Page 57 of An Alien for the Farm

“Zynar?”

His gaze slides down my naked form, lingering on my chest and I see when his brows furrow. I’m not sure what to make of his response. Is he regretting this? Is this some sort of post-nut shock?

But even as those thoughts rise in my head, I know that’s not the case, because when Zynar meets my gaze again something flutters within me despite that he’s acting so strange.

“Varek,” he groans. “Call Varek.”

He’s walking now, stumbling away from me and using the wall as support. It takes a moment for me to realize that he’s leaving. I hop from the bed, completely naked, and hurry after him. I hear crashing sounds as he collides with the table before I spot him at the front door.

He’s really leaving, but he turns one last time. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze catches mine before he pulls the door open and stumbles out into the pouring rain.

I run after him, stopping just on the edge of the porch.

Maybe it’s good we’re in the wilderness. Maybe it’s good we have no neighbors. I’m in my birthday suit and so is he. I watch in terror as he stumbles against the old well before righting himself and carrying on. He looks drunk but I know that’s not what this is. This is something else.

One claw gripped to his chest, he uses the other to guide him toward the barn. I start to go after him before I come to my senses and run back into the house.

Grabbing a linen robe, I wrap it around myself before I slip my shoes on. It takes me just about a minute before I’m out in the rain too, running after him and calling his name. There’s no response, and that makes anxiety rise in the center of my chest.

When I try to pull the barn doors open, they don’t budge. More panic. More anxiety.

“Zynar?!” No response.

I tug on the doors again but they don’t budge. He’s barred them from the inside.

“What on Earth?” I slap my hands against the doors, the rain pouring down so hard I can hardly see. “Zynar, open the door. Let me in!”

I’m actually huffing and puffing but in pure desperation, not hunger. My fingers dig into the wood as I hear him groan on the other side of the bolted doors. He’s in pain. Terrible pain.

My chest heaves as I look around, but there’s nothing I’d be strong enough to lift to break this door down. A back door then? I’m moving before any other thought enters my mind.

The rain soaks through my clothes as I walk around the building. There are no other doors, and hopelessness rises. There is, however, a bit of a plank that’s broken, providing a long vertical tear in the otherwise uniform barn wall. I move closer, peering through the hole and squinting, trying to see inside some more.

At first, I don’t see him. Everything in there is too dark. All I see is the outlines of ooga butt in the dim light. But then I catch a glimpse of fuchsia. Zynar.

He’s stark naked, standing at the far end near the barn doors. He’s still gripping his chest before he falls to his knees. My breath hitches.

“Zynar!” He needs help. A hospital maybe. No, most definitely. He looks like he’s dying. Did I kill him? With my… Oh my god, did I kill him?

The moment I shout his name his head snaps up. Those narrow slits in his eyes find me like I’m on some kind of beacon. He stares at me across the distance before he’s suddenly moving as if given some kind of command. He cuts across the distance much faster than I’ve ever seen him move before. As if the pain is suddenly gone. Before I know it, he’s right before me, staring at me through that single crack in the wood.

My eyes widen at the state of the male before me. He looks exactly like the playful Kari that came to my rescue. Everything except for his eyes. Zynar’s eyes are predatorial. His head tilts as he snarls behind the wood, gaze honed in on me. His chest is still heaving with labored breaths that are still not quite uniform. And that vibration? That unique vibration is still there.

When he suddenly inhales, he pulls so much air inside his lungs I can hear it.

A deep growl escapes him a second later as he leans into the wood. My gaze shifts as something else moves and my focus lands on his groin. He’s hard. Harder, if that’s possible, than before. He even looks larger. My eyes are wide as I shift them back up to him. I have no idea what’s happening, but it’s clear I have to do something, anything I can, to help him.

Despite the warning signals in my head, I push my fingers through the crack. It’s just big enough to fit my entire hand as I reach for him. Fingers splayed, I go on tiptoes to brush my hand across his jaw. He shudders, makes a growling sound, but leans in. I’m almost knocked back by the powerful scent that wafts into my nose. I moan, I actually do as my hand caresses his jaw. Deep down below, my core clenches, his scent seeming like a battery to some kind of new energy that courses through me.

Whatever’s affecting him, it’s affecting me too.

Zynar tilts his head into my palm, inhaling deeply before he suddenly grabs my hand. I let out a soft yelp. It’s not painful, but the suddenness of his grasp makes my heart jump.

With a slow lick, he licks the entirety of my palm, sending shivers all the way through me. He groans, his ears flicking. A strange movement goes through his scales, a shiver, and the vibration increases before he grips his chest again. His gaze suddenly finds mine and I see some of the Zynar I know behind those yellow pits.

He releases me then and staggers away.

“Go, Liora,” he growls. “Call Varek. Go now before I—”

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