Page 11 of Xara and the Xenobeast

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 stomachgrowled 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 thatgentle 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?”

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