CHAPTER 9

 

Thick, warm hands roughly kneaded my breasts, then gentled, strumming over my taut nipples until I moaned aloud. It felt good, really good.

A hot, wet tongue rasped my collarbone before dipping lower, and I groaned. Oh yeah.

Moaning, I bit at my lip as teeth nipped. My sex was wet, slippery wet, more than I’d ever recalled. My stomach chose that moment to growl at me angrily, reminding me that I should have eaten the stew he’d tried to wake me up with, trying to offer me a piping hot bowl at some ungodly hour.

Arching my back, my ass pressed firmly into the underside of a very impressive erection. A very furry erection, and that’s when I squealed and jumped awake.

Tokre caught me before I fell out of bed, tugging me tightly to his chest, too tight, until I wheezed out a desperate breath.

Spotting the jar for the tingling salve the male used as hoo-hah healing sauce next to him, figuring he must’ve thought to apply it while I’d slept—as if to thwart me on it—and maybe ended up getting more than he’d bargained for.

Letting out a gruff noise, he let go when I cried out, frowning down at me as I groaned and rolled over.

“Oh,” I mumbled, ass up, face mashed into a fur, “everything hurts.”

Grunting, Tokre reached out and poked at something along my thigh that had me jerking and yelping.

Blinking as I tried to get a look over my shoulder, my head popping up to see, I gaped as his fingers traced a myriad of purple bruises and gouges from his claws, mapping across my body. “Oh my god! I look like a giant, punctured eggplant!”

Tokre went to poke another bruise again, scowling at it as his fingers tried to smooth it off, as if it was merely dirt, but I slapped his fingers away.

“Ow! Quit it. That hurts,” I couldn’t help but whine. Scowling equally as hard at my new beast mate, I tugged a bed fur over my body, trying to hide the worst of it.

Eyes scanning me from head to toe, Tokre’s gaze paused on my rump, glued to it.

“Ugh, men.” Flattening my knees until my ass was pancaked instead of up in the air, just hanging there, I rolled my eyes and went to ignore him but ended up fighting him when he suddenly went to tug my fur back off. “Hey, what the- Tokre!”

Eyes narrowed, he ignored me, whipping the fur off to pin me down and lean over me. I couldn’t exactly see what he was doing, thinking sex the likely want of the morning, but it became apparent enough as his hand smoothed over a particularly large bruise and, frowning, noting the similarities, he switched hands, matching the pattern to his meaty paw. A harsh sound in his throat, his hand froze and he just stared at it.

Watching him, I frowned. “Tokre?”

Tokre jerked his hand back as if he’d just been burned and hopped up off the bed. Tossing the fur back over me as I flopped to my back to face him, he bent down, looming over me, bumping our foreheads and rubbing our noses.

Mouthing the word mine, he mashed our lips together in a quick, possessive but messy kiss and pulled back.

“Tokre…?”

Much gentler than he’d ever been before, he tapped my chest several times, motioning that I should stay in bed, then pointed towards last night’s mystery stew in that little boxy shaped, thickly woven basket filled with ice he’d put it in and plunked on the fish gutting counter, then went to snatch up his fish basket and pole.

Quickly setting his things aside, he walked back towards me, as if he’d forgotten something pertinent. At the bed he crouched, grabbing something up from under it. Scooting it out, he motioned towards himself.

“Tokre?” I was a broken record, as well as beyond confused.

The beast pointed to the crude looking pot and then me, letting off short grunts as his gaze went back and forth between the thing and me. It was medium sized, with a wide lip that almost reminded of a- “This is a piss pot,” I mumbled aloud, catching his drift.

Leaning over the side of the bed to examine the thing to find it empty, my gaze slid up to meet his.

“Don’t you think this would have been helpful last night? You know,” I made a point to make the gushing sounds from last night, mimicking losing my junk, “with all of this?”

Continuing the gush-gush-ing sound effects, I pointed to the pot.

I watched as it came over him, the realization that his new mate had simply been trying to find a restroom to relieve herself with her disturbing, half-assed theatrics, both times—lord help me—and I could have sworn a faint blush stole over his cheeks.

Tokre did the gaze shift and point, and waited, more funny grunts issuing from his throat.

Oh, I caught on to that one fast, alright, but that wasn’t going to go down in front of him.

Tokre leaned in when my lips started to purse, a soft snarl tumbling from his lips, and then my eyes were widening and I was gaping at him.

“I will when you leave,” I squeaked out stubbornly, despite the way the hairs along my arms prickled alarmingly at his tone—forget being able to understand the beastie, because some things were just universal.

Motioning towards his pot and waving it away, despite the way I was starting to tremble, I wanted to be heard too.

Yet… He was just so intimidating when he did the loom, lip curl, and snarl. If he wanted me to… to… go in front of him, he’d just have to keep that mess up.

