Chapter 1

Icarefully set the utensils on the table, making sure each is aligned perfectly with the one next to it and is the exact same distance from the edge of the table. When I finish, I eye each piece to make sure it is perfect before stepping back and taking in the whole.

Khiara puts a bowl down at my place on the table. As he does the bowl brushes the utensil and knocks it askew. He turns back to the counter without even a second glance. I grit my teeth while giving his back a dirty look.

Dilacs leans against the counter watching. He grunts when he sees it happen and walks over to fix the offending utensil. He gives me a quick smile that makes butterflies dance in my stomach then he returns to his place on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Khiara continues with the serving of dinner, oblivious to the exchange happening behind his back. He turns with the next bowl and all but tosses it down at the seat set for his brother. Some of the stew slops over the side and drips onto the table. Khiara is already back at the stove scooping up the next bowl.

My eye twitches. He is so… messy. It's constant, little things, that literally drive me nuts. I cannot stand it, but what choice do I have? I look over at Dilacs who shrugs and gives a subtle shake of his head.

He gets it. Fuck me the way he looks at me, is he interested? Those half-lidded eyes of his make my panties melt.

"Dinner," Khiara says, setting his own bowl at the table.

One hand on his chair he pauses looking from me to Dilacs with a frown so deep it makes his tusks touch his nose. He grunts, pulls the chair out, and drops heavily onto it. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as if I've been caught red-handed doing something wrong.

It's not wrong. I didn't do anything.

Sure. But it feels wrong. I don't know if Dilacs is interested anyway. Sure when he looks at me with those eyes it makes me hot, but in the end, they're his eyes. How else is he supposed to look at me? I'm probably reading more into it than is there. I take my seat at the table and focus on my bowl.

"Thank you," I say, talking to the steaming stew.

I can't bring myself to look up. Too many things spinning in my head and none of them are helpful. I've been living with Khiara for a while. Near as I can figure it's been close to a month. I haven't seen any of the other girls in a long time. Even the Maulavi have quit coming on the regular, thank all that's holy.

"Yes," Khiara says, slurping loudly. "Of course."

Dilacs is more delicate. Well, that's not a very ‘manly' way to say it. He has better table manners. Wait, more accurately, he has table manners that agree with my human sensibilities. I don't know what the table manners of the Urr'ki actually are.

Ah the joys of interacting with and being, more or less, the prisoner of aliens. The Urr'ki are to a one as alien as they come. Khiara has forest green skin with long black hair that he binds into braids with beads that look like they are made of iron. His eyes are so dark they look almost black. He has a long, thick beard and his tusks are ivory in color rising from his lower jar. He's the one I was ‘assigned' to by the Maulavi when I was split off from the other human captives.

His brother, Dilacs, is similar enough to see the family resemblance but only in passing. His skin is a lighter shade of green. His eyes are a rich, vibrant blue. He's clean shaven and clearly the younger of the two of them. Khiara's face has several old scars that crisscross his face while Dilacs's is smooth and clear.

Dilacs watches the world with heavy eyelids that look almost sleepy or distracted but I think I know him well enough to know that he is anything but. He's sharp, fast on the uptake, and misses nothing.

I reach for the bottle of seasoning but Dilacs does at the same time and our hands meet at the middle of the table. His large hand easily covers mine and as our skin touches a static shock leaps between us.

"Oh," I gasp at the shock.

Khiara looks up from his bowl, utensil half-way to his mouth. His eyes on our hands where they are touching each other, eyes narrowing, and a deepening frown on his face. I jerk my hand back once more embarrassed, though I don't know why.

I'm not his. I live in his house. No, don't live, I'm a prisoner here. It's not like I can leave.

And that subtle, or not so subtle, reminder dampens my mood. I do my best to not think about the fact that I am, in the end, at his mercy. He, for his part, doesn't ever push it. My status as a prisoner was very clear when the Maulavi were coming not only every day, but sometimes multiple times a day, to question me over and over. Since that's stopped it's become less obvious and more like some kind of normal. A comfortable, okay normal, though it would be nice to see other humans.

Dilacs uses the seasoning then silently offers it to me. I stare at it for probably too long a moment before my mind catches up to what's happening. I take the bottle with a murmured thank you and flavor the stew.

