Page 3 of Ragnar

The form that appears at the top of the stairs makes my hair stand on end with awareness. It is the intense one. She is one of the tallest and strongest of the humans below, and whenever she is above ground, I must move very carefully to avoid detection. Her mind is strong, as strong as her spirit. She is always aware of the world around her and acts accordingly.

My nose wrinkles at the sight of her weapons, both in disdain and confusion. They never carry weapons to gather supplies from the shelves that hide me from their sight. They only ever carry a flashlight. What is the point? They will do no good against most of the aliens they might face.

Instead of walking towards Rolcor and my hiding spot, the dark-haired human female barely glances our way before approaching the large bay door. The unusual behavior puts me on high alert. She never goes out without checking the warehouse first. This time when my sails stand upright, it is from apprehension. Surely, she doesn’t intend to go outside. They retrieved vegetables not long ago and the garden is outside an opposite, much smaller door.

Forgetting all about Rolcor for a moment, I stare hard at the little human, willing her to back away from that door. On the other side of lies danger. A danger that drove Rolcor and I to hide away, to lay claim to a territory and defend it with our lives. This world is no longer safe for the little creatures. Hell, it is hardly safe for me, and I am easily twenty times her size. The little covered garden is safe enough in brief bouts. But the outside world is brutal and harsh.

Truly, I shouldn’t care about her intentions, but I do. My interest in humans stopped bothering me the moment I found their little hideout. Humans aren’t necessarily my enemy despite their world being a living nightmare. I don’t hate them irrationally, unlike most of the beings I traveled here with.

A lot of my fellow aliens went on killing sprees, seeing humans as nothing more than a pesky prey to be dealt with. Then again, a lot of the worlds that the beings were stolen from were far less advanced than human society. Their lives were kill-or-be killed and being placed on Earth didn’t change that. My own world didn’t have the same technology, but our social awareness was similar even if our habits were different.

The beast within me growls, challenging the veneer of civility I so desperately try to hang onto, holding out much longer than most males of my kind. To my horror, it takes notice of the human woman, locked onto her like a predator seeing its prey. A direct contradiction to my thoughts a few moments ago.

Shoving down my urge to hunt, to maim and destroy, I focus on her actions noting the way her hands shake as she carefully lifts the large bay door a few inches. Casting one last look back at her home, she disappears beneath the door before slowly shutting it after her. The ensuing silence is loud to my sensitive ears as they try to follow the sounds of her crunching footsteps, making their way further from the safety of her hideout.

“She is going to die.” Rolcor murmurs, sadness tingeing his words. For the last few months, we have done nothing but bicker with one another, using the humans as a distraction from our own despair. Silently we have been cheering them on in their bid for survival. A way to claim some semblance of control and normalcy. The thought of losing one of the little creatures is like a stab to my three hearts, a sentiment Rolcor seems to share.

“Why would she go outside? They just recently picked the earthen growths that they eat. Their water system is still functional. The sound keeps me up most nights. What else would she need that would drive her outside?” I growl back, climbing to my feet I almost bolt after her, feeling a draw towards her, a need to follow to make sure she is alright. Light floods the space as I do, revealing the large hole in the ground that we use to enter the warehouse.

“The sick one.” Rolcor murmurs, something in his words and tone make me snap my gaze back to him.

“What?” I ask, confused and angry. There hasn’t been a scent of sickness that I could detect. New fear shoots through me. Has he detected something and not told me?

My inner beast rises, the sudden influx of emotions making my grasp on him loosen, if only marginally. Sensing the change in me, Rolcor shifts further up on the ceiling, out of my reach.

“The sick one. A few weeks ago, one of them came into the warehouse to gather supplies from the shelves. She fell from the low ladder and injured her arm. The others carry her scent, but it is wrong. Like she carries a sickness in her wound.” His eerie number of eyes shift until a faint glow begins in them. The look isn’t one I have ever seen on his face, and I am immediately suspicious of the story he tells. He is leaving details out, to what end I do not know.

