Chapter Eleven

*Reggie*

Night passes slowly. Hour after hour ticks by, or at least I think it does. The only sign of passing time is the horrific sounds that filter through the door as monsters and beasts alike come to investigate the torn body in the next room. I may not be able to see what they look like, but as time ticks by my imagination fills any gaps. My fear builds at my imagined monsters until I am lying directly beside the sleeping Ragnar, my gun pointed straight at the door.

Floofy must also hear the noises because it comes to sit on my lap, snuggling into my body as if to seek shelter from certain doom on the other side of the door. If they are even half the size of Ragnar, then we are screwed. No flimsy store wall can keep them out if they have half a mind to get in.

As for the monster in the room, Ragnar sleeps fitfully. So much so that I am afraid that the monsters outside will hear him and come to investigate. I shush him as best I can, but every heartfelt whisper of my name breaks me down until I can do nothing but try to comfort him through his fits. My touch helps the most and finally I lay my hands upon his back and pet him until the skin there is raw and bleeding from the scrape of his scales.

I can’t find it in me to care about the pain. I simply wrap them and keep petting, praying that he awakens soon. Not the fevered ramblings of before, but truly wakes up and stares at me with those unfathomably deep eyes. At this point I even consider promising to be his wife if that means that he wakes up. At one point I considered whispering that into his ear just to see if it would work. I chicken out though, afraid that it might just do the trick and then I’d be left to fulfill that bargain.

Thankfully I do not have to do anything that drastic. The change that comes upon Ragnar is fast. One minute he is burning up to the touch, his wound leaking the icky yellow venom and the next the heat leaves his body in a rush and his wounds begin to heal. Startled at the abrupt change in temperature, I scoot back and watch his face for any signs of life.

A crash in the next room makes me flinch but I do not stop staring. Silent prayers play through my mind as I watch him for any other signs that he might be getting better. An hour or two must pass, yet my eyes never leave his sleeping form. One moment I am staring at his sleeping face and the next I am flung onto my back, his massive body hovering over my own, pining me to the concrete. His intense gaze seems to hold me captive as he rakes it over me from head to toe.

“Regreee safe.” He murmurs, my name sounding like a forbidden caress upon his alien lips. His voice is rougher and deeper than before. Tensing, I let him look me over, sensing the danger that lurks behind his worry.

Growing up I was convinced I could make any predator my passive little pet. No matter how dangerous the animal, I wanted to try. Ragnar is no animal, but I feel the rush of skirting that danger once more. His closeness is an unexpected aphrodisiac with the danger he presents. It is an odd combination when mixed with my unfailing sense of safety. Of rightness.

“Ragnar safe.” I mutter back, rendered senseless by the warring emotions that are running hot and cold through my veins. His gaze is wild, so unlike the Ragnar I know and yet I can tell he is there as well. Leaning forward, he sticks his snout against my neck, breathing me in before trailing down and over my shoulder and to my belly. Squirming I try to escape the odd onslaught, but his massive forearm comes down across my hips, holding me in place as he continues.

His scales are rough, but it sends a shiver through me as they glide across my skin. An alarmed squeak escapes when he crosses over my core even though he doesn’t stop there, continuing down my body and then back up until he rests at my neck. Taking a deep breath, he breathes me in once more before speaking in his broken English.

“Regreee safe. No wounds.” He says in a sigh, as if that alone calms the battle inside of himself. Expecting him to rise away from me now that he has confirmed I’m okay, I am shaken when he flops to the side of me. He keeps his snout against the skin of my throat but draws me into his embrace until I am cocooned safely in the tangle of his limbs.

It occurs to me that I should fight. Not that it would do any good if I’m honest with myself, I am exhausted. I’ve kept vigilance over him for what felt like an eternity, worrying over his health. Now that I am not responsible for our lives, I let myself relax into his arms. Just for now, I can accept his comfort. All the fight inside of me leaves with a sigh of contentment and I wrap my arms around his middle, holding him tight against me.

“Reggie is happy that Ragnar is awake. That Ragnar is okay.” I say on a yawn, taking rest where I can, lulled to sleep by his warmth and a vibration that loosens all my muscles and makes my belly clench hotly. Not even misplaced desire can keep my eyes open, and I am soon asleep.

