O'Rrin The Protector, page 19
part #1 of Thoherian Barbarians Series
“They are the tributes, the slaves of the Caterri,” Yrrix murmured, and then something feral and pleased came into his voice. “Like you will be. All of the small ones are females, and you see those metal bracelets? They have been magically infused by the Caterri, so if the tributes try to escape or fight back, they will die.”
“What about the warriors?” I managed.
“Also tributes.” He shrugged. “Some years, instead of females, they demand the strongest warriors.”
My heart ached. He seemed so ambivalent about turning people over, and my anger grew. Who wanted to live in the world where their life wasn’t worth anything? To Yrrix, we were all tradable. None of our lives mattered more than the other, as long as we had a vagina. I didn’t speak, but my hand skimmed over the small pocket on the side of my pants. The blue flower I had taken so many eons ago was still there, still wrapped in the small bit of cloth. I thought of the poison on it, how dangerous O’Rrin had told me it was. It would be my last resort.
I couldn’t live like that, being sold into the Caterri. I refused to be raped or eaten or starved or anything else the Caterri wanted to do. There was still the hope that O’Rrin would come for me, but the closer we got to the fancier-looking buildings, the more the ache in my heart grew. O’Rrin was just one person. Could he infiltrate all of this by himself? Hopefully, the others had made it back to the village they were looking for. If I couldn’t help them myself, I would help them by ruining Yrrix’s attempt at a tribute, his attempt to deceive the Caterri and send them after the other humans.
The humming around us, the busy people, seemed to grow, the people’s movements growing slower. Soon we were surrounded by more N’Akron than Caterri, all with that same haunted look. Even some of the Caterri looked fragile. Yrrix slowed, the knife still pressed against my back, as he tried to figure out what was going on. Then I saw him.
Standing at the end of the ‘road’, dressed in his usual leathers, was O’Rrin. His eyes flashed red with fury, and I could tell the moment he saw me because they turned red and stayed that way. My heart skipped a beat at the thought he was so outraged over what had happened to me. He really did care.
“Guards!” Yrrix shouted, taking steps back. He pulled the knife out from behind me and held it to my throat, although his hand trembled. “Get me guards!”
The Caterri around us were slowly being overwhelmed by the N’Akron, slaves and traveling warriors alike. They all stood silently, staring at Yrrix, at me. Now that the robe was almost gone, they could probably tell I was something different. No matter whether we escaped or not, the Caterri would know we existed, and that would cause problems.
“If you get closer, I’ll kill her,” Yrrix threatened, the sharp edge of the knife touching my throat. A drop of blood trickled down it, not that I could see it. No, I could tell in the flash of O’Rrin’s eyes, the way they tracked my throat and the way his rage seemed to multiply.
O’Rrin straightened, pulling a knife out of…somewhere. “What do you think the consequences of killing another’s mate in the middle of the capital would be?” He sounded strangely cool, like he didn’t care, but I could tell he did. Even Yrrix knew that for the moment, he held the advantage because he held me.
Not for long. I could tell he was starting to panic, the knife digging ever so slightly into my skin, and I tried to strategize. If they fought, others could get hurt, and the guards would have more of a reason to interfere and hurt O’Rrin. I didn’t care much about Yrrix.
“Stay away!” Yrrix shouted, starting to drag me back. I dropped my weight as much as I could, trying to become a bag of potatoes that wasn’t going anywhere.
It wasn’t a subtle rebellion, and Yrrix hissed in my ear, the knife digging in deeper. “If you do not cooperate, I will kill you in front of that pathetic mate of yours.”
When the blade sliced into my skin, I screamed, trying not to sob when that made the knife hurt a little bit worse. But whatever it was, he stopped, whether it was my scream or not.
It wasn’t, because when I opened my eyes, I could tell the N’Akron had caged us in, all attention on Yrrix and O’Rrin. He was still a handful of feet away, but I could feel the comforting strength he radiated like an aura. When he looked at me, his eyes were comforting. The rage momentarily disappeared, replaced by the same affection that ran through my veins.
