Elodie
I try to settle, but my spine continues to shake from the cold and the anxiety that have terrorized me today. The fears of Locanas coming after me still plague my thoughts. Every sound, every unexpected movement has me jumping.
But... I'm a bit distracted from all the horror.
An enormous, gorgeous alien has taken me to his home. Atleast, I assume it's his home.
And when I say he's enormous, I mean he is huge. He's the biggest Rytarian I've seen. He's gotta be at least 7'5" or something. And he's a striking contrast to what I'm used to. He was so tender, so calm. I felt safe when he touched me, like nothing bad could ever happen again. It's ridiculous.
He snatched me right out of the woods. He found me with a bow slung over his wide shoulders and an angry expression painted on his face. He looked like an avenging angel, or a Greek god sent to rescue me.
I watch everything carefully now. This cabin was built for him, I'm sure of it. Tall ceilings and giant furniture to match, I feel like a child sitting on his gargantuan couch.
Peeking through the doorway, I spy on him. He moves around the kitchen carefully, not making much noise as the smell of food wafts through the air.
I pull the blanket he draped over me closer as I shiver, daring a glance out the window. The glass is foggy with rain. There are so many shadows and dark spaces where Locanas could be hiding. Growing uneasy, I lean away from the window and focus my attentions elsewhere.
Audomatically I stand, testing my uneasy legs and hurt ankle. I'm feeling much better already. The strength is returning. Hobbling past the roaring fireplace with my busted ankle slowing me down, I make my way into the kitchen. The room is spacious but cozy, continuing the log cabin theme that I've noticed. Everything is made of wood.
I watch the alien man cautiously. He stands over a stove, mixing something in a big black pot. I almost choke when I realize that he's completely shirtless.
His massive back is tan, and dotted in countless scars and angry marks that cover maps of enormous muscle.
Glancing over, I see that he discarded his shirt on the counter tops.
I also realize that the wooden kitchen counter is so high it sits at my armpits. Again, clearly built for a massively tall person, which is not me. I cap out at 5'6". Not exactly anything to brag about, especially around this dude.
The Rytarian male still hasn't spotted me, so I clear my throat.
He turns, eyeing me with furrowed brows. It gives me a chance to get a better look at him, I hadn't noticed him much earlier when I was trembling in his arms.
His dark hair is unkempt, but in an overtly sexy way. There are also hairs all along his jaw, a sprinkling of long stubble that makes him appear rugged.
His eyes are mismatched. One is a warm, electric brown, and the other a calming dark blue. They both glow like stars.
And then there's his scars that continue on his face. They don't detract from his appearance in any way. They don't stand out, you can't even see them unless you look for them. They're faint lines splattered across his skin that hint at stories of his past.
He has a strong nose, and angular cheekbones, and an exquisite jawline.
And then there's his 8 pack. The dude is shredded.
In other words, this stranger is drop dead gorgeous.
"Mashaleeta delet ras Relinkas." He murmurs, his voice so deep and full of gravel I can feel my eyebrows lift. There's something very calming about him.
He points to the living room, and I shrug. Then I see that he's staring at my ankle. He knows I'm hurt.
"I just wanted to see what you were doing." I murmur, and he narrows his eyes at me.
Wait a minute, can he not understand me?
I point to my ear, and then my mouth. His eyes dawn in understanding, and he shakes his head.
Great. This is completely hopeless then. Neither of us understands a single word the other says. This should be interesting.
The warrior man drops his wooden spoon with a sigh and a shake of his head, stomping over to me. My natural reaction is to take a few steps backwards, images of Locanas towering over me flitting into my brain from my memories.
He stops, looking down at me with a gentle look. It's oddly comforting.
Carefully, he places his enormous hand onto my shoulder, his fingers warm and strong. Worry spreads through me, but he doesn't get in my face like Locanas did. He doesn't stare at me in an unnerving way. He just leads me to the living room.
I walk ahead of him, both his hands steering me gently. I stumble once, my stupid sprain driving me crazy.
He stops, and I glance at him in question. He points to the couch with a steely expression that tells me not to question his command.
I nod, hiding my smile as I sit back on the big, cushy couch.
I watch him silently as he bends by the fire, tending to the flames by adding some dry brown brush to it. It ignites, growing and thriving under his care.
It's fascinating, watching a beast of a man being so careful with his large hands.
Something else very interesting is his back and shoulders, bared to my view. The muscles ripple and flex with every simple movement. I put a hand to my mouth, half expecting there to be drool dripping from my lips.
When he turns, I look away, pretending to look around the room instead. It's ridiculously cozy. A huge crackling fire, comfortable furniture and wooden logs for walls. I notice that there are a lot of animal hides laying around. Some look like sheep pelts, super fuzzy and soft.
