Page 14 of Survivor
My efforts bore fruit as a subtle smile played on his lips, like the sun peeking through the clouds. “I like the way you think,” he replied.
Feeling buoyed by his response, I laughed and spun on my feet, attempting aSound of Musicmove with my arms wide open to embrace the world. But my footsteps betrayed me, catching on an exposed root that jutted out from the forest floor. My arms flailed wildly, like a windmill caught in a sudden gust, as I struggled to keep from landing unceremoniously on my ass.
I remained upright, though it was no testament to my balance. Vraxxan caught my hand, pulling me close to his side, grounding me with his presence.
I found myself panting, though whether it was from the adrenaline of nearly falling or the intoxicating proximity of Vraxxan, I couldn’t quite tell. My gaze dropped to my boots—moreDoc Martenthan hiking gear—but still a significant upgrade from the flimsy flip-flops the cat aliens had given me post-abduction.
“Are you all right?” Vraxxan asked, his voice huskier than usual.
“Fine,” I replied with a soft, nervous laugh. “Just clumsy.”
“Perhaps you should hold on to me,” he suggested, intertwining our fingers with a gentle yet firm grip. “For balance.”
“For balance,” I echoed, though that was the least of the reasons I didn’t disentangle my hand from his. I relished the way our fingers felt intricately woven together. His touch sent a delightful tingle coursing across my skin like a gentle, electric current. Despite the oppressive heat and humidity, I found comfort in his warmth and presence, and most of all, I liked how utterly safe I felt with him.
I’d never held hands with a guy before. Thanks to the cancer, there was an entire world of things I hadn’t experienced, especially in the romantic arena. I liked the way it made me feel. The sensation of his hand in mine was electric, sending a warm tingle up my arm. His grip on mine felt secure, as if he wanted to tether me to him like I was something fragile and precious that he wanted to keep safe.
It didn’t matter that he probably held my hand only to prevent me from stumbling and killing myself. I was content to luxuriate alone in the daydream where my handsome, alien boyfriend and I meandered through the lush, sun-dappled forest, our fingers interwoven like the vines that surrounded us.
We continued on the path, eventually arriving at a small clearing where the trees stood tall and proud, encircling us like the ancient pillars of a grand arena. Without uttering a word, Vraxxan suddenly halted, his free hand instinctively palming the hilt of the long blade sheathed at his hip. I glanced at him, curious as to what had him spooked, but the terse nod of his head silenced me instantly. The air seemed to hold its breath, charged with anticipation, and the jungle itself fell quiet... watching and waiting.
From all around us, whoops and high-pitched cries rang out, followed by the sudden appearance of dozens of creatures that resembled monkeys rushing from the trees, surrounding us.
Only I didn’t suspect these creatures were as harmless as monkeys. For one, they were larger, towering as tall as most human men. Second, they wielded weapons—crudely fashioned spears tipped with sharp, menacing stone points. Third, and the most unsettling, their faces bore keen intelligence that strangely reminded me of the primates in all thosePlanet of the Apesmovies.
Yet, despite it all, the monkey-like beings weren’t the most startling sight.
The thing that stole my breath was the male who broke through their ranks and strode toward us, his presence commanding and striking—a general to the primate army. He was tall and muscular with pointed ears like Vraxxan. The scales on his body shimmered with a riot of hues, a kaleidoscope of blue and gold from head to toe. His hair, a deep blue, lay cropped close to his skull in a choppy, uneven manner as if hacked with a knife, and his eyes were a deep, dark blue, akin to the midnight sky, in stark contrast to Vraxxan’s bright teal gaze. Their features were strikingly similar, enough that it made me curious.
At sight of the male, I felt Vraxxan’s hand leave mine and firmly land on my hip, drawing me securely behind him. A glance at his face conveyed what I already understood—stay still and silent.
Vraxxan raised his hands, palms open, to signal our peaceful intentions. When he spoke, his voice was steady, confident, and commanding—even if his words shocked the hell out of me.
“Hello, Father.”
Chapter 8
Vraxxan
My father.
He did not appear as I remembered him. The male I saw led away into exile was shackled and beaten. His scales, like mine, had been mostly black, with a swathe of color across his chest, a mark of shame that he could not hide.The male before me now, though wearing creases of age at the corners of his eyes, stood strong and healthy. His body bore no evidence of my mother’s demands, iridescent with color without a scale of black to be seen. He was more leanly muscled than I remembered and the leather kilt he wore slung around his hips was handmade. Yet, I knew his face. His deep blue eyes shimmered, and the hand he held toward me trembled.
Behind me, I felt Lucy tense. I should have informed her of the possibility of encountering my father, but it had been so long—over thirty spans—since his exile. Part of me had doubted he still lived.
“Vraxxan?”
His voice was the same, and the youngling buried deep down inside me twitched with joy at the sound of him calling my name like he had so many times before.
“Hello, Father,” I said again, knowing any other attempt at speech would fail. A smile split my face as I stepped forward,taking his offered hand and allowing myself to be pulled into a tight embrace.
“How—how are you here?” My father pulled back, his hands running over my face and shoulders, checking me for injury or blemish, or perhaps just checking that I wasn’t a figment of his imagination. The joy on his face morphed, becoming darker. “Your mother... she did not.”
“I am not exiled,” I assured him, neglecting to mention that, most likely, I would be on her death list. That was a story for another time. Reaching behind me, I found Lucy, letting my fingers gently clasp her wrist, and pulling her to my side. “I am here for Lucy, to protect her.”
The wariness on Lucy’s face dissolved with a bright smile, and she raised her hand, holding it out to my father in a human gesture of introduction. “Hello, it’s good to meet you. I’m Lucy MacGillicuddy from Earth.”
I watched my father’s eyes widen as one of his fingers tapped behind his left ear, no doubt urging the translator he wore to hasten.