A human shout distracts me though and I whip my head around towards the direction the human woman went. It was her. I know that without a shadow of a doubt. Fear for her rises within me again and I finally recognize the emotion for what it is. Pack bonding. Hatred for my nature fills me even as relief does too. The obsession for the little beast makes sense in a way that it didn’t before. I’ve pack-bonded with Rolcor and the little creatures despite them not being one of my kind.

As much relief as I feel, I also feel the panic that comes with the responsibility. One doesn’t simply let their pack be separated. My inner beast agrees, urging me to go after her. To return my pack to the way it should be. How I didn’t see it sooner, I do not know. My inner beast is never quiet, and he has been about the humans. It should have been my first sign that something was wrong.

“I must go after her.” I say, my voice gravelly with the influence of my beast.

“I will keep the rest of them safe.” Rolcor murmurs, soothing any guilt I feel at leaving the rest behind. Something about the little human drives me to find her above all else. To bring her back to the safety of the warehouse. To provide what she would need.

Refusing to think about it further, I turn and dig my way out into the bright light of Earth’s morning. Snout pressed to the ground, I easily pick her scent up and follow it out of the clearing down into the surrounding trees. When I reach my scent barrier, the mark where my territory ends, I feel my panic for the little human rise. How had she gotten so far, so quickly? And why did she shout when stealth keeps you alive?

Running now, I follow her scent further, aware that other scents begin to mingle with it. There are others on her trail. In one place her scent gets stronger, as if she stands before me. Blood. Her blood glistens on the grass. In the distance I hear a gunshot ring out, loud in the quiet of the trees.

The sail along my spine rises with my anger and I feel the beast within me gain control, if only for a moment. A vicious howl rises from deep within me, reverberating through my chest until I feel like it rattles my entire soul. A cry torn straight from the mouth of my beast, driven by scent and blood.

My beast fully in control, her scent hits me like a raging Sscentar beast. It slams into me full force and despite my desperate grasps for control, my beast takes over, roaring his message to the sky repeatedly as he runs. Her scent drives him forward now, his roars warning anything that might hear his cry to not touch our little human. Our claws tear up the ground as we run, transforming into our true beastly form, a nightmare to be avoided at all costs.

A Memnar male at his strongest, his true form released when he finds the one who can free him from the bonds of civility and restraints of control placed upon him. A male on a mission willing to kill anything in his path. Anything that touches what is his will meet death with tooth and claw. Anyone who touches her.

“Mate.” My beast howls to the sky once more, and for once we merge as one, a new being. A stronger male on a mission.

Chapter Three

*Reggie*

Though my heart aches, I leave as fast as I can. My sisters will find some reason I should stay if I linger. Within the hour, I am packed and ready, holstering our father’s handgun while slinging his rifle over my shoulder. Kaine watches me, sadness in her eyes. I do not take offense that Michelle and Steph aren’t here to tell me goodbye. It is never easy to say goodbye, not in this world. You never know if it will be your last.

“They love you; they just don’t handle this well. You are their younger sister. They look at us like babies.” Kaine murmurs, her voice wavering as she voices my thoughts. Pasting on a fake smile, I turn and give her a hug.

“It's fine Kaine. I know they love me as much as I love them. Watch Steph for me and please make sure she takes her meds. Promise that you will stay in the bunker no matter what. If I do not come back, do not come looking for me.” She nods and then there is nothing left to be said. Or rather, there is too much being left unsaid. Too many regrets, too many emotions. Too many things that threaten to overwhelm me, namely fear. Fear that if I don’t do this now, I will chicken out. Failure isn’t an option, not when my sisters need me.

Kaine is as awash with emotion as I am. I can see her denial, the desire to fight me on this. To demand promises of me. To demand that I return safely but we both know I can’t make that promise. The monsters outside are no joke. I could be dead before the day is over. Making empty promises is more hurtful than saying nothing at all.

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