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Not even bothering to greet her, I pull the doors open with my free hand and march inside. Pulling some of the odd sacks in front of me, I set the deer down upon them and get to work cutting pieces of meat from the body. As I work, I stoutly ignore my mate, not wishing to feel another stab to the hearts. She can hate me in silence. I will prepare this meal for her and see that she is fed whether she likes the one feeding her or not.
By the time I have taken all my aggression and anger out on the poor deer, all I am left with is a pile of sliced meat and a clean carcass. Once more I walk outside, bringing the skeleton with me. Shifting, I run it as far away as I can before returning to my mate’s side once more.
Chapter Eight
*Reggie*
Damn my bleeding heart, I feel bad. When I woke up in Ragnar’s arms, I reacted with surprise and all but ran away from him. Not unlike how I avoided him last night too. It is a lot to take in, and I needed time to process what he told me. Now, I think I’ve hurt his feelings. He won’t even look at me when he returns from hunting.
Nor will he look at me as he butchers the deer. Guilt and shame fill me and as much as I want to tell him the crazy thoughts banging around in my brain, I’m not sure I can do them justice. As it is, I’ve done a piss poor job of it. My face last night most definitely gave away some of my emotions. I have a bad case of RBF on a good day, much less on a day when a monster decides to tell me I’m his wife.
My reaction when I woke up isn't because I don’t want to be married to him though. A blush heats my face when I remember the feelings that rushed through me, strange unwanted emotions that I know all too well. The feeling of being pressed up against a wide, warm chest sent tingles through me and not tingles of fear.
The feeling of being so warm, safe and cared about seduced me far more than any six pack of abs ever could. Before my brain caught up with my body, I didn’t care that the person I was pressed up against was covered in scales. Nor did it care that the arms and face belonged to someone not quite human. All my body cared about were the feelings he gave me, and now that I sit watching him butcher his kill…I’m still throbbing. My core clenches again and I’m just not sure what to do with this information.
It doesn’t help that his scent weaves a spell around me. It rivals the tastiest cinnamon rolls mixed with a hint of spice. A walking chai latte if you will, and I have always been a sucker for a nice chai latte. The only problem is that my uncertainty keeps my lips sealed and my arms locked around my legs. I am frozen in the corner, watching as he works.
A sense of urgency fills the back of my mind, the need to accomplish my mission and get back to my sisters is a living compulsion. Even then, it can’t quite penetrate the fog that has taken a hold of me. Sexual attraction isn’t new to me. I wasn’t born yesterday, and I am no blushing virgin. I took advantage of my early twenties. Once I became a member of law enforcement? I shut that side of myself down.
Working in a male dominated field, it doesn’t do well to sleep with the attractive young coworkers. Once you break it off or something happens, you still must work with them. It was a situation I wished to avoid. I embraced my cold, dead fish reputation so that I could enjoy the job I loved.
Memories swarm me, not letting me escape the black hole of emotion that I have tried not to fall into for a long time. Not sleeping with my coworkers didn’t save me in the end. In fact, it is what destroyed my career, my life and forced me to completely rethink my future. Not all men are bad. I know that, but damn if the bad ones don’t ruin it for everyone else. I thought that working in the sheriff’s department would have weeded out the bad ones. I was so very wrong.
One night, after working a long shift I was performing my exit duties. A fellow deputy, an older man, decided that was the time to shoot his shot. He came at me in the dark locker room and trapped me against my open locker. Unwanted feelings of helplessness and rage fill me and I quickly shut down that line of memories, focusing on the situation at hand. Needless to say, my approach to sexual attraction hasn’t been the same since. Now that I am feeling attraction for a monster? I do not know how to react.
So, I don’t. I sit watching him as the day wears on, unsure how to approach him, our situation or this thing between us. To his credit, Ragnar doesn’t press. He simply works, not once needing me to tell him what to do or asking me to do anything for him. It is odd, not being needed. Not having to take charge of any situation I am in. For the first time in well over three years, I am able to simply exist.
After butchering the deer and discarding the carcass, he takes a handful of meat and eats it. The smell, though bloody, is divine and when he motions me over and attempts to hand me some of the smaller bits, I consider refusing. There is no telling how many parasites the deer has, but my mouth waters at the concept of eating real meat. Our stores ran out of it after the first year and for the past two all I have eaten is vegetables dusted with protein power.
Parasites be damned. With a small smile, I take the meat from him and tentatively take a bite. Just because I am almost desperate for real protein, doesn’t mean the taste of raw meat will be to my liking. Almost as if my body is on the same page as my mind, the flavor that bursts through my mouth is orgasmic. With a moan I shove the rest of the piece into my mouth.
