Page 17 of Primal Vow

When Taryn finally called for a break, none of them were too proud to refuse. They made camp at the edge of a roaring waterfall, its mist cooling the air. As Krye and Jorah set up a temporary shelter, Soren and Worrack gathered firewood, and Taryn scouted the area for any signs of danger.

In the moments of downtime, as the fire crackled and the sound of the waterfall filled the air, Rhys had a chance to observe the Borraq in a non-combative setting.

Despite the fact that their faces were alien, their bodies were much the same as humans'. When they laughed and jostled each other, their camaraderie was familiar. As they ate a simple meal of roasted meat — best not to think about what kind of alien beast it came from — and rough bread, there was nothing in their interactions that set them apart from any group of soldiers sharing a moment of rest.

Taryn was a harsh leader, demanding nothing but the best from his men — but he also shared in their hardships, eating the same simple meal and enduring the same tiredness at the end of a long day. He jested with his men, his deep voice joining in with their lighter tones. When he thought no one else was looking, a rare smile crossed his face, free of any burdens.

In moments like these, the Borraq weren't the enemy. Despite their horns and golden skin, they were simply men, far from their homes, enduring the hardships of a long campaign.

As Rhys watched the flames dance and listened to the warriors' tired but contented conversation, a new kind of longing filled him. He found himself wishing that he could call a place like this home, that he could fight for something as pure and untamed as Vasz.

But a man like him could never belong on a world like this. He was as much of a creature of cities and steel as any other human, through and through. This kind of life was meant for other men.

Rhys flinched as Taryn knelt beside him, the Borraq's piercing green eyes scrutinizing Rhys's condition. "How is your shoulder?"

"What— oh, yeah." Rhys had completely forgotten it. That little alien pill had done its work. "Um, it's fine. The rest of me feels like it's been chewed up and spat out, but my shoulder feels okay. Not bad for alien first aid," Rhys said with a small grin, hoping to lighten the mood. "You'd make a pretty good medic."

Taryn shot a quick look at Rhys, something wary in his expression. Rhys realized that the Borraq wasn't sure if Rhys was making fun of him or not. "I would not. I am a warrior."

Rhys grinned. "I don't know, I bet one day all this proud warrior stuff is going to get boring. I could see you tending to coughing infants and listening to old peoples' complaints all day."

Something tugged at the stern set of Taryn's mouth. "I would prefer not to."

For a moment, there was something light between them. Rhys was about to make another joke — but then a look crossed Taryn's face, something harsh that snuffed out that slight smile.

Taryn's expression went back to being stoic. He gave a curt nod of approval before rising to his feet once more. "Keep yourself healthy. We don't have time to care for you."

There was an abruptness to Taryn's movements, a tension in the lines of his body that hadn't been there before. He turned away from Rhys, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. "I will check the perimeter again."

Without another word, Taryn stalked off into the foliage, leaving Rhys to watch his retreating form with a furrowed brow. Their species were enemies — but it was almost as if Taryn couldn't bear to be around him for too long.

As the sounds of Taryn's passage faded into the distance, Rhys became aware of someone watching him. The youngest of Taryn's warriors, the clever one, was watching him with open curiosity.

Seizing the opportunity, Rhys turned to face the Borraq youth. "Hey, Jorah, right? Can I ask you something?"

Jorah blinked at him, surprise flickering across his features at being directly addressed by their alien captive. "Um…" He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. "You may proceed, human."

Rhys considered his words carefully. "I've noticed that Taryn seems... tense around me. Like he can't stand to be near me for too long. What's up with that?"

Understanding dawned in Jorah's eyes. He leaned in conspiratorially, his urge to gossip clearly stronger than his wariness. "Ah, yes — I can explain that." He glanced around furtively before continuing in a low voice. "You see, to us Borraq, humans have a very... enticing scent."

Rhys frowned. "A scent?"

Jorah nodded solemnly. "Your pheromones, your natural scent — it's incredibly distracting to our heightened senses." He grimaced apologetically. "It's a struggle for us to be around humans for extended periods without becoming... distracted."

A sinking feeling settled in Rhys's gut as he began to understand. Those rumors about Borraq eating humans had something to them after all. "That's why Taryn can't stay near me for long? I smell too good?"

It was ridiculous, but it apparently wasn't a joke. "Exactly." Jorah reached into a pouch at his waist, withdrawing a small jar filled with a thick, greenish paste. "That's why he made us all wear this salve. It blocks out your scent, and stops us from having to resist… um, you."

He held it out for Rhys to inspect. Rhys leaned in, catching the sharp, earthy aroma. Yeah, anyone wearing that wasn't going to be able to smell anything else, that was for sure.

Incredulous, Rhys snorted. "Resist… how? What, like we smell edible to you?"

Jorah hesitated, looking away. "It's not that you smell tasty. It's more... Um… Your scent is distracting. It affects us."

"Affects you how?"

Jorah's eyes flicked back to Rhys's, and there was something in his expression that sent a chill down Rhys's spine. "It's just that... Well, when humans are around, it's hard to think about anything else."

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