Couldn’t guarantee I’d make it to his pee pot, but I’d definitely go, that was for sure.

He did it again, his unhappy snarl, growl, and glare balefully, and I flinched, swallowing hard.

Something akin to shame and a bit of defeat washing over me, I ducked my head. The tigerlady who’d peeked out last night notably absent, I was back to wimpy old me.

As a low growl filled his throat, his warm breath fanning across the top of my head, I gulped but slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. My cheeks flushed crimson as my shoulders slumped, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Frowning at the floor like it owed me money and I wanted it gone, I couldn’t, wouldn’t look at him. “This is humiliating,” I mumbled, but went to do as he wished.

Walking over to the pot, I stared down at it, scrubbing a hand down my face.

Daring a peek at the beast standing there by the bed impatiently, waiting, I muttered weakly, “You have to turn around. I can’t- I’m not-” A sound of frustration growled out of my throat and my voice rose. “I’m not doing this with an audience!”

My beast-napper blinked, staring down at me with the wariest expression I’d ever seen on the creature. Slowly, he jerked his chin towards the pot, but I’d already gotten the picture. Now, if only I could get him to understand what I wanted, I thought churlishly.

“Turn around,” I said slowly, pointing at him and making a twirling motion.

With a grunt he did, though grudgingly, and I let out a sigh of relief. You know, until he turned his head, scowling, and started to peek at me from over his shoulder.

“Holy alien dung beetles, bud! I can’t escape through the floor, there’s no window near me or a hidden crawlspace, and I’m obviously not going anywhere, the door is that-a-way, hun!” My arm thrust up and out in its direction. “Now, if you could just, please, let me relieve myself for your benevolent benefit, you overbearing jerk of a mutant fuzzball, I will piss in your pot in peace!!”

Tokre stiffened, watching my hands flail around alarmingly while I ranted, and he started clearing his throat gruffly, repeatedly. Shoulders stiffening to hunch, a mumbled grumble rumbling his chest, his brow furrowing in confusion to morph into a scowl, then a frown again, he seemed, despite being the liquid release demander in this scenario, uncomfortable.

Hah!

Good. Feel some of this, I thought, mentally gesturing at the length of my person.

“Peeking,” I motioned at what he was doing, marching over to him, his back still turned to me, “is wrong! Bad. Not nice! You understand me, big fella, huh? Huh?! Baaaaaaddddd.”

“Bbbbbdddd,” the beast rumbled out slowly, staring down at me with a stupid look.

“I pee, you don’t watch, everybody’s happy,” I told him.

He bristled at the look on my face and my angry demeanor, but didn’t bite.

Eyeing him and then the bed as he continued to unashamedly peek, as if the walking, wannabe bleached Wookiee thought I wouldn’t notice or something, I shook my head and threw my hands out. “Of all the… I cannot…”

Walking over to the bed, I picked up one of the fur blankets, marching right over to him and right around him to hold it out.

“Put this on your head, Peeky McPeekerson.” Lips thinning, I motioned exactly what I wanted him to do and how I thought he should just go right on ahead and do it, everything in me tightening up when he started to snarl.

At the look on my face his growl cut off, his gaze slowly darting heavenward. That weird, mumbling grumble-growl started up, muffled by his clamped lips, and I could have sworn he rolled his eyes before reluctantly taking the pelt and, with great gesturing and encouragement from me, slipped the material over his head.

Happy at his acquiescence, I slapped my hands together in a clap. Tokre jumped and snarled, then dropped down into a crouch. With a menacing growl in his throat that had my skin prickling he lifted the blanket to glare about the room.

I clapped again, because I’m either an idiot or super smart, relieved when he relaxed, though he looked thoroughly vexed now, more than a bit annoyed.

When I motioned for him to drop the blanket again he did, mumble-snarling under his breath.

I smiled at that, despite my own annoyance. It was kind of- Nope, not even going to think it, I told myself.

Stepping back to move around him, I admired my handiwork, adjusting the pelt’s ends so it was evenly distributed. A long sigh issued from the pelt, followed by much grumbling, and those wide, beast shoulders twitched and fidgeted before slumping.

Holy guac and chips, I thought, a wild giggle creeping up my throat, did I just win?!

Hmmm. Glancing down at the pot I was to use to, for lack of better phrase, piss in, my eyes slid to the door and I bit the inside of my cheek. I could technically try and make a run for it... but where would I go? I had no clue how I’d even gotten this far in the first place, let alone that stupid first hut. How would I get back, and without the elements taking me first, if I wasn’t caught within seconds of escaping? One glance down at my naked body and my shoulders slumped harder than Tokre’s. I couldn’t, not yet, and I knew it. Bide your time, Rosie. Bide your time.

“Pot pissing to appease the furred monster mate, it is.” Walking back to the pot, I glared down at it. “Where were you yesterday, asshole?” I grumbled down at it, but bent down, shaking my head the whole while, and went to do my business.

