Page 41 of Captured By The Alien Barbarian
“What on Earth are you doing?” I say with a laugh.
“He’s calling me,” a deep voice says, way too close for comfort.
I shriek, tripping over my own two left feet as I scramble back from the mysterious stranger.
Casually leaning against a tree nearby is an alien, but this guy looks nothing like Taccit. First off, his skin is a striking azure blue that fades to a softer shade on his neck and chest. Oh, and did I mention he’s got scales?
Standing even taller than Taccit, this fellow wears a stylish light blue wrap vest. The fabric hangs loose around him, cinched closed at the waist. He has a matching pair of loose flowing pants.
“Scales,” I blurt out, my brain struggling to compute the differences between Taccit and his slippery comrade.
He steps from beneath the tree, stalking silently over to us. From each elbow juts a long spiky fin. It looks dangerous.
The newcomer raises his hands, palms facing inwards. Is this some form of alien greeting? I quickly glance at Taccit, who’s mimicking the same gesture. Not wanting to be impolite, I give it a go myself.
The male’s eyes land on mine, and his shoulders lift and rise with a huff. If I didn’t know better, he was laughing at me. How rude.
“And who is this delightful creature?” he says. The male’s golden-eyed gaze rakes up and down my body.
I resist the powerful urge to hide behind Taccit, to seek refuge in the strong fortress of his arms. Instead, I lift my chin proudly and meet his gaze head-on.
Taccit strides over to the azure outsider, and suddenly they’re hugging and slapping each other’s backs like long-lost brothers. Their chummy rapport helps set me further at ease.
“Don’t scare my mate, Melvall,” Taccit playfully says, shoving the male away just for show.
Taccit exudes brute strength and bulging muscles. In contrast, the new guy—Melvall—has a sleek, swimmer-like build and moves with an almost poetic grace. He may be a little intimidating at first glance, but he radiates confidence and a bizarrely calming vibe.
Melvall’s eyes widen in surprise, and he swivels his head toward me. “Did you say ‘mate’?”
Taccit holds out his hand, beckoning me to join them. I try to walk to him calmly, but I suspect I still look like I scurry to his side. “This is my perfect little mate, Ariana. Ariana, this is Melvall,” Taccit says, pulling me in for a spine-crushing side hug.
Part of me is actually terrified of this new gentleman in front of me. But more than anything, my emotions are all over the place after Taccit referred to me as his mate. I know he is introducing me to someone, but I don’t realize I’d feel so touched by his proud acceptance of me.
I press my face into his ribcage, attempting to hide the sentimental tears threatening to give me away.
“Ariana, if ever there is an emergency and I am not around, you should come straight here to Melvall. Melvall will see to your safety until I return.” Taccit must see the doubt lingering behind my eyes, or perhaps I am just that bad at keeping a straight face. He laughs heartily, his chest heaving.
“I know, I know,” he says between guffaws, “he doesn’t look like much. Puny, really. And a bit slimy. But I swear on my ancestors that he is a good male.”
Melvall just stands there, brow ridges raised and lips slightly parted. “Uh, not sure if I should be offended or flattered,” he says to himself.
Finally catching his breath, Taccit gives Melvall a friendly slap on the shoulder. His laughter slowly dies to a more manageable state. “So, I brought payment for our last trade. And...” he glances down at me, his eyes full of good-natured mischief, “anything you can trade that my mate might like.”
Taccit’s quick jump straight to business is enough to snap Melvall out of his stunned countenance.
Banging his fist ceremoniously on his chest, Melvall replies, “I am honored to meet you, Ariana, mate of Taccit. If there is anything in my collection that I can trade, then rest assured that I will charge your mate well for it.” He tosses me a conspiratorial wink.
Taccit shoots a glare at Melvall, but I can’t help snickering. He softens when he looks at me.
“To be honest, I’m not quite sure what I’ll need,” I say, scuffing my shoe in the dirt, deep in thought. Why hadn’t I considered what I might need when we were coming here, knowing Taccit was here to trade? Ah, that’s right. I’d half expected an alien shopping mall and window shopping—not this... whatever this is.
“Definitely some clothes that fit better—oh, and warm shoes. Very warm ones.”
I’ve never experienced winter on this planet—no humans have yet—but from what I hear it is expected to be brutal. I have no idea what level of cold to anticipate, but I want to be prepared if possible. If I’m feeling the chill now, I expect that I will be freezing once the snows finally fall.
Melvall appraises me for a moment, humming thoughtfully. “I can set you up with the same gear our hunters use when they travel from home. Of course, we’ll need to make some adjustments for... um... sizing,” he says, eyeing me up and down. Somewhat surprisingly, this time around, his gaze feels more clinical, somehow less intrusive. “You’re quite tiny, like a little one. Forgive me for asking, but are you of age for your species? Taccit means well, but... um... are you sure this brute hasn’t hurt you?”
Taccit growls, gripping his axe, while a menacing glare is aimed at Melvall.