No matter what, I did love him. That big, crazy, snaky alien was my mate. My forever mate. For all it was obscene in the moment, I wanted to smile at the realization. I was being held hostage, there was a knife to my throat, but I was happy.
Obviously, I was going crazy.
“Stay back.” Yrrix’s voice was higher now, a note of hysteria in it that worried me. I stiffened, trying to remain as still as I could, but I had to do something. He was starting to go unhinged, and I was afraid if his hand slipped, if he was startled, I would suffer for it. Then I remembered. The plant in my pocket. I could easily get that on him while he wasn’t paying attention to me.
“I just want Hetta,” O’Rrin said calmly, although this time his attention was on my kidnapper instead of me. He was still far enough away that I didn’t think he would be affected, and the wind wasn’t blowing in his direction.
Instead of paying attention to them, I snuck my hand into my pocket, gripping the blue flower in its wrap. I didn’t know if it affected humans like it did N’Akron, but it was better safe than sorry. Then I waited.
I counted my breaths, counting the seconds, the tension knotting my muscles until it hurt. Yrrix’s harsh pants were moist against the back of my neck, and I clutched the flower tighter. Then O’Rrin must have said or done something, because Yrrix snarled, his grip on the knife loosening.
Knowing I had mere seconds, I ducked and smashed the flower into his face, ignoring the petal that brushed against my skin. I wasn’t hyperventilating, but it was close. This was my one shot at freedom, really. O’Rrin was there to save me, but I knew Yrrix would kill me if he felt he had to.
The hand holding the knife against my throat spasmed before the blade clattered uselessly to the ground, Yrrix staggering back and finally letting me free.
O’Rrin moved forward and stabbed him through the throat. I gulped and looked away. I didn’t want to see it, no matter how justified it was. Instead, I focused on the future. I didn’t think of the image I had in my mind of how pale Yrrix’s scales had gotten or how dry they looked or how blood-red his eyes and claws were getting. Whatever was in that poison, it was nasty stuff.
My stomach lurched, and I put a hand on it, wondering if I was hungry. Then it tightened, cramping, and it became harder to breathe. Oh, fuck. I rarely swore, but this deserved it. O’Rrin pulled me into his arms, murmuring words I couldn’t hear, although I could feel the way he touched me, ran his hand down my hair in a comforting motion. If I was going to die, at least it would be in his arms.
I clung to him, hating that I shouldn’t, because what if I was poisoning him even now? What if I was getting the residue on his scales? But I didn’t want to die alone. I whimpered as heat started burning in my belly, my hands and feet feeling like they were on fire and there was nothing I could do to put them out.
The others were moving around us, like the stolen N’Akron were determined to keep our secret. Two took the body, another cleaned the area. Many were whispering and staring in our direction, so I hid my head in his chest. The pain was starting to get unbearable, and I didn’t want to think about anyone else.
Then someone tapped O’Rrin on the shoulder, causing him to snarl and me to look up. Except it was an older lady slave, her scales weathered in a way that was probably wrinkles. She kept speaking, even though I couldn’t understand her words. She kept gesturing at me, then herself, and hope started to bloom over O’Rrin’s face. Was he giving me to her? Was something happening?
“I can ease her way,” the woman said, her words clear now that she was closer to me. Strange how she was understandable when O’Rrin was not. “She may be losing her senses already.”
I blinked slowly, lazily, and rubbed a finger in my ear. The tingling was starting to dissipate instead of growing more intense, and it felt like I had been dipped in lava and pulled out instead of left in. Not that I could communicate that to O’Rrin, not with how I felt. No, he scooped me up and followed the older woman into one of the smaller buildings. It was dusty and dark, but there was a soft table he carefully laid me out on.
“It doesn’t hurt as much,” I said softly, the words feeling echoey but still understandable, from the way they looked at each other. Strange. Why wasn’t I dying? More questions than answers, as it always was.
“Her color should be gone,” the woman said, her fingers going to my throat. “I am to feel her heart, but I do not know where it is.”
I saw O’Rrin open his mouth, then close it with a puzzled expression. I fought a smile, because it was one of those things that had never come up. Why would he need to know where my heart is? “Are you looking for my pulse?” I asked.