It was hard enough being a strictly indoors gal taking her first stab at this, worse yet to have someone standing there waiting expectantly for you to do it, blanket over his head and his back turned or not. So, like anyone I imaged might do in my situation, desperate to drown out the live rain dance I was performing, I sang.

My voice warbled out a garbled version of The Dead Kennedys’ “Holiday in Cambodia” at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t even mad, or really all that surprised, when Tokre scooted, blanket still over his head, to the bed, dropping to his knees to scrounge something up from a small basket beneath the foot of the bed.

A grumbling snarl in his throat more than half the time and his back still to me, he shifted towards me, then lifted his hands and wiggled a thick stack of leaves at me from behind his back.

I almost laughed aloud at that, wondering if his grumblings were the beastie version of cuss words. Almost. But this was all just too fucking weird to be believed. I was possibly being thoroughly bitched out and I couldn’t have cared less.

Maybe I’ll laugh later, I thought, when I’d finished, washed my hands, and went to slide the blanket off his head, my business tended to.

Chucking the pelt back on the bed to motion me onto it, Tokre pointed at me and grunted, garbling words out in a growling rumble, bending down and leaning in.

Nostrils flaring, his ears wiggling on the sides of his head, he pointed to my chest before he pressed a hand to his, spreading his fingers out slowly across the middle of his impressive pecs. I didn’t know what it meant, but he stood there and waited until I did it back.

An odd, haunted look on his face as he pulled back and his eyes coasted over my thighs, with one last hand waving filled instruction for me to stay in bed or else, he rushed off, grabbing up his things and leaving me staring after him.

“Well, now that was just...” I mumbled confusedly, my eyes sliding to the piss pot in the corner, “super weird.”

 

˜˙˜*˜˙˜

 

Flopping back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling, frowning. Does he mean for me stay in bed and that’s it? Or stay in the hut? Assuming he meant bed, I stayed put, twiddling my thumbs as my eyes strayed to the window.

Time passed and I finished the cold stew in his nifty beastie ice box. It tasted even better with a bit of a chill on it, but I was kinda weird like that. I felt the same way about leftover pizza.

Afterwards I dutifully crawled back in bed, wiggling around until I was snug as a bug. More time passed and I found myself lost to my thoughts, trying to figure out my next move, a million scenarios playing out in my head.

Once I’d worked myself up, I decided anymore of that might make my brain explode, forcing all of it to the side.

Humming, trying to mimic Tokre’s lullaby, I counted tiles, cracks in the walls, played with my hair, stroked the fur pelts loaded up on the bed, examining each and every one, drank half a pitcher of the water he’d left for me on the table, just to see if I could, you know, bored people stuff.

It wasn’t long before I assumed more than half the day had gone by, and nature made to call on me and naturally, before I knew it I really had to go.

Glancing around the room, I didn’t know where, exactly, to… go. That pot wasn’t exactly massive, and those leaves I’d dumped in there that first go ‘round had kind of filled it up pretty quick there. Nope. Don’t feel like having to clean up my own urine off the floor if that sucker overflows. Gotta nix that one. Next!

Back at the huts in beastly daycare they’d had a decent sized pot everyone had to take turns using, shielding each other with our bodies like human bathroom stalls but... the pot was pretty damned full and he didn’t appear fond of the idea of me traipsing around outside by my lonesome. And if he reacted in the same sudden, panicked, semi-howling manner as those last two times, clutching to me like a madman afterwards, yeah, I didn’t wish to relive that again.

The fear of the unknown rode me harder than anything else, though. Sitting up, wrapping a fur around my shoulders, I slipped from the bed.

Groaning, I found myself wincing with every step. “Yep,” I muttered, then scoffed. “That’s definitely going to leave a mark.” Lots and lots of marks.

Hobbling over to the fish beheading station, I glanced up, eyeing the odd assortment of clay pots laid out along the shelves lining the top.

“Decisions. Decisions.” One more pee pot for Rosie, coming up.

Tapping my lip with my finger, I decided on the smallest pot, figuring he’d be the least upset when he found out I’d piddled in it. Here’s to hoping there’s no sentimental attachment of any sort to this one, I thought, eyeing the thick handle.

A heavy knock sounded at the door and I glanced over, then to the pot, just out of my reach, before finally peeking down at myself. Snorting at my nude state, glancing towards the door again, I shook my head. Let them, whoever it was, think we’re not home. They’ll go away. And back to the pee pot. Standing on tip-toe, my fingers crazed the lip of the pot. Almost… almost there.

No dice. Grunting, I sighed but kept up.

“Oh, come on.” Tongue peeking out as I let my grip on the fur around my shoulders go, ignoring it as it fluttered to my feet, I pressed my palm along the counter to steady myself better.

