Page 18 of Captured By The Alien Barbarian
Then, in a surprising twist, Taccit drops to his knees before me, leveling his face with my chest. I squeak, hastily trying to cover myself with my hands.
But all he does is scoop up the discarded blanket and drape it around my shoulders. Am I disappointed or impressed by his display of self-control?
“Nika. You will obey me on this,” he says, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “Outside is dangerous. Do not leave without me by your side. I do not wish for you to be harmed. Understand?”
With careful scrutiny, he watches me. It suddenly clicks that he’s actually scared of me leaving the cave. Maybe he could’ve communicated that earlier, instead of just barking demands.
Heat floods my cheeks in embarrassment. Oh, well now I feel a bit silly. Of course, he’s thinking of my safety, not just throwing out orders for the fun of it.
“You don’t need to order me about,” I say. “I’m not your prisoner.”
“Ariana? I need you to agree.”
“Yes! Fine. I’ll stay here,” I say with a grumble. The thought of attempting another escape seems pointless now. Besides, I have nowhere else to go.
For just a moment, his face softens. His thumb tenderly brushes my cheek, a caress so contrary to his rough demeanor. This unexpected display throws me emotionally off-balance. Yes, he’s tough, but maybe it’s a necessity for survival in the untamed wilds of Atraxis, not a sign of heartlessness.
Turning away, Taccit quickly dresses. As he pulls on his clothes, he glances over his shoulder at me. When he spots me watching, his tail starts wagging at turbo speed. I struggle to stifle a giggle.
He ambles toward the door, hesitating next to an enormous ornamental axe mounted on the wall. The thing is gargantuan, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t lift it even if my life depended on it. The metal catches the glow of the dying fire, revealing an intricate, embossed pattern adorning the blade’s cheek. It brings to mind those ancient Celtic designs I’d once seen in a museum back on Earth.
Taccit bares his teeth at me in what I am starting to recognize as his version of a grin. It is all too clear why he’d been baffled when I first smiled at him. It’s going to take a while to get used to some of his alien features.
“I’ll return soon,” he says. In a bold display of brute strength, he yanks the wooden door aside as if it weighs nothing.
And that’s when the monsters attack.
* * *
I let outthe most ridiculously loud shriek as three wolves burst into the cave, making a beeline for Taccit. I don’t even have time to scream a warning to him. These beasts are gigantic, practically my height, and they move like clumsy, white-furred tornadoes. Before I know it, they’re all over Taccit with audible teeth clacking and some seriously unpleasant growling.
Throwing modesty out the cave door, I whip the blanket off of me, make a pirouette, and grab for my trusty bow. With one hand, I snatch it from the table, while the other hand is already lifting the arrow and lining up the shot.
Taccit, however, seems determined to steal the spotlight. He drags himself to his knees, looking at me with wide eyes and an expression that asks, “Did you really just do that?”
His tail does this sassy flick and snap, so loud that it echoes off the cave walls like a round of applause.
Well, would you look at that? All three not-so-cuddly monsters collapse to the floor.
I stand there with my jaw agape and an arrow ready to fly, but my brain’s not sure what to do. Do I shoot? My aim isn’t that great. What if I hit Taccit by accident?
Drama quenched, Taccit glides over, hands raised oddly, palms facing himself. With a casual swipe, he bats aside my bow and wraps me in his warm, spicy embrace.
“You are safe, my Nika,” he says. His hands stroke over my hair, caressing my shoulders, back, and arms.
Being the emotional wreck that I am, tears well up and spill out. I can’t stop it. I’ve been through too much, and I hate crying like some princess that needs to be rescued.
“The monsters,” I say between sniffles. “They attacked you.”
“No harm will come to you, Nika. I promise,” he says. His voice is calm and comforting. “These drolvden are my pets. They were just trying to play with me. They have been locked out all night long and are unused to the separation.”
“Drolv... what?” The wolves were just trying to play with him?
“Drolvden,” he patiently repeats. “They’re my companions and guard my home. They will keep the frightful beasts at bay.”
I gape at him. “Are you saying these beasts are your pets?”
Struggling to process this madness, I gaze past him at the not-so-dead drolvden, which have now become sentient carpets, staring back with equal parts curiosity and judgment.
