Page 8 of Bred By Fafnir

I do.

But barely.

The beast is huge, comparable to an Old Earth's elephant in reported size, maybeslightlysmaller. It’s a monstrous creature and if I were to tilt, even just a little, the ground would greet me, brutally and fast.

He commands the mount in his language with heavy mix of harsh rolling R’s.

A scream lodges in my throat as the creature breaks into a jarring leap before bowing its chest to the ground and springing forward with such force, Fafnir all but slams me against his chest, banding me there, his strong thighs pressing in on mine. “Bral'qorn.” He growls out a reprimand, and the large beast settles, rumbling his annoyance but pounding forward with a fluid grace that looks impossible for a creature of its size.

The ringing gruff and rhythmic call that leaves the towering man at my back makes goosebumps burst over my flesh, the rumble of it sinking into my skin where I’m still pressed tightly against him, his long tail draping over my thighs before it hooks on my hips, like a makeshift seatbelt. We’re flying over the open field, the icy wind scoring my cheeks raw as I see the other two mounts join us.

Fafnir’s beast lets out a savage warning snarl, snapping at the other two when they ride too close, forcing them to fall back. It’s not hard to see who outranks who. My pounding heart doesn’t settle so much as it beats with excitement instead of fear. My long hairwhips wildly behind me as I take in the picturesque snow tipped landscape, a huge smile breaking out over my face as we hurl forward.

six

Lenora

I’m not quite sure what I’d expected his home to look like, but its elegant and rustic exterior with panoramic floor to ceiling windows wasn’t quite it. It, like the other homes nearby, is spaced so vastly that it’d take me a solid twenty minutes to walk between the two. There are no yards, fences, or barriers. Just looks like someone picked up a home and plopped it in the middle of a field seamlessly, just part of the land. The mount, whose name I now know isValoryx, shifts underneath me, my fingers still knotted and white knuckling in his mane as Fafnir dismounts easily behind me, sliding off the back of the large animal like it's nothing.

My eyes are still taking in the house when my skin prickles, finding his intense gaze already on me. I gather the skirt of my dress up over my thighs to cover myself as I swing a leg over. His eyes dip, watchingthe movement with a warrior's focus before he reaches up, plucking me from the saddle as one would a child. I’ve never considered myself heavy per se, but never delicately built either. As far as he’s concerned, I’m no more than a feather. There’s something oddly alluring about that. The moment his back had left mine on the mount, the cold air had rushed back in, his body heat no longer there to ward off the worst of the chill. My teeth chatter wildly as he ushers me inside. The lack of a lock on the door sends my brows shooting skyward. On Terra2 and old Earth, by the sounds of it, anything not bolted down was free game.

Including you.

Now, instead of just worrying about other humans, we get to worry about aliens too, dropping into Terra2 atmosphere and taking us simply because, more often than not, there’s nothing anyone is going to do about it. The Intergalactic Alliance might do some half assed investigation before deeming the human lost to space and washing their hands of it.

I’m pulled by my thoughts as Fafnir drapes a soft, swathing fur pelt over my back, tucking it around me like a swaddle and heading for the large circular hearth that commands and dominates the middle of the dwelling. “This time of year is usually considered too warm for us to build fires indoors. You’ll have to forgive me for not readying one for you.” He grumbles.

“It’s alright, the wind was the worst part, really.”

His eyes flick toward mine, displeased with whatever he finds on my face.

I try to shake off the disappointed feeling that comes with that, directing my attention away from the large alien warrior building a fire in the hearth. Not flicking a switch or commanding an AI to start one, but building it. Even on Terra2, I’ve never seen anyone do that.

Instead of watching like I’m itching to do, I turn my eyes to the sky-high vaulted ceilings, realizing how uncomfortable it would’ve been for him to shift himself into that waiting room at Vortara Station. The inside of the home is as wide and open as the field it rests in, but filled with varying shades of brown, from dark to light, that keep it feeling warm and cozy. The entire back half of the house seems to be made up of windows. My feet act of their own volition, bringing me there.

Homesickness strikes harder than ever.

It's beautiful. The land, the house, but all I can think of is my mom and sisters back home with the dirt floor and rusted metal tables. Furs and rugs could almost be mistakenly thrown around the cozy and bright living room with no rhyme or reason until you take a step back and see the space as a whole. A huge, worn chair bears more signs of use than anything in the house. My lips almost quirk, having just found his favorite place to sit. The long bed sized couch is heaping with furs and pillows as well, but looks as staged and unused as the rest.

“The documents indicated humans appreciate warm, soft bedding.” He explains, now lording beside the hearth. His proud horns stretching skyward.

I nod, “Thank you, it-it’s beautiful here.”

His chest fills at that, gifting me a noncommittal grunt I nearly roll my eyes at. Various weapons line the walls, the worn handles showing signs they are or at leastwerea more functional place to store them versus an artistic choice.

He gestures toward the hearth. “Warm yourself female, I will tend the Sihlih.” Then he stalks from the house, the door shutting a little too hard behind him.

I frown, begrudgingly doing as he says, all the while wondering what the fuck aShil-uhis and why it needs to be tended more than the woman he intends to impregnate.

Plus, I really need to pee.

Fafnir

My hooves stomp across the frosted grass as I approach the mounts, my mood only souring the longer the little female, Lenora, is in my presence. Not by any fault of her own, simply her weak physical makeup. Already, I fear I’m making a mess of this caring for her venture. Her soft, smooth cheeks are ruddy and chapped from the ride on Valoryx. The only thing keeping me from cursing that decision was the delightful way she’d molded to my front, shrinking into me for safety when she was unsure.

The others saw it too; it was a statement; she thought of me as… safe.

Something I had long thought was impossible for a soft little female.

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