A knock sounded again but I grunted, growing frustrated. What would they do, I wondered, if I told them to get lost? Or just answered the door like this—a snarling crazy lady? But, no, where is Tokre to protect me if they were to get mad? Or… I gulped. Something worse. Eyes straying to the door and then the window, I hoped he hurried back.

And that look on his face, what was that about? No, I’m not going to worry about that.

Because I don’t care, I reminded myself. I don’t. He’s a possibly semi cannibalistic creature that kidnaps women to mate or eat. They’re beasts bent on taking, enslaving the human race. Had to remember that.

Maybe I shouldn’t be this calm about it all—not that my sudden spurts of freakout took away from that or anything, ahem—but I’d been watching just such movies my entire life. I’ve read the books, done my homework, in a way—haven’t I, to some extent, been preparing for something just like this? Well, no, but I could lie to myself until my head swelled to the size of a honeydew at the ‘knowledge’ that was how it’d always been intended. Yes, I totally could.

And, oh yeah, I really, really had to pee! A fact that needed absolutely no reminding whatsoever as my bladder protested the lengthy wait.

Fingers about to grasp the end of the short handle on the small pot, that stupid, incessant knock clambering at the door, I smiled triumphantly right as I tipped it and it tumbled into my hand. The door chose that moment to thud heavily, the sound akin to a battering ram slamming against it, and swing open.

A beast that most certainly was not my mate stormed inside.

Gasping, I dumped the pot in my hands, scrambling for the fur I’d trampled beneath my feet and was currently standing on, the fluffy fur soft and warm. Fingers curling around one end, I tugged and tugged, to no avail.

Mortified, too dumbstruck to realize I needed to move off of the blasted thing to not only pick it up but get it around me, the green-eyed beast staring me down, observing me intently in all of my naked, horror-struck, pink-cheeked, bruised-up glory, storming into the room.

“Female,” Rek, the beast who’d taunted me from before, rumbled angrily. He was pissed. Pissed at me? What the hell did I ever do to him?!

Scampering back, I scooped up the pot and the fur, clutching them both to my chest as he slowly and methodically backed me into a wall.

My back finally hit that wall and I squeaked, stifling the squeal jammed in my windpipe.

He was kinda like a dog, right? Don’t anger it or act aggressive, back away slowly, don’t make direct eye contact, act like a fucking tree.

Taking in my reaction, something in the feral look on his face softened, but not enough to give me any kind of ease. If anything, I tightened up more.

“Female.” Voice dipping low, Rek’s tone took on a crooning quality, but it didn’t have anywhere near the same effect Tokre’s did.

My captive, my lover, it could be the title of the monster romance book based off Tokre I’ll never write, I thought hysterically. I want to stick with the one that’s kidnapped me, bruised me up, and decimated my maidenhead!

It was some kind of fucked up, sure, but nothing like the squiggy feelings I got hanging around this Rek beast. Someone was only looking out for number one, and that one wasn’t me.

Isn’t that what I’ve been doing, I questioned. Well, I grudgingly admitted, guess we had that one thing in common.

“You mate bad, female. Tokre hurt mate?” Reaching out, bending enough to reach my knee, his fingers brushed it, gliding upward.

Rough, heavily calloused fingertips sliding along my thigh, he shifted the pelt in my arms covering my nudity, to expose a few of my bruises.

I couldn’t explain what came over me as I gaped at him, aghast, and stiffened. It wasn’t like that. He didn’t understand. He was assuming the worst.

That asshole didn’t know anything!

Jerking out of his hold, my lips twisted and I scowled. Mustering up as much bitch as I could, hoping he bought it, I informed him coldly, “I’m Tokre’s mate. It was an accident. We got… uhm, rough.”

I shrugged like it didn’t matter, more wrung out trying not to shake in my boots under Rek’s too serious, menacing gaze than the accusation he was thrusting on my mate.

A strange sense of possessiveness overwhelmed me. I’d picked this one, because I chose. Even after all the shit Tokre’d pulled, he was still the better choice. There was some consideration for me in there, somewhere. Well, now there was, I corrected, still eyeing Rek huffily.

Rek was giving me the stink eye, as if I might break and admit all of Tokre’s supposed sins under that sharp, shrewd stare.

“He’d never hurt me.” Not on purpose, I was beginning to gather. And that was the truth. I knew, from both of our fumbling attempts and obvious ineptitude at bedroom acrobatics—not to mention the brevity of our bungled interlude, then his reaction to me just leaving to take a leak, and that look on his face as he hurried out to leave this morning—that beastie was feeling as all over the place and wrecked, fucked in the head the hell up, as I was. He was hooked, and didn’t know the first thing to do about it.

Well, that just made two of us all messed up from the neck up, honey.