For the first time since he returned, Ragnar’s gaze meets mine. Almost as if he is afraid of my reaction, he quickly drops his gaze once more, snatching up another small piece of meat to feed me. My instinct is to say no, that once raw piece was enough. That we need to cook it, but it wouldn’t be safe. The smoke alone would attract the attention of every predator in the vicinity. Add the smell of cooked meat? We would be in danger.
I smile again and take the meat, but he doesn’t look at me, nor does he see it. Sighing, guilt hits me hard. I did this. Something in my reactions has put this sadness in the big goof’s eyes and I do not like it. For all his inhuman looks, he has been nothing but kind to me. Some married humans don’t even treat their spouse with as much care as he has shown me.
Chewing the meat quickly, I reach out and place my hand on his arm. He freezes, a piece of meat halfway to his own mouth. Nothing is said but I can almost feel the war happening inside of him before he finally looks my way. Deliberately I smile, letting him see how much I appreciate his hard work before I say the words.
“Thank you. You have taken care of me and I haven’t been the most gracious about it. Without you I would be dead. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. This is a lot and I just need time to process it. I can’t promise you I will be the wife you desire but if all else fails I want to be your friend.” My words seem inadequate, unable to encompass all I want to say.
His eyes bore into mine, as if seeking more. I do not flinch or look away, not wanting to spoil the moment. It feels pivotal, a turning point between us. When he nods, giving me a small smile in return, I could almost collapse with relief. I didn’t realize how much pressure I have felt since he revealed we were the alien version of husband and wife until now. Or how much his response meant to me.
An unwanted flashback of a dark locker room, of bodies pressed up against each other, of ‘no’ not being heeded, of immense pain and fear hits me and steals my breath for a moment. My smile fades and I shove a piece of venison into my mouth so that my face will not spoil the moment. These are not Ragnar’s problems. He is not responsible for the sins of others, and yet I cannot control the deep fear that threatens to make me go numb.
This is the root of my reaction to his declaration that we are married. Not that a monster wishes to claim me. This is a new world and I would be an idiot to not recognize that in a new world, new solutions must be considered. No, it was the implication of intimacy. Married people have sex. He never voiced as such, maybe aliens don’t do that. Maybe they reproduce through osmosis. Regardless, the potential for that expectation is there and it terrifies me.
I didn’t even know the aliens were anything other than beasts until yesterday and now I am having to come to terms with a new fear. A new thing to worry about with them. The memory of his massive cock worms its way into my mind and even as fear runs through me, so too does desire. I’m ten shades of fucked up and I have no way of explaining that to Ragnar, not that he would even understand. Fear of not being believed keeps me silent, stops me from even trying.
Ragnar, sensing the change in me, shuts down. His face falls and he almost seems to shrivel back, putting space between us. Something in me breaks and a tear slips down my face as words tumble out. This alien doesn’t deserve this emotional limbo. I can’t give him an answer, but I can give him some semblance of peace.
“Please don’t. This is too much, too soon and it isn’t your fault. I feel nothing but appreciation for you. I can make no promises past friends but the looks on my face, the silence, have nothing to do with you.” My hand on his arm stops him from moving away and his eyes search mine, as if seeking the truth. Whatever he sees, he relaxes and nods.
“Friends.” He confirms, though the word is grumbly. A radiant smile splits my face. Hesitantly he smiles a toothy grin back before offering me another piece of meat, providing for me even though we are in this weird limbo. Shaking my head, I smile to soften my denial.
“It has been years since I had real meat. I shouldn’t push my luck and get sick. It was truly delicious though, thank you.” I murmur the words, even now assessing my body. My aches and pains are minimal, thanks to his magic saliva no doubt. Even my leg has healed, a thin scar the only sign I was even injured. Better to be safe than sorry though, even when my whole body desperately wants more of the deer.
We have too much traveling to do for me to gorge myself and get sick. Which reminds me of my original mission and my mood sours even further. This time, I am careful to school my features into nonchalance, not wanting Ragnar to think he has displeased me…which is crazy that I even care, but I do. He has been a godsend this entire time. A beacon of light in the darkness of this damn world.
Movement startles me and I watch as Ragnar scoops up the remaining meat and heads outside. Unsure what he is doing, I am distracted from my thoughts as I watch him walk into the clearing. His shift into his more monstrous form is almost instant and in one bite he consumes what is left, leaving no trace before shifting once more and striding towards me. Now is the best time, if any, to tell him of my plans.
