Page 12 of Ice Planet Barbarians

This is new.

I approach it cautiously, my blade drawn. A moment ago it was dancing and writhing, and now it’s gone limp. The smell is sa-khui and yet . . . not. Curious. I poke it with the tip of my sword to see if it will jump once more, but it does not. The wind is picking up, the cold air preparing for the little moon’s arrival, the twin suns heading to their beds.

With the tip of my sword, I slice the cord binding its legs, and it flops to the ground, lying in the snow.

And then I am shocked anew as my khui resonates inside me. My inward being, which has lain dormant for so long, which recognizes no mate amongst my people? It vibrates and sings at the sight of this new creature. I stare at it.

My thoughts confused and whirling, I snatch it into my arms and sprint for the nearest hunting cave.

It is the bitter season, when hunters must be cautious when journeying out far from the home caves. There are a series of hunting caves that only see use on the coldest of nights, when a hunter is many sprints away from home. They are ingrained into my brain after turn upon countless turn of hunts, and I find the nearest one’s location easily. I push aside the leathery flap protecting the entrance and set my burden down on the floor. A quick shake of the furs does not reveal hidden occupants, so I move the she-creature—for it must be a she—to them. Her teeth clack together, making the cold sound that young sometimes make before they’re sa-khui, so I touch her eyelid and pry it open to see if she is lit from within.

The eye underneath is white, dull. There is no khui inside her, or if there is, it is dead. She will need to be treated as if an infant, then. I make a fire quickly and wait for it to warm her. And because my curiosity has the best of me, I examine her. I tell myself it’s simply to determine if she is wounded, but my mind sings with curiosity, my khui vibrating within my chest with a song that’s growing greater with every possible moment.

She is making me resonate. She is mine.

I run a hand over her limbs. She is wearing some sort of clothing that stinks of old, bitter memories. I want to rip it off her, but if she is as helpless as a kit, she will need it. So I take time to find the fastenings and undo them, revealing the flesh underneath.

She’s smooth. Not like a sa-khui. Her flesh is almost completely hairless, save for the long, flowing locks on her crown and a small tuft between her thighs that’s revealed as I pull her leathers from her. I snort with amusement at that small tuft.

Adorable. Adorable and nonsensical.

She has no ridges under her skin to define her muscles, and the overwhelming sensation I have as I view her body is one of softness and weakness. Perhaps she has been sick, and that is why her khui is gone. I run my fingers over her strange face. It’s smooth too, her brow flat. She has no ridges anywhere. Just softness.

How did one so weak as her find their way to the outer hunting grounds? It’s a mystery, almost as much of one as the fact that she’s making my khui resonate hard in my chest. It’s thrumming with the call, and the need to mate slams through my body as her soft, rounded thighs part and her scent fills my nostrils.

A groan escapes me as my cock grows hard, the ridges on it swelling.

I bury my face between her legs so I can taste all of her.

GEORGIE

Pretty sure I’m dreaming.

Maybe that’s all this is. One big, bad dream. I’ve just been stuck in the bad part of my head for a while, and now I’m getting to the wet part of the dream. Because I’m pretty sure I’m naked, and there’s a mouth between my legs, licking me like there’s no tomorrow.

I moan softly, because this? This is a much better dream than that spaceship crap.

Something slick with hard, nubbed bumps runs up and down my pussy. A mouth, a tongue. It glides through my folds, and I press a hand to my forehead because it feels so good. A flash of pain shoots up my wrist, but it’s quickly buried under another round of pleasure. Soft rumbling sounds come from nearby, almost like language, except I can’t understand a word of it. This guy is eating my pussy like a champ.

His head lifts, and he nuzzles at my bush, mumbling something again. My hands go to push his head back down to where I want it.

Except I encounter horns.

I jerk awake, realizing it’s not a dream. None of this is. I look down at my body in shock. I’m naked. I’m naked, and there’s some guy with a pair of massive curled horns rising from his head between my legs. As I watch, his tongue drags over my pussy again.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. I push at his head, trying to shove him away. This is not normal. This is not normal.

He looks up at me, and as he does, I gasp.

He’s not human. I mean, I knew that with the horns and all, but looking at his face, I can tell he’s really not human. Horns rise from his hairline and curl around his scalp like a spiky, lethal helmet. He’s blue, for one thing. Well, bluish-gray with a black mane of hair that reminds me of a lion’s mane. His brows are heavy, heavier than any human brow I’ve seen, his face rugged like it’s carved from stone. Going straight down his forehead to the tip of his nose is a striated pattern of ridges of some kind, his bluish-gray skin slightly darker there.

And his eyes are a glowing shade of blue that I’ve never seen. Blue like Caribbean waters but completely without pupils of any kind. And they’re glowing as if from within.

A small whimper escapes my throat as he rises up over me. I see the shaggy white furs covering his shoulders, and I realize I saw them from hanging upside down. It wasn’t a monster come to eat me. It was this monster.

Who’s come to eat me out.

It strikes me as incredibly ludicrous, and I want to laugh, but I’m too terrified. “What are you going to do with me?” I ask softly, my eyes wide. The refrain of please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me echoes through my head.

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