I wasn’t the only one to lose their virginity last night, I surmised—something I hadn’t exactly taken into consideration at all until later reflection, but it explained an awful lot. Maybe this could play in my favor? You don’t eat your first, uh, love, right? Not literally...?

Chime in here any time now to reassure me, brain.

Making to grab at me again, Rek’s huge hands coming towards me, I slapped them away, cringing inwardly as the angry looking beastie growled. I froze, locking up, standing there stupidly, stiff as a board, my breathing growing choppy as my brain blanked out. Scream, my mind reeled, shouting instructions I couldn’t seem to obey.

Rek’s hand slid to my elbow and he would have gripped it, his other hand clamping down on my hip. It was all I needed to pop out of my petrified state.

“Don’t touch me!” My voice came out much higher than I’d intended, my hands trembling as my pulse throbbed in my ears. It wasn’t a scream but it was something. I didn’t know what would give out, explode first, my heart or my head.

Again, I twisted away, sliding farther away from him along the wall. “I’m not yours to touch.”

Rek’s face tightened but he pulled back. His fingers curled into tightly balled fists as he dropped them to his sides and took a single step back. “Tokre not warrior. Tokre broken. Tokre bad mate. Rek warrior. Rek good mate.”

Broken record, alien creep, shout me another song, will ya.

“Well, Tokre is my mate. I chose him, and I’m keeping him.” And that, asshole, was that. Ugh, I didn’t know what it was about the beast before me, but I disliked him on sight. He had dick written all over him.

Making as if to sweep past the beastly, erm, beast, his arm shot out and he snarled, blocking my path. He’d have clotheslined my ass if I hadn’t stopped fast enough.

“Female more mates.” His chin dipped and he tilted his head questioningly. “Rek make good mate. Female take Rek. Rek first mate.”

Ah… well... wow. Now there was something you didn’t hear every day. “I’m sorry? I don’t think I quite heard you. For a second there, I thought you just suggested that I should take you on as a-a-a…” I couldn’t even say it out loud.

Yeah. Another one? NO.

“First mate,” he snapped impatiently, shifting from one giant, hairy Hobbit foot to the other gnarly one, hovering over my much shorter frame. Intimidation, the male lived by it.

Large and wants to be in charge, he was big, clunky bodied, and bossy. Dominant, snarling, flat out intimidating, and impatient, he screamed overbearing, controlling asshole, the exact opposite of anything I’d ever want in an anything, if one had to pick. His snarl was just plain menacing, forget intimidating.

At least I felt I had some choice, some semblance of a backbone with Tokre.

Tokre, for all his grumbling, growling mumblings and shortcomings, was more animalistic in an untamed kind of sense… I couldn’t explain it. Softly feral? I just felt it, sensed it. He didn’t know how to be any other way. He was wild, but in a lost, grasping sort of way.

I had the distinct impression the beastie was trying to be careful with me, learning as he went, or at least now he was, but simply didn’t know how. The nose nuzzling, the cooing, the way he clutches me to him so tight, even in sleep, almost fearful if he lets go he’ll lose me, the way his heart pounds in his chest, the way he stares at me… When he has that look on his face sometimes, that little boy, worried, confused, terrified, haunted light in his eyes, like he’s afraid he’s going to do something wrong—the male just has this... he almost... he just seems so damned lost and searching.

“What am I saying?” I mumbled to myself, burying my face in my hands, shaking my head.

Barely been here, what? Twenty four hours, maybe more? A day, going on two, roughly, and I’m waxing on about how I know my captor turned mate’s furry butt? Like we’re suddenly connected somehow? Like I’m the fur whisperer or some shit? Pfft.

And then, “Can Stockholm syndrome take hold that fast?” I wondered aloud.

Lips pursing, brow furrowing, I huffed. No, there had to be another explanation. Had to be. It’s more than just the bear rescue, more than buying into some silly looks and thumping heartbeats.

Maybe it naturally beats that fast? Maybe he can’t stand to see people cry, anyway? Why should that affect anything? How is any of that a determiner of anything? He kidnapped me, for Christ’s sake! Kidnapped! You don’t feel for a potential meal if you crave human flesh. That would make absolutely no sense!

“Maybe it’s in the water? I did drink and eat… But I didn’t feel drugged. Hmmm.”

Lifting my arm, I sniffed my pit, wondering if I’d somehow sweat it out and smell differently as my body tried to rid itself of whatever magical punch or poison I’d unknowingly chugged.

Mind manipulation through subliminal messages while I’m sleeping? The humming! It could be! It could!

Head shooting up, my expression lit up. “I’m not going crazy! I’m not falling into anything! I’m just being manipulated!”

My finger shot up as my face lit up. I was one giant ah-hah moment, complete with lightbulb bursting to life above my noggin.

But then my expression fell, and my finger tapped my chin. “Wait… how is that any better? Shoot.”

