Page 7 of Alokar
The eyes that had been narrowed in determination suddenly went impossibly wide, her full, pink lips forming a rather delightful and perfectly round “O” shape.
The rifle fell from her suddenly trembling hands, clattering against the ground as she staggered backward, with unsteady steps. “You... you can talk.”
Part of me knew I should retreat. Engage the cuddwisg device and approach her later, after she’d calmed. But I’d already made such a thoroughly bungled mess of the situation, why stop now? “Yes, female, I possess the ability to speak.”
Her eyes went wider still, threatening to consume her entire lovely face as it contorted with pure shock. “You speak English.” She took another stumbling step backward, her booted foot catching on an exposed tree root, and went down hard on her butt.
“Fuck!” I muttered under my breath, finally understanding why the human females enjoyed deploying the expletive with such relish. It succinctly expressed the complete fiasco of the last few moments.
The female’s eyes went wider still before rolling backward in her head. With a moan, she pitched backward, sprawling across the forest floor, her slender limbs arranged gracefully against the carpet of fallen pine needles and leaves. Tendrils of her obsidian hair had escaped the confines of her braid, creating a dark halo that framed her face. Her bronze skin had taken on an alarming pallor, dulled with an ashen undertone that made my chest constrict with worry.
I dropped to my knees beside her, the scattered stones biting into my skin through the denim as I leaned over her body.My fingers, trembling with the need to remain gentle, traced along the delicate curve of her skull, probing through the silky mass of her hair for any sign of injury. The ground beneath her head was mercifully soft—a thick cushion of moss and decaying vegetation rather than the jagged rocks and gnarled roots that jutted from the earth mere inches away. Her breathing came in shallow but steady pants, her chest rising and falling beneath the fitted fabric of her shirt, while her pulse fluttered rapidly but consistently within the pale column of her throat.
A simple faint, I diagnosed, relief flooding through my system. I’d grown familiar with this peculiar human phenomenon during my mother’s pregnancy with Jordan—the way consciousness could simply abandon the body without warning, leaving the person vulnerable and helpless.
Sliding my arms beneath her limp form, I lifted her against my chest with the same care I used with my baby sister. Her weight was so negligible I barely registered it—she felt fragile in my embrace, like holding captured moonlight. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I remembered her earlier ferocity, the way those storm-gray eyes had blazed as she’d gotten the tactical advantage over me. This delicate creature possessed the heart of a warrior, and the contradiction fascinated me beyond measure.
The metallic glint of her discarded rifle caught my attention, and I scooped up the weapon with my free hand, noting how its weight felt substantial and well-balanced—clearly an excellent weapon. My chest still smarted from the earlier blast.
The familiar sounds of her animal companions drifted through the trees—the soft nickering of the horse and the distinctive bray of what I now recognized as a mule. I followed the sounds to a small clearing where she’d secured their reins to a slender sapling, the white bark scarred by the leather straps. The horse stamped his hooves and snorted with protective alarm as I approached, carrying his unconscious mistress. The beast’s dark eyes rolled white with anxiety, nostrils flaring as he caught my alien scent.
Thankfully, animals all over the universe, including those on Earth, possessed an innate wisdom that transcended mere appearance. They could sense intent, read the electromagnetic signatures of emotion and purpose that humans remained blind to. Within moments, both creatures settled as they recognized I harbored no malicious intent toward them or their beloved female.
I settled her unconscious form onto a natural bed of deep green moss that carpeted the base of a large pine. Approaching the animals with slow, deliberate movements, I extended my hands palm-up in a gesture of peace. My fingers found the warm silk of their necks, stroking the coarse hair that covered powerful muscles while murmuring soft reassurances in my native tongue. The Kerzak words seemed to soothe them. Within minutes, we’d established a tentative friendship—though the mule’s responding bray sounded suspiciously like she’d called me a jackass in whatever primitive language Earth animals employed.
I returned the rifle to the leather scabbard—close enough for the female to reclaim when she awakened, but far enough toprevent another impulsive shooting. I rubbed a hand absently over my chest, noticing the rent in my shirt where the bullet had penetrated the cloth.
Shrugging off my canvas backpack, I settled cross-legged beside the female, the ground cool and slightly damp beneath me. I pulled a small plastic water bottle from my pack and found myself grateful for the seemingly mundane human purchase. Ripping a piece of fabric from the tail of my shift, I dampened it with the cool liquid, and began the delicate process of bathing her face with gentle, careful strokes.
The cool moisture against her skin provoked an immediate response—her nose scrunched in the most adorable fashion, creating tiny wrinkles across the bridge, while a soft moan escaped her parted lips. Color began returning to her cheeks in faint pink blooms, and her eyelids fluttered with the promise of returning consciousness.
A decision loomed before me. I could retreat into the shadows, behaving more vigilantly to avoid another painful encounter with her marksmanship skills. Or I could adopt pretense again and perhaps convince her to accept my companionship as we pursued quests that were more linked than she would ever know.
Shadow her in secret or walk by her side.
With a resigned sigh, I reached down and reactivated the cuddwisg device.
Chapter 4
Hannah
I slowly emerged from the darkness, my body aching as awareness crept back into my limbs. The world felt tilted and wrong. Everything remained foggy as I struggled to piece together what had happened. My head throbbed with a dull ache, and the bright sunlight streaming through the leaves made my eyes water. I remembered climbing up the mountain path, savoring the pine-scented air, and the joy of being in nature despite the purpose of my journey. Then I remembered the feeling—the electric prickling sensation crawling along my skin, a warning whispered from the breeze that something was wrong.
I slowed my steps to a cautious pace, my eyes sweeping across the shadowed undergrowth while my ears strained to catch every sound. It was faint, more instinct than anything concrete, but I knew without a doubt that something stalked me through the trees.
I tied Jubal and Bertha’s reins to a birch sapling, their nervous snorting echoing my unease, then carefully retraced my steps along the narrow trail. My father had taught me how to move like a ghost through the wilderness, each footfall silent and stealthy. Settling myself behind the rough bark of a massive pine, I waited. Long minutes crawled by until the beast finallyemerged from the shadows. It looked different from when it killed my dad—not quite as wild or vicious—but I wasn’t taking any chances. I sprang from my hiding place and fired.
The Marlin 1895 could drop a charging bear in its tracks, but this thing didn’t even flinch. Instead....
Holy shit, had the thing actually spoken to me?
And was it wearing clothes?
I scrambled to my knees, my palms scraping against small stones and decomposing leaves as I frantically searched for my rifle. A familiar whinny pierced the air, drawing my gaze toward where Jubal stood peacefully, his sorrel coat gleaming in the fading sunlight as he methodically worked his way through a patch of grass. There, secured in the worn leather scabbard hanging from his saddle, was my rifle.
A deep frown creased my brow as I pressed my palm against the side of my throbbing skull, trying to shake loose the fog that clouded my thoughts. Nothing made sense. I distinctly remembered leaving both Jubal and Bertha tethered at least a half mile down the trail. And the last I remembered of my rifle, Bigfoot had grabbed it and....
“Oh, you’re awake.”
