Stolen (Tribes #2) - Milana Jacks Page 0,13

from Nar.

“What kind of animal is this?” I ask, crossing my legs.

“It’s not an animal.” He’s cutting up the food.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a male. A Ra long-hair.”

I frown, not understanding, but he puts a stick piled with meat that he cut up over the fire. The sizzling reminds me how hungry I am. Gur threw raw meat at me down in the hole a few times, but I wouldn’t eat it, so they fed me herbs and even flowers, though not the same kind of flower Mas brought.

Nar offers me a stick with seared meat on it, and finally, I’m warm and I’m going to eat, maybe even drink clean water. If I could shower, I’d be set.

I accept with a thank-you and tear into it as if I hadn’t eaten in days or weeks, so fast, I nearly choke on the deliciously tender meat. “This is really good,” I say with my mouth full, my ladylike behavior all but history.

“I’m a good hunter,” comes from outside the tent.

Nar grinds his sharp teeth. Those teeth are scary, and he’s easier to look at with his mouth closed. Still, he’s funny when annoyed, and I chuckle.

He bares his teeth and growls, then bites down on the dead uncooked animal, crushing the bone along with the meat. I gape as he chews and swallows in seconds. A small bone appears between his lips, and he takes it with his thumb and a forefinger and proceeds to clean his teeth with it. He spits on the floor and flicks the bone off to one side.

I stare, barely able to close my gaping mouth.

“What?” he barks.

Oh, a million and one things. First, his jaws are so powerful, they crushed the animal’s bones, and he swallowed without having to chew much. I don’t say that, but offer this instead: “The table at my brother’s house is set daily at the same time in three-hour increments during the day starting at eight in the morning. We dine at a table set with plates, glasses, and utensils, which we use for eating.”

He nods. “You’re sitting, using a stick now. If you can stop staring at me for a moment”—he winks—”you’ve got all you need.”

I chuckle. “I was just trying to explain why I’m staring at you. It’s all so different from what I’m used to on Earth.” Or Mars. Or Joylius, for that matter.

“You’re welcome to assess my fitness, female.”

I chew my food, trying not to keep staring at the broad shoulders or abs or the muscular thighs his kilt reveals when parted.

“A female living with her brother is unmated,” he says.

I am “unmated.” Thirty-two and unmated. I’ve refused all the suitors my brother chose for me, thereby not securing an alliance with a powerful family. Meanwhile, eager to marry, my older sister took it upon herself to secure an alliance for us. Trouble is, the man she wants set his sights on me. Hence, I left for an extended vacation to Joylius from which I never intended to return. Among other reasons, I needed the general of National Security to forget me and give my sister his full attention.

“You seem…sad,” Nar says.

Sighing, I twirl my stick. “Most women my age are already married, and I’m used to having to deflect people’s questions when they bring up marriage.”

“Does that make you sad? That you’re not mated?”

I shrug. “Sometimes, but I have reasons.”

“Not to worry. You will mate as soon as you finish your kebab.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant.”

“You’ve assessed my fitness.”

Jesus! “I wasn’t assessing your…fitness.” I was assessing his fitness, and I can’t believe he called me out on it. Gentlemen don’t do that. I’m way out of my comfort zone here on the floor in a tent in the midst of an alien race that looks like they can’t decide if they want to eat me or breed me. Maybe both.

“What are you doing when you’re looking at me?” he prods.

I flush and pick at my stick. “I’m just looking.”

“Are you shy?”

“Maybe you’re too blunt. Ever thought about that?” What the hell. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

He leans in. “That works for me.”

Shit, I walked into that one. I place the last piece of meat aside and lie down, covering my head with the fur.

The male laughs, and I hear him chewing, moving around, then nothing. I peer over the pelt. The tent stands empty. The fire crackles, and I see he placed more wood at the top. Maybe he won’t return