"It's really good, Khiara," I say, trying to break the heavy feeling of the silence laying over the table.

"Heh," he grunts, slurping loudly.

As he shovels the stew into his mouth some drips onto the table with a sploosh sound. All around his bowl are little speckles of the stew that have fallen like tiny rain drops of mess disturbing the cleanliness that exists on the rest of the space. It makes me feel twitchy.

Comparatively, the space around Dilacs's bowl is clean. He doesn't slurp his food. When some of it does inevitably spill he immediately cleans it with his napkin. They may be brothers, but they are also night and day to one another.

Dilacs notices my gaze. He frowns and then follows my eyes as I shift my gaze to the mess around his brother"s bowl. His frown deepens then he closes his heavy eyelids and sighs. He opens his eyes, holds mine, shrugs, and then shakes his head.

Keeping it as soft as possible I sigh and shake my head too. He chuckles and once again Khiara looks up frowning. He glares at his brother and grunts then says something in their rough, guttural language.

Dilacs responds with what sounds like a harsh bark. I can do nothing but look between the two of them. I've seen them do this before. Once it ended with the two of them in blows. Dilacs didn't come around to visit for several days after that which, honestly, sucked. I miss him when he's not here.

Khiara's hand clenches tight and he slams it down onto the table making me jump. Involuntarily I yelp, sliding my chair back. Both of the Urr'ki men look at me and I raise my hands, shaking my head.

"Sorry," I mutter, using my napkin to clean up the stew that slopped out of my bowl.

"No, I am sorry," Khiara says. "That was uncalled for."

I force a nervous smile. They're brothers so I suppose some tension is natural but I really hate it when they do this.

"I also apologize," Dilacs says.

The way he stares at me with his hooded eyes makes my breath seize in my chest and my panties wet. His voice drips sex too. Deep, rich, and rumbly, fuck I want him.

"It's, uhm, fine," I say. "No big, right?"

Khiara frowns deeper as he stares at me.

"No big?" he asks.

"You know, it's okay. Not a big deal."

"Huh," he grunts and Dilacs chuckles.

The instant Dilacs chuckles Khiara growls and his confused look switches to an angry glare at his brother. Crap, here we go again.

"It's okay, I mean—" The floor vibrates and I stop talking midsentence. "Huh?"

Before I can say or do more the vibration becomes a full on quake. I'm thrown up into the air as things fall around the house. I slam back onto my chair, surely bruising my ass. I stand up to avoid that again, but I can barely remain upright. The table is bouncing, dislodging the dinner dishes that crash to the floor and shatter. The cabinet doors bang open and their contents fall.

"Ho!" Khiara exclaims as both he and his brother leap to their feet.

I stumble backwards and hit my head on the wall. Stars dance in my vision. Nothing makes sense. Trying to stay upright I push myself forward but the rumbling continues.

I lose my balance and then the table slams into me. The noise increases. I see Khiara speaking but I can't understand his words.

Hitting the ground hard and gaining new bruises on my poor ass I continue bouncing up and down as things fall, crash, and bang. I cover my head to try and protect myself with my arms but something strikes hard and for a moment everything is black.

"Gwen!" I hear Dilacs roar.

I look between my elbows in time to see him launch himself across the room. He grabs me into his arms and cradles me against his chest. He's so big I feel like a child's doll, but I'm also so grateful.

"This way!" Khiara yells.

Dilacs follows Khiara towards the door. The brothers fight for every step, rocking side-to-side and back and forth as the quaking continues. Peeking out from beneath Dilacs's protective hunch I see a crack form and race across the ceiling. It grows from the kitchen towards the stairs, dropping dust and pieces of stone.

Shit. This whole place may come down.

Khiara helps Dilacs out the door. The street is full of other Urr'ki. Screams fill the air, competing with the rumbling for which will be the loudest. Dust fills the air and being in an underground cavern, no matter how large, the sounds are echoing off all the stone walls and doubling over themselves.

People are hurt. I wriggle in Dilacs's arms, pushing against him to try and get down. He shakes his head, mouthing the word no but I insist. Directly across from us is a mother with two children. The mother's head is bleeding, the little ones are crying, and one of them also looks hurt. I am not going to let him hold me and do nothing.

