The King (Zolan Book 3) ✓

3

DIONNE

I'm disoriented and flustered, the quick escalation of events leaving a rash on my concentration. But I have to focus and take the lead, because I know Trey definitely won't. He's too busy cowering against the wall.

The alien waits for me to follow him, his expression thunderous after finding Trey attacking me. Although all I want to do is lay in a fetus position and lament about all I've lost— my home and my endearment for Trey, I have no time for that.

I take the device from the table and clutch it tightly. My hope is to fix it and communicate with the alien local. I need to ask him how to get home, because he's my last chance of making sense of this madness.

The local growls something and points at the exit. He wants me to go with him, and I don't think I have a choice.

"I—" I swallow hard. My knees are buckling worse than when I wore heels. I'm quickly losing grip. "I'll be back," I whisper to Trey, scared my voice might anger the alien. "I'll try to find some tools to fix the chip."

"Dionne, I didn't mean to shake you." He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm so sorry. You must think the worst of me. Please..."

"It's done. We need to focus on survival," I respond, my voice firm. "Stay in here and lay low. If I fix the device, I will return to you."

"For what?"

"To test it, Trey!"

He shakes his head. "NASAs transmission devices barely made it past the animal trials. There's no way I'm putting that on my head and risk frying my brain."

I purse my lips, my empathy straining just as thin. "But it's fine if I fry my brain, right?"

"Well..." his eyes flicker as he seeks an excuse. "I've been busting my back carrying buckets of water daily."

Right. The one and only thing he ever does. He's once again using it as his scapegoat.

How did I ever become infatuated by this man?

"Stay here, Trey. I'll return."

I step toward the local, but then I realize I'm leaving something unsaid: Although I'm a bit clumsy and star-eyed, I'm no pushover.

"And if you ever lay your hands on me again, you'll have more than buckets of water to worry about."

I turn to face the alien, and my small blip of confidence completely flatlines. Because the way he looks at me is so intense, I don't need language to understand what he's feeling. Rage, and utter devotion. He's not letting me go.

He isn't built like Trey in body or spirit. I can tell. Those eyes of his are crimson, not blue. His muscles are unapologetic, not discreet. The hand he sets on my shoulder, urging me to step out, is commanding but not cruel.

He is not a prince in shining armor, but a wild man in rugged furs.

I step out, holding the device. The seven-foot giant leads the way across the grass and into the farmhouse. I had been dying to explore this place, but I never thought I would run into its owner.

I stare at the back of his dark tunic, my eyes zeroing in on his massive biceps. My hands become clammy around the device, because I recognize I'm in this man's mercy. What other choice do I have but to follow him? The next local that finds me trespassing might attack first and ask questions later.

No matter what, I need to quickly communicate with him.

The french doors creak when he shoves them aside, the tall frame built for his seven-foot stance. I peek inside. The place is devoid of warmth. Everything is practical, the walls free of portraits, and the furniture is minimal. There's a stool by a fireplace, and a wooden table in the kitchen with only one chair. The curtains are drawn shut, mismatching and patched with a few holes.

It's safe to assume his wife won't be coming home.

I focus on the fireplace. There are a few metal tools gathered there, like an anvil, swords, hammers, and tongs. Medieval tools used for blacksmithing. While it's not ideal, I might be able to solder using his equipment.

The man sees my attention on the fireplace. He kicks his boots off, the lack of them not making him any shorter.

Good grief, he's enormous.

Intimidating silence fills the room. I can't bear his intelligent, consuming stare, so I focus on the fireplace.

Seeing my interest, he walks over and sparks the flames. He must think I'm cold. The night is falling, and the farm always chills.

I dare to move closer to inspect his equipment. If I want to fix the device, I need to melt metal.

The giant stands from his crouched position, standing closer than ever as the flames crackle behind him. I hold my breath until he grumbles something under his breath and disappears around the corner.

My hands instantly move to his equipment, desperately looking for what I need. I lift the tongs. They're heavy, but I can handle them. I can use this to hold a cup to the flame and melt an alloy.

Wanting to test the tongs, I hold them over the fire. They're long enough that the reach is good, and they scissor pretty well in my hands.

The booming sound of a male's voice startles me. The alien lunges, looking fearful. Seeing so much bulk barging at me sets me into panic. I drop the tongs as I step back, the wood sparking when the heavy metal hits it.

The alien shouts again, his hands falling to his thighs to smack his pants that are now sparkling with fire. He grips the ties at the center and yanks them off, jumping out of the pants and stomping on them. The first thing I notice is his strong thighs, and then the two appendages swinging between his legs.

My jaw falls. The shock I experienced when I was teleported to this planet pales in comparison to what I'm feeling now. Two?! He has two cocks?!

The things are thick and heavy, a dark wine color, and powered by thick veins. Although not erect, they're still formidable.

Slowly, I peer up at his eyes of the naked alien. He's deadly still, and from my peripheral vision, I can see those cocks are no longer flaccid.