Present company blinked at me strangely, his thick monster lips falling open until he was openly gaping down at me as he tried to form responses to my rambling chatter. It was then I finally realized he was still there, having forgotten him completely for a moment there, lost to my ramblings.

Reeling back when he leaned in closer, bending his tall frame lower to sniff at me, I let off a small whimper.

“Female,” he grumbled, when he felt I hadn’t responded fast enough, and then I realized he’d asked a question and was expecting an answer.

Oh. Right. The mate thing. “No,” I blurted, cringing away from him.

“No?” he barked out, incredulous, stiffening.

“No,” I said louder.

A snarl ripped from his throat, making me jump, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Rek made Tokre look pitiful, puppy dog-like, when compared side by side.

Rek treated him much like a dog, too, the cur, I thought churlishly.

No, I don’t care, I insisted. I sooo super duper don’t.

“Rek first mate,” he demanded.

I’d rather die before I let that happen. From the look on Rek’s face, one might assume he had the same idea.

“No?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, losing steam as my knees wobbled, but I still managed to get the word out.

Hunching in on myself, I was the tiger-fly, ready for something to come along and swat me—a Rek-sized swatter?—strong enough to say no, even if it sounded wimpy and pathetic to my ears—not quite strong enough to be a full blown tigress. I’d still said it, though, I reminded myself, tiny as my voice warbled out. That counted for something. Erm, didn’t it?

Tensing up, body taut as he glared down at me, his chest heaved, almost brushing the tip of my nose as he stood up to his full height, towering over me, and puffed his chest up.

Turning my cheek, pressing it into the wall, I squeezed my eyes shut, my body mashed up against the wall so tight it hurt.

Fear rushed through me, sweat plastering my brow, and I swallowed hard. “I don’t want you. I won’t be your mate. I don’t… I don’t… I want you to leave.”

The beast stilled, his body inches from mine, and pulled back. “No fear. Rek not Tokre.”

This male before me most definitely wasn’t.

Peeking an eyelid open, I slid him a glance, daring to mumble through trembling lips, “I want Tokre.”

This was the wrong thing to say. Reaching out, Rek yanked my fur.

“No!” Gripping it tight, a small tug of war ensued, Rek winning by default, one harsh yank sending me skidding across the room.

Tumbling towards the hearth, tiny pot still in hand, I gasped, stifling a cry. I rolled, landing hard, skinning my backside as I slid clean across the space. Curling in, tucking my legs up as a hand shot out, trying to cover my nudity, my face flamed as I huddled into a tight ball. My body ached anew and I let out a deep breath, cringing as Rek stormed over.

Full upper lip curling up in an ugly snarl, he reached out, caressing my thigh, pressing a thick finger into a giant handprint-sized bruise dotting my tender skin. I cried out as he pressed harder, but he didn’t relent.

“Tokre broken. Not know how be good mate. Female no Tokre mate. Rek protect. Female no fear. Rek fix. Female no hurt.”

I was shaking so hard my spine felt brittle, my joints aching, like I might snap apart into piece if I moved too fast. “What… what are you going to do to me?” As his eyes lit up, I shuddered. “I mean, what are you planning to do with me?” Ew.

That glowing green shimmer dimmed a bit. “Take.” Grunting, he jerked his chin towards the open door. “Fix. Female take Rek. Rek good mate.”

“You want to take me… and fix me?” Righteous indignation was foremost on my mind, clawing its way forward as his words sunk in. If I was a more robust, lively gal, I imagine I would have demanded he take that comment and go shove it up his hairy butthole, but I didn’t. What came out, instead, was a lot more PG and not nearly as cool. “Ex-c-c-c-use me?”

“Female thank Rek later. We go now.” Rek crouched, his massive frame putting me at eyelevel with a thick, furry rod, extending a blunt-tipped fingered hand.

I’d leave this hut with his over confident butt over my dead body!

“Thank you? I’ll thank you! I have a suggestion for you, Mr. Rek of the jerkholes warrior caste. Can your fur-dong touch your exit only? Yes? Good! Go screw yourself!!” I was screeching, the words exploding from me. If they didn’t I’d probably have imploded and collapsed within. It was one way or the other, no in-between. “Thank you? Hah! I wouldn’t thank you, if you were the last male on this… this… wherever the heck I am!”

Confused as shit, Rek grunted. “Exit only? Fur-dong?” Reaching out, gripping my head, locking it into his furry pit, ignoring my struggles as I panicked, scream-screeching, he started prodding my scalp.

“What are you doing?!” I shrieked. “Help! Help! Release me! Tokre! Tokre!”

“Still, female. Rek check. Female injured. Hit head, yes? Tokre hit female head, too? Female damaged?” He was starting up one of those strange, cooing hums, directing it at me, and I’d had enough.