"Now!" I yell, pushing against him.

No matter my desire to get down and help, I don't miss the sensation of how he feels. How in the world is he so freaking muscular? His chest is like pressing against a granite statue. Rock freaking solid man chest under his shirt.

I run my hands over his naked chest while he…. Get it together. Now is not the time.

I push and wriggle and he seems to get my point at last because he puts me on my feet but immediately has to grab me as the floor literally rolls beneath us like a wave. I stumble and almost lose my balance but he is gripping my arms which keeps me upright. Still, I only have eyes for that mother and her children.

She is holding one hand to her head and blood is leaking from between her fingers. The children, they look like one boy and one girl, the boy being the older of the two are also terrified. The girl is holding a stick close to her chest. The boy is cradling one of his arms and doing his best to not cry.

I stumble across the street, bouncing off of people who are milling around, screaming, and trying to figure out what's happening. Right as I reach the woman the rumbling stops. As fast as it came.

"Hello," I say, ducking down and looking up into her hunched form. "I want to help. Let me see."

I take ahold of her arm and try to pull her hand aside. The little boy kicks me in my shin, hard. I yelp as he screams something in his language that I don't understand.

"I'm trying to help," I say, dancing out of the way of his next kick.

The mother looks up, keeping the one hand pressed to her head, then shakes her head. Khiara and Dilacs come to stand behind me and they speak to the family. This brings a sense of calm to the scene that is very much needed and appreciated.

"I want to help her," I say, pointing at the mother. "Can you see to the boy"s arm?"

I'm not asking either of them specifically, but in my heart I'm talking to Dilacs. Sorry Khiara, not trying to be mean. You just don't do it for me.

Even so, Khiara is the one who nods and speaks. Dilacs, though, moves to the boy and begins tending his wounds. The mother lets me move her hand and inspect her wound. There is a nasty gash on top of her head angling down onto her forehead.

"I'll be right back," I say.

I run back to Khiara's house. The place is a mess. Everything that was in a cabinet anywhere is now in messy piles scattered around the floor. The furniture that isn't overturned is in total disarray. Food is splattered on the walls and even the ceiling.

I know where the towels were at and the other thing I'm looking for, alcohol, but finding both of them takes a lot longer because of the mess. Once I have them I run back out the door. I pour some alcohol onto the corner of the towel then set to cleaning the wound.

The poor woman yelps and then growls when I first touch the towel to it. There are small shards of pottery in the wound that I have to pause and clean out. When I pull the first one she whimpers. I do the only thing I can, I hand her the bottle of alcohol. She tilts it back and takes a long, long drink then looks me in the eye and nods.

I resume the work. People are organizing around us, setting to the tasks of putting their world back to right and tending the injured. I finish cleaning the wound at last. I don't have any bandages so I create a makeshift one with the towel.

"The boy will be fine," Dilacs says.

"Good," I say, stepping back and looking around.

The mother speaks, rapidly, but I've moved on to assessing all I can see. End of the day I'm still here on a mission to learn as much as I possibly can about the Urr'ki. Their society and any details about their way of life. A crisis like this tells you a lot about a people. What do they prioritize? Care for wounded? Defenses? Organizing?

Khiara steps into my line of sight interrupting my study. I look up at him, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest and hugging myself. When I do it he looks down, staring at my tits and he frowns. I'm not sure if that's a problem or not.

"She wants to thank you," Khiara says. "She is appreciative of your help."

I smile, tightly, and nod.

"It's fine," I say. "I'm glad to help."

He grunts, shakes his head, then speaks in his own tongue to the woman. Dilacs moves to my side so that he's close too. I don't miss that Khiara also seems to be doing the same thing.

You know, old me would have thought it was hot to have two hunky men wanting me. Carnally if nothing else. And I have to admit, physically, it is. But Dilacs…

A loud bell peals, ringing over all the ambient noise. Loud and deep, echoing around us then it repeats. I haven't heard this sound since we came. It's different. I look at the two boys, arching an eyebrow.

"The Shaman is summoning," Khiara says, speaking softly.

"Who?" I ask.

"Everyone," Dilacs says.

My stomach drops and my heart skips a beat.