Page 32 of Ragnar

“ENOUGH QUESTIONS ABOUT HER SCREAMING!” Ragnar grits out, glaring at the twins that flank him on either side.

“Why is Ragnar angry?” Kil asks, easier to tell apart after two more long days of travel. His eyes are a slightly darker color than Kan’s and he is taller. I smile at his tentative attempt to speak in English. Most of his previous attempts were harder to understand. He is getting better. Ragnar says in a few days, their translators will be as good as his.

“Because you aren’t supposed to ask about private things, it is rude.” Talnag admonishes. Their dynamic is comical. Even though we are all growing tenser by the day, they maintain their brother-like behavior. Talnag is the older, more analytical one. Ragnar is the slightly unhinged but reliable middle child. The twins are the obnoxious, overly curious younger siblings.

“Her screams not private. We heard.” Kan argues, defending his twin. Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but blush. They’ve been hounding Ragnar and I about our night in the warehouse since we woke up that next morning. Anything that happens between Ragnar and I become their favorite topic. It would be cute if they didn’t keep circling back to sex…and my inability to be quiet.

“Are we leaving town today?” I ask, changing the subject. Talnag huffs, shoving his way between Kan and Ragnar to prevent the brewing fight.

“That is the plan. We haven’t caught signs of pursuit since yesterday morning. Ragnar tells me that you have a protected dwelling?” He tilts his head curiously, though half his concentration is on the surrounding buildings.

“Yes. We live in an underground bunker that sits beneath our warehouse. The only time we have to go outside is when we need supplies from the shelves. No monster has ever gotten into our warehouse that we know of.” I answer, taken aback when Ragnar tenses beneath me.

“That is not entirely correct, little mate.” He says gruffly, twisting so I can see the side of his face. He must see the confusion on mine because he pauses to look back at me fully.

“Did you never wonder how I found you so quickly?” He asks, and for the first time I truly think about the circumstances of our first encounter.

“Son of a bitch. No, I didn’t. How did you find me?” I ask, almost afraid to hear his answer. A million wild scenarios flit through my mind. Was he stalking me? Could he stalk me through the ground?

“I lived in your warehouse for months with another alien. We would watch you and your siblings come and go, and we used our scents to mark your territory to drive other aliens away.” His words are like a punch in the gut. Taking advantage of his inaction, I slide off his back so that I can face him for this conversation. Now aware of their size, the twins back away to make room.

“What in the fuck do you mean? There is no way you could have been living there without one of us noticing. It isn’t that big!” I argue, wanting to get to the bottom of this. Will my sisters never be safe, not even in the bunker? I no longer lump myself with them. My future is with Ragnar, wherever that may be. Even if he is a big, creepy fucking stalker.

“Rolcor lived in the rafters, and I dug a hole in the back corner that I could duck down into to appear as if I was part of the floor. A piece of farming equipment hid me as well.” He states as if it is of no consequence. Panic sets in at the first mention of this new alien.

“Who is Rolcor and what is he doing in the ceiling of our warehouse?! Are my sisters safe?” My breathing picks up pace as the worry and fear begin to take over. Ragnar sends me a calming vibration before rubbing his face along my body to calm me. Angrily I swat at him, mad that he kept this from me for so long.

“Rolcor is… he is my packmate. He is from my home world and was there with me on the ship. He considered your sisters part of our pack, just as I did. They are safe in his care. He will not let any other approach during my absence.” Ragnar murmurs, ignoring my attempts to swat him away.

“He is like you?” I ask, trying to remember how many Memnars live in the area.

“No. He is Grexarian.” The words are barely out his mouth before the others are grumbling out their disdain. My fear amps up. If these guys find Gexarians intimidating, what could they possibly look like?

“You befriended a Grexarian? Were you that desperate for a companion?” Talnag demands, shuddering. Ragnar rolls his eyes, ignoring the ribbing of the others.

“He is a kind male and has been protecting your family long before I came. He allowed me to join him, and I owe him many thanks. I was in the area first but he was guarding you for months before I discovered what he was up to. Without him, I would never have found you. Do you trust me?” All the tension bleeds out of me with that simple question. Of course I trust him.

“Of course I trust you. Were you really there for months and we never knew it?” I play back every time I ever went outside our bunker, and yet not once did I ever suspect that something as magnificent as Ragnar lived in the shadows.

“Yes. I was intrigued by your family. Your resilience called to my own and I made a promise to myself that I would keep you all safe for as long as I could. When you left the bunker, I worried for your safety. It was only when I caught your scent that I realized you were my mate.” He nudges me again, pushing me back towards his leg.

With the help of his spikes, I climb to my place on his back, considering his words. It truly is funny how fate works. None of this would have ever happened if I hadn’t left the bunker. Glancing around, I note the destruction, but I also see the beauty. The world that has thrived with humans gone. Our world is broken, but it isn’t dead. A viewpoint I owe completely to my mate. He has given me back an appreciation for life, to see that not everything is gone. That happiness can wear many masks.

“Grexarians are ugly.” Kan dead pans, breaking the tension. I laugh quietly, all too aware of the monsters that could be watching us even now. As if he is thinking the same thing, Ragnar scans around us before moving forwards once more.

“Most of the aliens were. Did you see some of them? A few were bad enough to haunt my dreams.” Ragnar shudders at the memories, drawing another laugh from me.

“It is all in your perspective. I thought you intended to eat me when I first saw you.” Ragnar huffs out his own laugh.

“I saved your life. I would hardly have eaten you after defeating a Gersil. Surely you trusted me after that.” He argues lightheartedly. I can’t argue with his logic. The tentacled soccer ball of doom was easily the ugliest thing I’ve seen yet.

“I did indeed. That fucker was nasty.” I add a dramatic shudder after my words, earning me a grin from the twins.

“We think Gersils are tasty. They are fun to rip the tentacles from so we can play with their bodies.” Kil deadpans, and I don’t doubt the seriousness of his words. He is slightly more unhinged than his twin.

“That is cruel.” Talnag growls out, disgusted.

“They are cruel.” Kil responds, shrugging his massive shoulders. I bite my lip, unsure how to revive the conversation. It is so easy to forget they aren’t human…until one of them says something diabolical and it comes rushing back.

---