The woman, who was apparently a healer, frowned. “You are not screaming?”
I blinked, surveying myself mentally. “No? Should I be?”
“She seems more immune to the poison than the N’Akron,” the woman murmured, looking fascinated. Her hand slid to my breasts, which was awkward but since she didn’t seem to grope me, I could deal. Her eyes closed, her breathing steady. “There is something inside her that fights.”
I swallowed thickly. “Like a parasite or something?” Did Yrrix infect me? Was it something other than the poison that had caused me to faint?
The woman’s hand slid lower to my belly, before she gave a satisfied nod and lifted her hand. “Your mate has a very strong will to live.”
The look O’Rrin gave me was positively melty. “She is a fierce one, my mate.” The pure, unadulterated love in his eyes made me all gooey inside.
The woman, however, chuckled. “That may be the case,” she said, her amber eyes flicking to O’Rrin, “but that is not the cause of her will to live. No, there is another life she is caring for.”
O’Rrin looked blank, but the pieces were starting to drop into place. Oh, God. Not that I was necessarily opposed to the idea of being pregnant with his baby, but talk about bad timing.
“Am I pregnant?” I asked in a whisper, not sure if the words would shatter the fragile peace in the air.
“Yes,” the woman said simply. “It is early yet, but there is young growing within you.”
O’Rrin’s eyes widened, but they turned the pure gold of pleasure. “She is with young? Truly?”
“Yes.” She didn’t look annoyed at repeating herself, but there was a sad sort of fondness in her eyes, like we reminded her of someone she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“What is your name, healer?” O’Rrin asked, quickly scooping me up in his arms and cradling me close to his chest.
The woman regarded him for a long time, then shook her head. “Who I am is not important,” she said in that same even, soft tone. “Take care of your mate. You will need to leave soon so the Caterri do not find you.”
“But—”
“Soon,” she said, cutting me off. Then she went out a different door, and I could tell O’Rrin was torn between running after her and cuddling me. Selfishly, I was glad he stayed with me. My whole world had just been rocked, which meant his had as well.
Pregnant. I had his baby inside me. I was going to be a momma a lot earlier than I thought I would be.
“How do you feel, my Hetta?” O’Rrin murmured, stroking a hand through my hair. “Have you recovered? Do you need me to get the healer woman?”
“I think I’m okay.” I snuggled closer into his chest, loving the way his arms were around me. I would stay like that forever if I could.
Then it hit me that I could, since I wanted to. He was mine if I wanted him. “I love you,” I told him, not entirely surprised when I simply got a blink in return.
“I feel many things for you,” O’Rrin said when it became clear I was looking for some sort of reply. I tried to keep my face from falling, to remind myself that we were from two different cultures and I couldn’t get everything I wanted, but I apparently sucked at it, because O’Rrin’s eyes narrowed, tinged red. “That displeases you?”
I tapped his chest, trying to keep my voice playful. “When a woman tells you she loves you, she wants to hear it back.”
He looked puzzled, like he genuinely didn’t get it. “Why do you require words? Do I not show you with my actions that I care?”
In a way, I understood where he was coming from. A man of action was better than someone full of empty words and emptier promises. But… “Sometimes a girl just likes to hear it, okay?”
The look he gave me was affectionate, like it was one of those weird human customs he was going to listen to, then write off. “I love you, my Hetta,” he murmured, his forked tongue licking across my cheek. “When we are out in the lands again, I will show you exactly how much.”
My heart skipped a beat, and my thighs clenched. I was getting ridiculously wet for in the middle of a town full of hostiles. “You’d better get me outside, then.”
His grin made my insides weak, and he was quickly on his feet and heading out into the maelstrom that was Kohta.
22
O’Rrin
“This is nice,” my Hetta said, her small hand held in my bigger one. While we were moving as quickly as we could, it was nowhere near the pace I could maintain on my own. Yet my Hetta was taken ill, unable to keep her breakfast down and instead spilling the travel rations all over the ground.
She had assured me it was normal, called it ‘morning sickness’, but I was skeptical of such a thing. While her wound was healing, and her energy up unless she was vomiting, I did not want her to push herself and risk herself or our baby. They mattered the world to me. No, they were more than the world. They were everything.
