Page 29 of Caveman Alien's Heat
Last night we were pressed together inside the small metal cabin of the saucer. There was no space between us. No choice about it either, really. The cold forced us close.
But I remember every detail. The heat of his chest against mine. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The way his arms had curved around me without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I pull the fur tighter around myself. “You’re ridiculous,” I mutter to the empty cave. “I am warm. Perfectly warm.”
The Gar furs are thick, soft, and heavy. There is absolutely no reason for my body to miss the heat of a giant alien warrior. And yet it does.
I roll onto my side and stare at the cave entrance. The sky outside is turning black as night creeps over the glacier.
Hunters bring me fried meat and a vegetable stew, as well as a pot of hot water with leaves steeping in it. Voices drift faintlyfrom the totem pole area. The Gar hunters are talking near the fire pit. I catch pieces of conversation.
“…woman from the sky…”
“…Borok warrior…”
“…Plood ship…”
Every so often someone laughs.
My fingers play absently with the edge of the fur. “I guess I’m the major news item,” I say under my breath. “‘We interrupt this ordinary day in the tribe for this special news bulletin.’”
They’re probably wondering if I’m sacred. Or edible. Or they wonder how risky it would be to keep me here for the common good.
I shift again on the furs, trying to settle. It doesn’t work. My mind keeps drifting back to the same place, to the way Nator’ax stood beside me earlier. To the quiet confidence in his posture.
The chief of the Gar tribe is impressive. There is no denying that. Hoker’iz is powerful, scarred, and commanding, a natural leader of men.
But when he stood across from Nator’ax today, something strange happened. My attention stayed on Nator’ax. Even the chief seemed smaller, less important.
I press my face into the fur, groaning quietly. “Oh wow,” I mutter. “You really have a problem.”
Because the truth is obvious. I’m attracted to him. Not just a little, either. A lot. So much my stomach flips just thinking about it and my breath does strange things.
I remember the moment in the saucer when I lifted my face and kissed him. It was quick, playful, almost accidental. But his reaction… The way his body went completely still, except one part that was twitching so hard the furs moved.
The way his eyes darkened. I squeeze my eyes shut. “That was a bad decision,” I whisper, mostly for formality’s sake.
A part of me disagrees immediately. My brain argues back.He is sworn to protect you. He has taken an oath. And you are stuck in a freezing alien village surrounded by warriors who have never seen a woman before.
It’s a complicated situation, but not as bad as if I’d been here alone. Because that, I realize with a shudder, was absolutely an option. If Nator’ax hadn’t stowed away in that saucer, I might well have crashed on that glacier on my own. I would have been there with only a half-ripe Plood for company.
Outside, footsteps crunch across the ice. Two young hunters stop near the cave entrance.
“…she is smaller than I expected,” one of them says.
“I told you,” the other replies. “The Prophecy never mentioned size.”
“Do you think she is fragile?”
“I think the Borok warrior would break your arms if you tried to find out.”
They laugh quietly and walk away.
I sit up. “Well,” I say to myself, “that’s less encouraging. They believe in the freaking Prophecy.”
The cave grows darker as night settles fully over the glacier. Someone lights a torch outside the entrance, and its flickering glow paints soft shadows across the walls. I lie back again and pull the fur over my chin. “Sleep,” I tell myself firmly. “Come on. Sleep now. Think tomorrow. Night thoughts are always wrong.”
My eyes close, and for a few minutes I drift in that comfortable place between waking and dreaming. My body relaxes slowly, muscles loosening after the long march across the ice.