“Damaged? You think I hit my head! Ooooh, boy. I know you did not just call me damaged!” I bellowed the words out, punching and slapping anywhere I could reach. “Does this look damaged to you, huh?” Punch. Smack. Slap. “Huh? And how about some of this! You prick! And this!” More punches and slaps.

Grunting, Rek captured my wrists, sighing heavily.

“Answer me!!” I demanded, legs flailing about, furious.

“Yes,” his deep voice rumbled, without an ounce of hesitation.

“Oooo-Aaaaaaahhhh!”

Anger filled me. He just wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t leave me alone. He doesn’t get it. I don’t need his help. I’m no more broken or damaged than Tokre, the fucking prick. He thinks I’m broken now too, does he? I don’t need him to ‘save’ me. Unless he was going to save my butt by taking my ass back home! The nerve of him!

Rek’s rescue wasn’t something I wanted or needed.

Life here with Rek flashed before my eyes, a glimpse of never ending bull crap with Mr. Bossy Pants at the helm. Nope. A thousand times, nope.

Tokre’s willingness to leave me all by my lonesome for extended periods of time, it hinted at a blossom of trust. And time for me to plot, honestly. This guy over here? Probably wouldn’t let me breathe without his permission. No. And he’s a step worse than that Zoobie beast. Broodmare, alien slave that needs permission to pee? No, thank you. I’ll take bumbling and half distracted, regretful afterward, semi grumbling but complying anyway, which had the potential to work any swaying capabilities I might latently possess, for two hundred, Alex.

A noise from outside startled us both, and Rek’s shaggy head shot up, his grip loosening enough to allow me wiggle room.

Dropping down, Rek following with, my fingers curling around the pot on the floor, lost in the melee, to scoop it up, I glanced from him to the door. Lips thinning, I aimed high, pulling my arm back to swing, smacking him right in the middle of his fat head. The pan thunked heavily, crumbling right before my eyes as Rek let out a shocked chuff of air, releasing his tenuous hold on me.

Toppling to his side but catching himself, Rek groaned and grunted, but otherwise lacked any real, true kind of bashed over the noggin reaction.

Really? All that and he’s not even going to puke? Pass out? Wibble-wobble dizzily?

Shaking his shaggy head out, mumbling something in some sort of growling, grunting like language, his gaze slowly dipped, eyes narrowing to tiny little slits, until he was glaring down at me balefully.

Cowering under that menacing stare, I laughed nervously.

Popping up and scuttling back until my spine knocked a bedpost, I threw my hands up defensively. “Heh. Heh. Uhm… just kidding?”

“Broken,” Rek rumbled out, growling low, and crouched.

“Please don’t kill me,” I whispered fearfully.

Huge mitts for hands reached for me, gripping my shoulders, and I panicked, instantly going limp, shaking like a leaf in his strong hold.

Gaining his feet, grip firm as he brought me up with him, Rek frowned as my eyes welled.

“Fix you,” he muttered, shaking himself out, and lifted me up like I was nothing to chuck me over his shoulder.

As if a switch had been flipped, I snapped out of it, then snapped completely, screaming my head off, draped over his furry shoulder, naked as the day I was born, my ass and all the goods out on full display like some snow beast fashion accessory.

Striding from the room and right out the door, upsetting a stack of baskets along the side of the hut, Rek jostled me as he walked. “Silence,” he ordered, his chest vibrating on a purr.

Choking on my own spit, eyes buggy, gripping his furred back tight, ripping out handfuls, I grew louder. This was the nightmare of nightmares for me, and it was happening. NO!

His shoulder pressing into my stomach, digging into my poor guts, had a certain need growing even more urgent at all the bumping and jargling. My screams turned into squealing screeches.

A loud smack rent the air as his hand cracked down on my bare rump, hard enough to burn horribly, and I howled, jerking and crying out.

Rek rumbled something as I ripped out two more thick fistfuls of snow beast back hair, his hand cracking down again, and then I totally and completely, utterly lost it, literally.

Without going into specifics, Rek let out a shocked cry of his own, sputtering in stupefied shock, stumbling to a stop. Pushing off his chest, lifting my weight up by my arms, I swung my lower half over the side of his soiled shoulder like I was trying out for the Olympics.

Landing not quite so gracefully, I stumbled in the dirt, knocking to my knees.

Without bothering to look back, I picked myself up and took off, bare ass jiggling and barely there tits swaying in the sharp, early evening, late afternoon breeze as I hightailed it down the path.

Rek bellowed behind me, shouting out for the female to come back. This female right here wouldn’t be coming within half a mile of his stanky hide if I could help it.

Rushing straight past Tokre’s hut, I hoped I was heading in the right direction, crying out my mate’s name.

A pole, a basket, his fish gutting counter—it wasn’t all that hard to figure out. Tokre wasn’t a warrior by trade, he was a fisherman.