“What is nice?” I asked, trying to understand her human language. There was much slang I did not know, and I wanted to make an effort.
“Spending time with you.” She smiled at me, although she slowed and put a hand to her stomach, her face turning into the vomit-look. “One sec,” she managed.
A growl rumbled out of my throat, and I was helpless. I wanted to take care of my mate, but there wasn’t anything I could do. All I could do was stand by helplessly, because this was a battle I could not fight or win.
The protective part of me was not sure I wanted Hetta carrying my young if it would make her so sick, but the rest of me was thrilled at the knowledge. She would grow bigger, our youngling in her stomach, and eventually we would be a family in more than just name. That sent many feelings through my heart, because besides N’Ashtar, I had not really had a family in many, many years.
“We’re almost there, right?” Hetta asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I nodded. “We will rest in one of our caves tonight, and we will be there mid-afternoon tomorrow.”
“Unless I get sick.” Hetta wrinkled her nose at the thought.
I tapped her tiny, blunt human nose with the tip of my claw, affection thrumming through me. “I have allowed time for you to be sick, my sweet human mate.”
Hetta giggled, a smile lighting her face. “I’m not sure whether I’m embarrassed or pleased.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?” I gave her a puzzled look. It was a great honor in my tribe for her to carry my young, that a female had chosen me to mate with.
“I wish I was stronger,” she admitted, a hand going to her stomach. “I shouldn’t let morning sickness affect me so much.”
I frowned at her some more, not content with her words. “A N’Akron experiences fatigue and scale-shedding, and often requires more time in the sack when she is pregnant than—”
For whatever reason, that made my strange human mate burst into giggles, which she quickly followed up with an apology. “Sorry, sorry.”
I pulled her into my arms, wanting to feel the comfort of her small body against mine. “It is okay.” I had no idea what she was apologizing for, but I knew she did not need to be sorry.
“So N’Akron pregnancies tend to be pretty easy?” Hetta asked, looking appreciative as I started steering her to the cave we would stay in for the night. It was earlier than I had intended to stop, but it was clear my Hetta was getting tired, and I did not want to stress her or the baby. I also wanted to be inside the sack with her, to hold her close, to sink between her thighs in the way that best connected us. I wanted to be part of her and have her be part of me.
“There have not been many,” I admitted. The smallest youngling I could think of was eight cycles of age. “Those who are pregnant were often hidden away so no harm could come to them.”
That caught Hetta’s attention, and she frowned at me. “You’re not going to lock me in a box, are you?”
I blinked at her. “Why would I lock you in a box?”
Her exasperated huff seemed fond. “Not a literal box,” she said. “You are going to let me do stuff, right?” My lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. “Right?”
I still didn’t answer, so she jabbed one of her small human fingers at my scaled chest. “You will let me do things, so help me, or O’Rrin, you won’t get any until this baby is born.” Then she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me as I tried to parse her strange human words. She did not apparently need help, and there were apparently things she was not giving me.
“What will you not get me?” I asked, hoping to get at least a few answers.
Her cheeks turned scarlet. “God save me from aliens and their bad translators,” she muttered. Her fingers went to the device on her ear, the one that allowed us to communicate. “It’s nothing. Just…don’t try to protect me too much, okay? Please, please let me be me.” She squeezed my hand and then went back to walking next to me like nothing had happened, but I could not stop thinking about it.
My mind wandered as we walked, passing by increasing clumps of the tall grasses the dohli liked to munch on. Soon, I saw tracks in the dirt, some recent. I’d be able to set a trap and catch one for food, but getting Hetta safe and warm was my top priority. Next to a small hill, I saw traces of N’Akron, old but still there, and followed them until we found a cave that had clearly been used as a way point in the past. I hated to set up where others had, but night would fall and Hetta was beginning to shiver enough that I could hear her teeth as they chattered. We set up camp in the small cave and lit a fire to help keep her warm. She was an independent one, my Hetta, and I did not think she would appreciate the coddling often used with our females. From even the tone of her words, she was threatening that she would be angry, and that was the last thing I wanted.
