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They react to my greeting without moving a single muscle or uttering a word. Every single tall alien is still frozen stiff with their glacial silver eyes glued to me. I feel like a bug under a microscope with every minute detail being silently studied and catalogued.
Talk about awkward.
The weird guy standing a few feet in front of us wearing what looks almost like a blue toga moves his eyes down my body, and I grow nervous when I realize that unlike the curious, almost analytical way the other aliens are studying me, his perusal feels different. Almost lascivious. If we were on Earth, I’d think he was some dirty old man mentally undressing me, but these guys are supposed to be different, aren’t they? I mean, Draggar has spoken often about how much his tribe values honor.
Next to me, Draggar stiffens at the man’s perusal and a soft growl rumbles through his chest. Toga Guy’s eyes widen and for a moment, it looks like he’s almost afraid, but then a mocking smile spreads across his face. The expression on his face is exactly the same as every other bully I’ve ever met, and I learned a long time ago that the best way to deal with them is to ignore them.
I squeeze Draggar’s hand and the nervous, possessive energy I can feel from him immediately calms and he pulls his gaze away from Toga Guy to stare down at me, a soft smile making the dimple beside his mouth appear.
When we first walked up, there were a few children running around the village center playing a game that looked very similar tag. Now, the small group of young boys comes running through the clearing where we’re all gathered. The little boy in the lead looks like he is about six years old, his skin a brighter hue – almost aqua – than the color most of the adult Laediriian sport and his hair lays in pale silver waves along his wide brow. He’s adorable. They all are.
As soon as the little boy notices me, he skids to a stop. “It’s an alien!” He shrieks, his silver eyes wide with terror.
The boys turn around as one entity and run to the back of the small gathered group and cower behind the adults. They peek out to stare at me in what looks like a mixture of fear and curiosity and my heart sinks.
Jeez, now I’m scaring kids.
This is not off to a good start. Well, at least it can’t get any worse.
At least, I hope not.
I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and this is eerily similar to a nightmare I used to have when I was in high school. Of course, I was naked in the middle of the school cafeteria in that dream, and it didn’t involve aliens. But the sharp rush of embarrassment and self-consciousness that rushes through me right now is exactly the same feeling I always had in that dream.
I nervously shift my feet as the aliens continue to stare, and I glance up at Draggar.
He smiles warmly at me and pulls me closer to his side like he wants to wrap his whole body around me to protect me. And just like that, the uncertainty I was feeling begins to dissipate. This alien – this man – has a way of making everything okay, and I don’t know how he does it. If I wasn’t already falling for him, then the way he holds me right now and the warm happiness on his face that I know is just for me would definitely do it.
The tension bracketing my body relaxes, and I turn back to study the aliens gathered in front of me a little closer.
They’re all male, just like Draggar said. I still can’t believe their species doesn’t have any females at all. It’s truly amazing they’ve managed to reproduce and survive this long.
Each one is tall with the same muscular physique that Draggar has. Although, I think my guy is bigger and stronger, but then again, maybe I could be a little biased. The gathered aliens all have the same broad foreheads, wide mouths, metallic skin that almost glitters in the light, and ridges that I now know serve as protection for their vital organs. Beneath their thick skin, bulging muscles envelope their towering frames.
These guys were designed to be warriors, and it’s clear by the swords on their backs that their muscles aren’t just for show.
I notice several of the alien men are more of a silver color with steely gray hair and deep wrinkles lining their skin, and I assume they’re the senior citizens of the tribe. But even most of the senior citizens in the tribe display reams of muscles that would make any bodybuilder back on Earth green with envy.
And they are all wearing the long loincloths that I’ve come to realize must be normal attire for Laediriians. Every single one. There are so many eight packs on display that I have a strong urge to look away in awkward embarrassment, but I can’t.
The silence stretches on and just when I start to wonder if the sight of me has made the entire tribe lose the ability to speak, it’s finally broken by an imposing, regal looking older alien who strides towards us forcing Blue Toga Guy to move out of the way or risk being trampled.
Blue Toga Guy reluctantly takes a few steps to the side. For a split second, a disdainful look of contempt flashes on his face before he replaces it with a smarmy sneer aimed at the imposing guy. Obviously, there’s no love lost between them.
The new guy comes to a stop just in front of us. A long sword is strapped to his back and knives stick out of a belt on his loincloth as if he’s prepared for a battle right here in the middle of what seems like a peaceful village, and I wonder if he’s expecting trouble. Lines radiate out from his eyes and deep grooves bracket his wide mouth on either side, leading me to believe he smiles a lot, but when I meet his eyes, I swear I see a hint of sadness before it’s quickly masked.
Based on the deference the other aliens show him and the respect in their gazes, I assume this guy is the chief of the tribe.
Every time I’ve heard Draggar mention Chief Daggir, his voice has been warm with affection and respect, and it’s clear he cares a lot for the other man.
The chief eyes Draggar up and down, warmth and affection in his silver gaze. Then he places his fist against his chest with his shoulders held straight and stiff as if he is at attention.
Draggar mimics his action, and I quickly realize it’s some sort of greeting.
“Greetings, Warrior Draggar.” The alien turns his shrewd gaze to me, scrutinizing me from the top of my head to the bottoms of the boots Draggar made me. “And his mate, Haley. I am Chief Daggir.”
I return his greeting with a friendly smile on my face.
Chief Daggir looks over his shoulder, and calls out to one of the gathered aliens, this one a lanky teen standing close to the table and benches laid out near the fire pit. “Merix, please add a seat for Haley.” The teen hustles away and returns with a large wooden chair that he situates at the head of the table.
