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CHAPTER SEVEN

X ara’s stomach lurched as she took the glistening piece of flesh, slick and warm in her hand. Her savior obviously wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Perhaps she should have escaped while she’d had the chance.

She’d considered it when he’d stalked out of the cave and disappeared into the jungle, his movements fluid and predatory despite his size. One moment he filled the cave entrance with his massive presence, the next he was gone—swallowed by shadows and crimson foliage.

Despite the sense of safety she felt in his presence, she was only too aware of his size and strength. His orders so far had been for her protection, but what if that changed?

But then she’d glanced down at her bandaged leg.

The moss dressing felt cool against her skin, the pain dulled to a persistent throb.

Whatever he’d applied to the wound seemed to be working, but she doubted she could make it far on her own.

And even if she could, where would she go?

The shuttle was wrecked, the landscape hostile, and more of those insect-things were probably out there.

The alien babies squeaked, their luminescent markings pulsing as they nuzzled against her side. Three pairs of oversized eyes gazed up at her, somehow trusting despite everything.

“What do you guys think?” she asked them. “Should we make a break for it?”

The smallest one chirped and climbed into lap, settling against her stomach with a contented sigh.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She sank back onto the bed, wincing as her injured leg protested. “It’s not like we’d get far anyway.”

And the cave was surprisingly comfortable—clean and dry, with the fire pit in the center and what looked like primitive storage areas carved into the walls. It wasn’t the lair of a mindless beast, but the home of something—someone—with intelligence.

Not that intelligence made him less fearsome—if anything it only made him more dangerous. But he hasn’t hurt me, she reminded herself.

She was half-asleep when he returned, something large and multi-limbed slung over his shoulder. Blood dripped from the carcass, leaving a dark trail behind him, and she swallowed hard, praying she’d made the right decision to remain.

He dropped his prey onto a flat stone with a wet thud, and her stomach churned again as she noted the stains indicating past kills.

She watched, transfixed, as he set to work—claws slicing through hide and sinew with practiced precision.

His movements were economical, almost graceful despite their brutality.

When he’d finished, he selected a piece of raw, bloody meat and approached her, growling when she refused, and she’d been forced to take it.

Now he watched her, those silver eyes unblinking, as he waited for her to eat. Instead, she looked around desperately for something to cook it with.

A variety of vegetation supported the moss on the bed platform and she pulled out the sturdiest stick she could find, doing her best to skewer the meat on it before she held it over the fire pit.

“I can’t eat it raw—it needs to be cooked.”

His head tilted, those sensory tendrils swaying with the movement, then plucked the stick out of her hand.

She gave a frustrated cry, but all he did was to attach the meat more firmly to the stick before handing it back to her.

He watched her for a long moment as she held it over the fire, then returned to the butchered carcass.

The meat sizzled over the fire, fat dripping into the flames, and her mouth watered at the smell. The only thing she’d eaten since she’d arrived on this world was that one piece of fruit.

He returned a moment with another piece of meat, already skewered on a sharpened stick, and crouched beside her, holding it over the fire as well.

“You understand me, don’t you?” she asked softly.

No response. Just that steady, silver gaze.

When the outside of the meat was thoroughly browned, she took a tentative bite. The flavor was gamey but not unpleasant—like venison with a hint of something unfamiliar. Her stomach growled appreciatively, and she realized how hungry she truly was.

He handed her the second piece once it was cooked, then prepared another for her.

When she waved away the third piece, he finally ate, tearing into the meat with sharp teeth.

For the first time she noticed his extended canines—not fangs exactly, but distinct, elongated cuspids that would allow him to deliver a fatal bite.

“Thank you,” she said between bites. “For the food.”

Silence. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

“Do you have a name?” she tried, then patted her chest. “Xara. And you are?”

Still nothing.

“Can you speak at all?” She waved her hand in front of her mouth. “Talk? Words?”

He stared at her, chewing methodically, and she sighed, focusing on her food instead.

The pups had awakened from their nap and were sniffing the air hungrily.

She’d assumed their blunt teeth indicated that they were herbivores, but then her teeth weren’t particularly sharp—especially compared to her rescuers—and she was certainly capable of eating meat.

“Are you old enough for meat?” she asked, tearing off a small, well-cooked piece. She offered it to the nearest pup, who sniffed it curiously before taking it with surprising gentleness.

The other two crowded around, squeaking demandingly. She laughed despite herself and fed them each a tiny morsel.

“Hungry little things, aren’t you?”

From the corner of her eye, she caught a strange expression flicker across the male’s face—something almost like satisfaction.

“You care about them too,” she realized. “That’s why you saved them as well, isn’t it?”

He turned away, focusing on the fire, and she shook her head. Impossible male.

By the time she finished her meal she felt much stronger. The pups played around her feet, their luminescent markings glowing brighter as they chased each other across the cave floor.

The smallest one, whom she’d decided to name Dot for the distinctive pattern on its forehead, suddenly broke away from the others. It tumbled across the cave toward the huge male, who had settled against the far wall.

She tried to intercept it but the pup paid no attention, continuing its clumsy journey until it reached the male’s massive leg. Without hesitation, it began climbing, tiny claws finding purchase on his skin.

She held her breath, hoping she’d been correct in assuming he cared about the pups and ready to intervene if she’d been wrong.

Instead, he remained perfectly still as the pup scaled his leg and settled into his lap. One of those long sensory tendrils gently brushed against the pup’s head.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she whispered.

The pup chirped happily, curling into a ball against his abdomen.

The male’s clawed hand hovered over it for a moment, then settled with surprising gentleness on its back, and the lingering remnants of her fear drifted away.

If he could be that gentle with these vulnerable creatures, perhaps she was safe with him after all.

The other pups, seeing their sibling’s success, scampered back to Xara and climbed into her lap. Their tiny bodies were warm against her skin, their movements trusting and affectionate.

“Looks like we’ve been adopted,” she said, stroking one’s head.

The cave was growing darker as the fire burned lower. Her eyelids felt heavy, the combination of food, warmth, and fading adrenaline making it difficult to stay awake.

She leaned back against the cave wall, cradling the pups against her chest. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how I got here? Or how to get me home?”

The male’s eyes gleamed in the firelight, but he remained silent.

“No, I didn’t think so.” She yawned. “I don’t even know if Earth still exists from here. Or how long I’ve been gone.”

The thought brought a wave of grief. Her students, her colleagues—did they think she was dead? Had they given up searching?

One of the pups squeaked softly, nuzzling against her hand as if sensing her distress.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, stroking its back. “We’ll figure something out.”

Her gaze drifted back to her rescuer. He hadn’t moved, still cradling the smallest pup in his lap.

Dot was fast asleep, the softest of purrs emanating from its little body.

The contrast was striking—those lethal claws, capable of tearing apart a predator, now delicately supporting a creature that could fit in the palm of her hand.

Her eyelids grew heavier. She fought to keep them open, unwilling to make herself vulnerable by sleeping, but exhaustion was winning.

The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was the alien male, still sitting motionless across the cave.

His silver eyes reflected the dying firelight, watching over her as darkness fell.