Surely he didn’t go too far from the hut? I had to pray this was so. I gotta be right. Just gotta be. Keeping my eyes peeled, ears pricking, hoping for any signs confirming my theory, ignoring the frozen ground stinging my feet, I had to find him.

Rek’s heavy, stomping tread pounding off behind me, deep, snarling growl echoing in the distance, Rek was in hot pursuit.

It won’t be long and he’ll catch me. I don’t have any time!

“Heeeeeeelllllppppp!”

Breath hitching, I dared a look over my shoulder, glancing about quickly. Several rows of huts back, chest soaked, a busted woven basket trapping his foot, Rek wasn’t having an easy time keeping up.

Other beasts having trailed outside, peered around wonderingly, curious at all the commotion.

Garbling a growl, Rek shook his foot out and toppled into a hut, grunting as a chunk of the side of the hut crumbled beside him.

“Help! He took me from my mate! My Tokre! He stole me! Thief! Thief! Mate thief!”

“Female!” Rek bellowed, his pale skin flushing as he flung his wet arms out. “Come! Back!”

Chuh, how about this side of never! That work for ya? “It’s never going to happen. We’re never going to happen! I don’t want you! Help! Help!”

I’d burn that Rek-Rosie bridge—melt it, burn it, stomp that pile of ash into the ground, and I planned on keeping it that way. This whole Rek thing was being nipped right in the bud—today, right now—never to be re-opened again—ever.

And to further my agenda. “Help! Help! Keep him back! He’s dangerous! Violent rage monster on the loose! Get help! Tell everyone! He took me from my home! Stole me from my mate! He’s crazy!”

Now that I thought on it…

“He threatened me with warrior, uhm, stuff! Said he’s going to fix me! Fix me, erm, good! I think he meant kill me, gut me and leave all this precious human meat to waste! Have you seen me? Me?! I could feed a family of three!!”

“Feeeeemale!!” Rek roared, tossing his leg about furiously.

Too late, I may have taken things a smidge too far. Whirling around, I almost took out a familiar, blue and white tufted beast, walloping him in the chest. “Wha- Oomph!” Or, he almost took me out, I should say.

Tumbling backwards, I slammed back on my ass, flopping off to the side into a rather sizeable clump of snow, biting the tip of my tongue in the process.

“EEEE!” Shrieking, goosed by a snow pile/muddy puddle, I popped up as if I’d been zapped, squealing and hopping about.

The group of males off to the side of Zhuii, a small stand with woven baskets full of items being bartered about, turned to study us interestedly, sharing curious looks.

Wrapping my arms around my chest, my numb and possibly frost bitten toes curling in the wet, soggy, snow sprinkled ground, I shivered, my teeth instantly chattering.

“Rosie-lindy?” The beast blinked, then blinked again, his ears flattening to the sides of his head, flush, as his brow shot up.

“Umph. Oh, Zoobie!” I cried out. “Am I glad to see you! I need your help!”

“Zhuii,” the instantly agitated male grumbled, suddenly frowning mightily.

“Right. Zhuii. Lovely name,” I mumbled, talking fast, gaze darting about. “Listen, have you seen Tokre?”

“You mate?” the orange-eyed beast questioned.

“Yes, my mate. Tokre.” Gripping his arm, ignoring how good his body heat felt against my icy fingers, smiling encouragingly, I nodded vigorously. “Listen, I need to find him. I-”

“Tokre leave Rosie?” Zhuii was aghast at the idea. Considering what Rek had just tried to pull, I was kind feeling that way, too. “Tokre-”

“Mine! No touch! My female!” came a malevolent roar.

“Eep! It’s too late!” Hopping in place, I squeaked. “He caught up!”

“Who catch up?” Zhuii grumbled, eyes narrowing as they squinted towards Rek’s lumbering form in the distance, the noises the angry male was making alerting me to just how quickly he was drawing near.

“Tokre, Zhuii!” I whisper-hissed. “Where is he?!”

Grunting, Zhuii blinked his vivid, wild, bright orange eyes. “Where Tokre always?” Lifting a thick finger, massive, wide shoulders kicking up in a half-shrug, he pointed. “Water.”

“Oh, I could kiss you!” Turning to run, I realized what I’d just blurted and spun back around. “That wasn’t an invitation, it’s a turn of phrase, so don’t get any ideas and- Wait! One more thing!”

A million emotions slid across the beast’s face as I spoke, before his head tilted questioningly at that last part.

“I’ll forever be in your debt,”—now that had the beast’s attention—“if you keep him,” I waved off at Rek, “away from me!”

Okay, so maybe I was using Zhuii’s hard-on for humans to my advantage but, in my defense, they abducted women like it was going out of style. Who were the real douches here?!

Ditching the blue-haired Zhuii beast, I took off, squealing as I trampled into a wild patch of vegetation, off the well-worn path, the sound of Rek bounding after me hurrying me along.