Page 26 of Captured By The Alien Barbarian
I’m so used to being underestimated and belittled by men, treated like some sort of inconvenience. And then there’s Taccit. He treats me like an equal—like I’m actually one of the rare twin suns that shine in his universe. From what I’ve seen, underneath that tough-guy exterior, he’s just a big ol’ softie. Perhaps the strong and possibly dangerous guy really just needs someone to love him. All his actions seem to revolve around making me happy—at least when my safety’s not on the line.
After he listens so patiently to me going on and on about leaving my family behind and feeling so isolated, it only seems fair to ask about his own family.
And that’s where things get awkward. The way he says, “You deserve to know the truth,” really gives me the creeps. It’s not like he killed his family... right?
“It’s been cycles since I last saw my tribe. After my sire’s death... I...”
He turns away, shoulders rising and falling as he takes deep breaths. He clenches his fists, making the muscles in his arms ripple. He’s all tension, just waiting to snap.
“My sire used to take me hunting when I was a youngling,” he continues. “One time, I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. I was more interested in playing than what he was trying to teach. So, when he left, I didn’t care about being quiet. I just kept playing, imagining crowds cheering me on, pretending to vanquish all who dared defy me.”
Taccit’s voice is dripping with sorrow, and I can’t help but focus on his words. It sounds like even little alien boys have their heroic fantasies, but I can sense this story doesn’t have a happy ending.
“Suddenly a beast was upon me. I don’t know where it came from, but it charged at me, slamming me to the ground. The pain... I still remember the pain. It was unbearable.”
“Oh, Taccit.” I move closer to him, wanting to comfort him. The memories clearly still haunt him. But he shakes his head and pulls his arm away from my touch.
“My sire saved me. He chased off the creature, but in doing so, he was severely injured.” Taccit’s gaze flicks to mine as he continues his tale. “I ran home. I barely remembered the way, and I think I got lost a few times. By the time my tribe found him...”
His head droops, and his long, straight black hair falls around his face, hiding it from view. No one should bear this kind of guilt. I can’t imagine how long Taccit has been carrying this burden, but it’s clearly weighing him down heavily.
“It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.”
Creating a deliberate barrier between us, Taccit retreats several steps.
“You don’t understand,” he says with a curled lip, as though he’s tasted something particularly disgusting. It seems not to be directed at me, but at himself. He starts pacing back and forth. “I used the medicine on him, and he hated me for it. I can still remember his shouts, screaming at me to get away...”
He’s right; I don’t understand. Why would a father scold his son for using life-saving treatment? And how old was he when this happened? Could his memory be distorted, influenced by his trauma?
Taccit is in quite an unpredictable mood, and I have to remind myself that I’m not exactly buddy-buddy with this guy. I don’t know what kind of reaction he will have when he’s this charged up. A part of me wants to trust him, and maybe even does trust him a bit...
“Maybe your sire wanted you to run from the beast, not him?” I ask tentatively, trying not to poke the bear too much.
Taccit pauses in his pacing. He blinks long and slow, as if it’s the first time he’s ever considered that his father might have been trying to protect him.
He closes his eyes, and there is so much pain there that I can’t help but step towards him. Instead of letting me embrace him, Taccit steps out of reach. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him actively move away from me, and I’m a little surprised at how hurt I am by his actions. Only a day or so ago, I was trying to avoid him, but now I am actively trying to comfort him. When exactly did I go from hating this guy to caring for him?
“I left him alone. I abandoned him.”
I shake my head vehemently. “You didn’t abandon him, Taccit. You said that you went to your tribe for help. You did everything you could to save him.”
“I doubt my elders saw it that way,” he says as he pushes a hand through his hair. His fingers snag in a knot, and he starts to yank on it with a frustrated growl.
“I took everything from them. My father was a chieftain. Without him, there was chaos. I couldn’t be there when they looked at me that way, so I left and...”
“Hey! Hey, it’s okay,” I rush forward and pull his hand away from his hair before he rips it from his scalp. He’s reluctant to let go, but slowly allows me to guide his movements.
I rub my hands over his biceps, feeling the muscles flexing beneath my soothing caress.
“You can’t always tell what other people are thinking or feeling. You described your father—sire—as hating you for using medicine on him. But no father could hate their youngling for trying to save them. I believe he just wanted you to get to safety.”
“Ariana...” Taccit says. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his firm chest. His forehead bends down and presses against mine, the pressure almost painful. I would complain, but the shaking of his body has me holding my tongue.
“Did your elders ever tell you what they thought? Did you ever actually ask them?”
Taccit shakes his head. “They didn’t need to. I can see it on their faces.”
“Ask them if you ever get a chance,” I advise, as a shudder runs through his body. I wrap my arms around his waist, tenderly caressing the bare skin of his back. “You might be in for a surprise. They might have a completely different perspective on things now that the dust and everyone’s emotions have had time to settle a bit.”