I would guess he's an avid hunter. The arrows her carried looked deadly. And so did his weird looking dog who is tied up outside.
He must be a successful hunter too. I doubt anything could get away unharmed when he had it in his mind to kill it. But he lives in this place. A quiet, comfortable cabin.
I could get used to this. Not that the palace isn't nice, but the expensive jewels and lavish drapes aren't exactly my style. They're overwhelming and cold. But this place, it's so warm, so inviting.
Mysterious alien guy stands, walking towards me slowly like I might bolt. I stay still, waiting to see what he'll do. He stalks past the couch to a large chest in the corner, which he opens. He digs through it, grabbing something from inside after some rummaging.
He comes back around the couch, and watches me with those warm, mismatched eyes. His face is fierce, but his energy is calm. He holds a small, metallic box in his arms. I clutch my blanket closer.
I assume that he's asking permission to come closer, so I simply nod my head. I was right. He comes forward, kneeling on one knee in front of me. He puts the box on the couch cushion beside me, opening it to display what I can only assume is medical supplies by the looks of it.
"Are you going to patch me up?" I joke, and his lips twitch in amusement.
His huge fingers are careful as they pick through the supplies.
"Rasnaser, fevb alsha res to." His language is so beautiful and strange at the same time. I gulp, nodding as if I understood, which I definitely do not.
He reaches for me, and I pull the blanket away and reveal my injured arm. He raises an eyebrow as he holds out a massive hand. I give him my arm, crusted with blood and dirt. I suppose it's more urgent than a twisted ankle since the cut can get infected, but it definitely doesn't hurt as much.
I can't help but compare our flesh as he turns my limb in his grip. My arms are skinny and dotted with freckles and light red peach fuzz . His arms are roped with thick muscles and covered in tan skin.
The size difference between our bodies makes me nervous, so I glance at his face instead.
The warrior is concentrated, carefully holding my wrist as he examines the deep gouge near my elbow. His fingers are warm and gentle, the skin rough with callouses.
His dark brows furrow, his full lips pursing. I admire his beauty while he takes care of me. He cleans the wound with steady movements. Cleaning the cut stings a little, but I hold very still.
The giant covers my wound with a bandage, keeping it in place by wrapping some kind of gauze around my arm. I flex under his touch, not wanting to be seen as some weak little lamb.
He reaches for my other arm, and I allow it. He turns my limb over, basically assessing me for any more wounds.
"I'm fine, really. That's the extent of my cuts, I promise." I explain, knowing full well he can't even understand me, but trying to communicate with him anyway.
His gaze shoots to my face, and my skin burns with a flush. His eyes simmer, and then his hand reaches for my cheeks. I shy away slightly, but I let him touch my face anyway. I don't really know why, but I trust this guy.
Something about him seems trustworthy, and I can't put my finger on it. When I was around Locanas, I had a pit in my stomach. But with this guy, it just feels right.
"Uhm, okay..." I say as his fingers explore my flushed face. I guess he's never seen someone blush before, and mine is pretty intense.
"I suppose I should introduce myself." I say, grabbing his arm and pulling it away from my cheek.
Holding his wrist in my hand, I notice that I can't even wrap my whole hand around it. Not even close. Thick veins flex under his skin, and then he relaxes, letting his hand fall into my lap when I still hold tightly to him. His arm is heavy, not surprising.
"I'm Elodie." I soon realize that an introduction like that won't work with him, because he stares at me blankly.
As far as he's concerned, my name is just another weird word in the English language.
So, I lift his heavy arm as best I can, and he complies, lifting it with me to ease the burden. I take his enormous hand and splay it across my upper chest, the tips of his fingers brushing my collarbones.
"Elodie. Elodie." I repeat, pointing at myself with my free hand. "Elodie."
Understanding dawns in his gaze, and he nods once.
"Ell-oh-dee." He sounds out in his deep voice, gesturing to me, and I grin in triumph. He gets it!
"Yes. Elodie."
He pulls his hand away from me, and I sigh in longing, suddenly missing the warmth. I don't have to miss it for long, because he grabs my hand, pulling it without difficulty up to his naked chest. I swallow, trying not to enjoy the sensation of rock hard muscles that tempt me from beneath my skin.
"Barre." He grunts, and I squint at him.
Barre? He's named after a bear? Probably not, but it isn't a terrible coincidence. He sort of resembles a bear.
He watches me expectantly, and I grin.
"Barre." I manage, and he nods in approval, amusement shimmering on his face.
Well, I suppose that wasn't the worst introduction in the world. He's definitely intelligent. Maybe it won't be too difficult to communicate with each other after all.
I just hope that my trust isn't misplaced in Barre's hands, because I cannot handle another Locanas.
Double update! Read on