But then memories trickle in. Memories of frantic hunting for trees, chopping at one, and then something hitting me hard from behind.
And purring, oddly enough.
Relief shoots through me. I’m okay. My khui fixed my brain tumor. I’m not on Earth, and I’m not dying.
The purring is still in my mind, though, like a gigantic cat that won’t leave my chest. Except, I realize as I slowly open my eyes, there are no cats here, and the purring is coming from inside my chest.
Shit. I’ve been around the others long enough to know what that means. It’s resonance. I’m resonating to a man because my khui – or cootie, as we humans like to call it – has decided I’ll be the perfect mate for someone. The only men we were traveling with were Aehako and Haeden, though. One of them? I like Aehako, but I know he’s in love with Kira. Haeden is all gruff snarls. I’m not sure I like the thought of being his mate.
Not that I’m given a choice. Thanks, cootie. Thanks for nothing.
My eyes focus slowly, and I realize I’m staring at the jagged ceiling of an unfamiliar cave. Why am I in a cave? Did I get hit by something and then Aehako came to rescue me? Is that why I’m resonating? My cootie has a damsel in distress complex?
Movement catches the corner of my eye. I turn my head, and then a gasp escapes me.
There’s a sa-khui male crouching in the cave next to me, but…it’s not any sa-khui I know. I sit upright and skitter backward as I realize he’s staring at me, a knife in his hand.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
My back presses up against the hard rock wall by the time I move a few inches, and I stare in horror at the stranger.
That can’t be. There’re no strangers on this planet. Not on Not-Hoth. There are only Vektal’s tribe and the humans. I know every alien face on this planet.
But I can’t deny that I’m staring into the face of a stranger. A savage one.
He crouches on the dirt floor of the cave like an animal, his shoulders hunched over his body. He’s naked, too. There’s not a stitch of clothing on his enormous, muscular blue body. His cock dangles between his thighs, erect and straining, and I see the ‘spur’ that everyone’s always talking about – the short horn-like protrusion right above the cock that is standard equipment for all sa-khui males. My face heats when I realize I’m checking out his junk.
Seriously, though, it’s just hanging between his open legs for anyone to look at.
His face is broad, his cheekbones high. His features are sharp, his brows heavy and ridged. The black hair on his head is a snarled nimbus that looks as if he’s tried to braid some of it out of the way and gave up long ago. It looks more like a tumbleweed than hair, and it’s clear he isn’t a big fan of combs.
Or bathing. I’m pretty sure his entire body is covered in a layer of dirt. If he doesn’t wear clothes, though, I guess there’s no point in bathing?
He watches me, eyes narrowed, and runs a stone along the edge of the knife, sharpening it. His movements are slow, and I can’t tell if it’s because he wants to seem threatening, or if he’s trying not to scare me. Given that he’s holding a knife? I’m going for threatening.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer, and I realize I’m talking in English. Whoops. I learned the old sa-khui tongue — sakh — while on the ship, so I try that instead. He doesn’t respond to it, either.
I…don’t know what to do. Is he deaf? He’s watching me, but he’s not responding to my attempts to talk to him.
“I’m Harlow,” I say. “Where are my friends?”
Again, there’s no response.
I press my hands flat on the ground. There’s a pebble under one palm, and I pick it up and flick it across the room to see if he reacts.
He follows the pebble and then frowns at me, a fierce snarl of bared teeth that makes me shiver. He’s not deaf. Okay, he’s just choosing not to talk to me.
Well, what the hell?
“Did Vektal send you?” I try. “Did Aehako and Haeden make it back to the caves? Have I been out for a long time?”
His gaze moves back to the knife and he runs the stone along the edge again, sharpening it.
“You can’t understand me at all, can you?” I’m shocked by this. There’s not another tribe of sa-khui, is there? But this man is alone, and he doesn’t understand the language of his people. I look around the small cave. Back in the tribal caves, each family has done their best to make their caves seem like home. Baskets and blankets fill the corners, and everywhere there are stored food, herbs, and daily implements.