injured leg. Pain shot through her, but it held. Using the wall for support, she pulled herself to her feet, swaying slightly.

Her silent rescuer remained in the shadows, but his eyes tracked every movement and she was suddenly extremely conscious of her bare legs. At least the hem of her torn shirt came down far enough to cover her panties.

Curiosity finally began to edge out fear. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he’d had plenty of opportunity while she was unconscious. Instead, he’d treated her wounds and given her shelter.

The smallest of the babies scampered after her, clutching at her ankle with tiny paws. She bent awkwardly, scooping it up and cradling it against her chest. The other two remained curled on the bed, watching with sleepy eyes.

“I’m just going to look around a bit,” she said, as much to herself as to the silent figure or the baby in her arms. “That’s all.”

Limping heavily, she made her way toward the entrance of the outer cave, one hand on the wall for support. Her leg throbbed with each step, but determination pushed her forward. She needed to know where she was, needed to see what lay beyond these walls.

The hanging vines that surrounded the cave entrance glowed with a soft, ethereal purple light as she pushed them aside and stepped out onto the small ledge.

Night air brushed her face, unexpectedly cool after the warmth of the fire.

The forest stretched away beneath the ledge, its scarlet foliage glowing under the light of the smallest crimson moon.

There was no discernible sound but the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickled. Even before she turned around she knew her rescuer had followed her outside, but she barely managed to stifle a gasp as the moonlight illuminated him.

He was even larger than she’d remembered—at least seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a body that seemed built for combat with powerful arms and legs, and dark claws on his hands and feet.

Muscles rippled beneath skin that gleamed like liquid mercury, strange markings pulsing across his body.

Even standing at the far end of the small ledge his body loomed over her.

Those extraordinary silver eyes seemed to glow from within as he returned her gaze, his expression unreadable.

His face was alien yet somehow beautiful in its ferocity, with sharp, angled features and a jaw built to bite and break.

An intelligent face despite his silence and primitive appearance.

Her gaze skated down over the strip of fabric—more belt than loincloth—circling his hips before returning to his face.

Long coiled dreadlocks hung almost to his knees, gleaming in the moonlight. No, not dreadlocks, she realized as one of them stirred, swaying gently in her direction. Some kind of tendril, like an exaggerated form of the pups’ small, feathery tendrils.

For a long moment neither of them moved, and then she realized she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled slowly, clutching the baby closer to her chest.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steadier this time. “For saving me. For...” she gestured to her bandages, “...this.”

The tendrils on his head moved, one of them extending towards her again. She stood very still, unsure whether to retreat or remain in place.

“My name is Xara,” she added, watching those silver eyes for any reaction. “Xara Reyes. I’m a biologist—a scientist. I study living things.” She laughed nervously. “Though I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

The tendril danced closer, and she forced herself not to flinch. It brushed her cheek, so lightly she might have imagined it, and the touch sent an odd tingling sensation across her skin.

“Can you understand me? Do you speak?”

His expression remained unreadable, those silver eyes revealing nothing as they studied her face. The tendril retreated, and he made no sound, no gesture to indicate he’d understood a word she’d said.

The baby in her arms chirped, reaching towards him with tiny paws. Something in his expression shifted—softened, perhaps—as he looked at the small creature.

“I think she likes you,” she said, taking a careful step closer. “What are they? Do you have a name for them?”

Still no response. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft sounds of the forest and the baby’s occasional chirps.

She sighed, disappointment settling in her chest. She’d hoped for answers, and instead, found more mysteries. Who was he? What was this place? How had she ended up here?

She turned back toward the cave entrance, her leg throbbing with renewed intensity. The brief exploration had depleted what little strength she’d regained. She needed to rest, to think.

“I should go back inside,” she said, more to herself than to him.

As she limped past him, his scent enveloped her—something wild and alien yet not unpleasant.

She was acutely aware of his size, of how easily he could overpower her if he chose.

But he simply watched her pass, those silver eyes following her movement, those long tendrils swaying gently in her direction as if drawn by an unseen current.

One brushed against her arm, lingering a moment longer this time, thick and smooth and unexpectedly soft.

The same tingling sensation skated across her skin, and she suppressed a shiver as she stared up at him. His eyes flared even brighter, and then he jerked his head towards the inner cave in clear command for her to return. Some odd, defiant impulse made her frown up at him.

“Don’t give me orders,” she muttered. She tried to take a step back but she stumbled on the uneven floor and pain shot through her leg.

He growled, and the next minute she was in his arms as he strode back towards the bed, tucked tightly against that hard, warm chest, his arms and tendrils holding her firmly in place.

She gasped and tried to struggle, then huffed and gave up the useless effort. The sensation of being carried so effortlessly was unexpectedly pleasant and heat rose to her cheeks, intensifying when her stomach rumbled.

He set her on the bed without a word, and the baby leapt from her arms to the bed, chittering as it ran in a circle, clearly delighted with this game.

His gaze fixed on hers, he held up one clawed hand, palm outward. Stay. He pointed to the bed, then to her, then made a flat, pressing motion. The meaning was clear even without words: Stay there. Don’t move. She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. Arguing clearly wasn’t going to work.

Instead she sighed and nodded as she sank back on the bed. The babies immediately snuggled against her and her heart warmed. At least someone was happy with the situation.

Her savior stood above her a moment longer, arms folded across his broad chest, no doubt waiting to make sure she obeyed. His stance was clearly protective, his silver eyes watchful, and something about that combination was oddly reassuring. She hadn’t felt this safe since she’d been taken.

He didn’t move, his attention remaining fixed on her. She yawned as exhaustion overwhelmed her, then smiled and shook her head.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured.

A low, rumbling sound responded, a growl or perhaps a grunt, but then he turned and stalked out of the cave.