Page 10 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

Zohro made a growling sound, then slammed his knife back into its sheath. I thought I heard him muttering something aboutmales without honourbut I couldn’t be sure.

“I will have to take you to the warden,” Zohro said, a modicum of control back in his voice. But even if he sounded slightly calmer than a moment ago, he certainly didn’t sound happy at the prospect. My heart sank. I was fairly certain that my arrival had royally screwed up Zohro’s life somehow.

Just like Pa’s.

“His wife, Tasha, is the bride program coordinator. She is human. She will know what to do with you.”

“Oh. Alright! Well, thank you,” I said again. I supposed, after everything, this wasn’t a bad outcome. Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan so far, but Zohro would help me get on track. Deliver me to the people who’d help sort me out. “How long will it take to get there?”

“Two or three days by shulduback.”

“Shulduback?”

He still held the reins in one big fist. He lifted them meaningfully.

“Oh! This beauty. She’s a shuldu?”

“Yes. Her name is Wyn.”

“Wyn! Well isn’t that a name just as pretty as you!” I cooed, patting her smooth, glossy neck. But then my tone turned serious, fear tightening my vocal chords. “But I can’t ride her.”

He gave a surprised grunt at that. “You handled her well. I assumed you had some previous experience with mounts like her.”

“Oh, I do!” I said quickly. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here with no applicable skills. “But I, um, have a medical condition.”

“A medical condition,” he repeated, sounding entirely unconvinced.

“A temporary one!”

“If you cannot ride,” Zohro rumbled, sounding annoyed, “the warden can come and get you on his slicer.”

“What’s a slicer?”

The name did not sound promising.

“It is a very fast vehicle. One or two people may be mounted upon it, and it slices through the air.”

“Like… Like flying through the air? Like a small shuttle?”

“No, it has no walls or doors like a shuttle. It is more like a mechanized shuldu with no legs. You ride atop it and hold the handlebars.”

Well, that sounded even more dangerous than falling off a freaking horse! Shuldu! Damnit!

“I don’t think I can do that,” I said, shaking my head rapidly, mouth going dry.

Zohro let out a tight breath.

“If you refuse to ride either shuldu or slicer-”

“Hey!”

“-then you will have to travel by wagon,” he went on as if not hearing me. He suddenly flexed his hand roughly, as if it had fallen asleep and the numbness was bugging him. It was the hand I’d shaken. The sweaty one. “I do not have a wagon in good repair. I will have to set aside time to fix it. On top of my other work, this might take days.”

Days. Shit.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me stay on your ranch during that time?” I asked in a small voice. I’d come here hoping to find a home. And now I found myself begging for a place at his.

Am I ever going to find somewhere that welcomes me? Somewhere I don’t have to work to earn my place? Somewhere I am wanted?

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