The King (Zolan Book 3) ✓

5

DIONNE

I wipe a frustrating tear with the back of my wrist, gritting my teeth in pain.

The alien has been gone all day. I lit the fire and picked up his tools as soon as he left. With a shard of glass, I tried to make a makeshift microscope, wetting it to alter the perspective. It didn't do much good.

While I was handling the tools, I burned my hand. Blisters are already developing. I was so nervous about the alien finding me messing with his things that I also cut myself on the jagged glass.

There is so much I have to do. I need smaller pliers, and a forge to faster melt the alloy. I need—

I shoot up from the stool when the doors barge open. The alien is back like a storm, heavy boots pounding on the wooden boards, cloak hanging from his broad shoulders and casting a shadow that strains for me. His eyes are bright like a forest fire and strong puffs of air come from his chest.

He's back and caught me red-handed again. I know it's dangerous to keep pissing this male off by using his property, but I need to fix the device to speak with him. I'm not one to hide in a shed and hope to be saved.

He closes the door and begins to undress. The cloak comes off first, then his weapon, then his boots. His burned trews stay on, although they do nothing to shield me from the memory of what lurks between those thick thighs.

He's angry again; focused entirely on me instead of his bleeding arm.

He is so grand that I don't think any door, any portal, could protect me from his reach. I fear him, but I'm also concerned, because he hasn't hurt me although I've trespassed and misused his things. Even when his cocks hardened for me, he didn't force himself on me. I don't want him to be hurt. I want to help him treat his bleeding arm, but my feet are heavy with dread.

He goes into the kitchen, removing the lid of a large barrel and scooping a cup of water. Then, he closes the distance between us, and he stands right where he did when I met his cocks.

The fire burns brightly beside us, and my body warms with awareness. Alien or not, he's an attractive, agile male. I don't understand his tongue, but his deep voice speaks of his strength, and those enormous cocks are a nod to his virility.

There are many weapons in this farm, but he is the deadliest.

He extends a hand slowly, as if not wanting to alert me. Then, he opens his hand and reveals a small pouch. His free hand holds the cup, and I take it he wants me to consume whatever this is.

He pays the fire no mind, more interested in handing me the pouch.

I hesitate before accepting it and looking inside. There's a small ball in there, crushed to the size of a capsule. It's pink in color and odorless. Who knows what this thing is? It's not like I can ask him.

I shake my hand, and he sighs. He goes to my makeshift table and picks up my device. My heart jolts, because I know that with a squeeze of his fist, the device would pulverize.

He takes the pouch from me and levels both hands, signaling that they are even. At least that's what I'm assuming he's saying.

His expression is more intense than ever before. He's watching me... with hopeful eyes. His arm is bleeding but he devotes his attention to me instead.

I don't know why this is so important to him, or what the hell this thing will do to me, but consuming this might be either the dumbest or smartest decision I make today.

With this device requiring months of experimentation and with Trey stuck in the shed, I'm leaning toward testing my luck and complying.

He extends his hands again, and I accept the pouch. I put the capsule in my mouth, staring at the fire and praying the capsule is either candy or a way to teleport back to Earth.