My nap is light and fitful but when I wake up some time later, I am thankful to have gotten at least a little bit. Groaning I go to stretch and the reality of my position hits me like a ton of brick. Tensing in Ragnar’s arms I tentatively open my eyes to find him staring down at me, a look that can only be described as utter devotion in his gaze.

We sit there for a moment, staring at one another in complete silence before the reality of our situation intrudes upon the building tension. Something has shifted, changed. We are not what we were before. I can’t label it, but it is there all the same.

With an angry huff, Floofy hops onto my legs. The beast’s snuffs get more aggressive when I do not react until Ragnar leans down to shoo him away. Unperturbed, Floofy winds his way between us until I can see his large, expressive eyes. They plead with me in a way that I have come to recognize as hunger. It eats more than a small army I swear.

“It is hungry.” I groan out, the spell between us broken. Rolling his slitted eyes, Ragnar climbs to his feet, the play of muscles across his body is both comforting and mesmerizing. Testing his strength, he stands and stretches back and forth. There are no signs of his wounds, only an unbroken expanse of obsidian scales.

“He is hungry.” Ragnar mumbles back, glaring down at the obnoxious chinchilla from hell as he corrects me. His words startle me out of my ogling session. My face flushes bright red with embarrassment. Something has changed alright. I’m becoming the potential monster fucker that Bethany always wanted me to be. I’m in serious trouble if muscles covered in scales are getting me hot and bothered. Casting a glance upwards I see that Ragnar’s full attention is on Floofy who is doing a hilarious spin move on the floor in excitement.

Curiosity peaked, I quickly glanced down at his body again. He truly is beautiful in his own alien way. Though he isn’t exactly humanoid, there is a symmetry and grace to his form that I would be lying if I said wasn’t intriguing. My stomach does a flip, calling me a liar anyways. I find it more than intriguing. When he was sick, I realized how important he has become to me and that helped to push away some of my reticence at him being an alien.

Honestly? Who the fuck cares. Our world has gone to shit. If the worst thing that happens to me is that I find peace again in the arms of an alien, then so be it. It is an oddly comforting thought now that I have had it. He is an alien male, but now that my inhibitions have been put on the back burner, I am able to see that in such a short time he has brought out feelings inside of me that I thought were dead. I haven’t felt attraction since the day I was raped.

Just thinking the word threatens to sour my mood, but it is high time I quit hiding from the truth inside of me. I’ve done that for over five long years. It took one elephant sized male for me to see that the lie I’ve been living is easily shattered. It is easy to convince yourself you are strong and capable when you are hiding. I’ve been hiding far longer than I’ve lived in the damn underground bunker and I am so tired of hiding. I still can’t promise Ragnar that I can be his alien wife, but the idea doesn’t frighten or disgust me any longer.

Now that I am telling myself the truth, I can recognize that it hasn’t ever disgusted me. I just reacted the way others thought I should. I’m still living in the shadows and expectations of a civilization that has died. I refuse to die right along with it. This is After Earth, and I am Reggie. I will persevere and will make sure my siblings do too. With Ragnar’s help I intend to conquer my inner and outer demons.

A shudder shakes me. My inner demons are far more frightening than the ones that are outside the door. Those can be killed. The ones inside are resilient and that scares me far more than fangs and claws. A vibration from Ragnar brings me back to the present and I smile up at him when he casts me a concerned look.

Taking his offered hand, I see his shock register that I am allowing more touch. I want to explain to him all of my epiphanies, but I’m not sure I can say them in a way that he would understand. What if his species doesn’t deal with mental health and he will only see me as a mad woman. Not today. Maybe one of these days. As it is, we need to get moving. There are no more growls and groans coming from the main part of the store, we need to go while it is quiet.

“We can’t stay here forever.” I say, watching to see if he understands. A flash of appreciation fills me when he nods his agreement.

“Naga covered scent. Not forever.” He replies, piecing together more words. Some new things that I know I haven’t said to him before, but he is a quick learner. Who knows? Maybe within a week a full sentence will be possible. As it is, I understand his point. Eventually the scent of the snake man’s blood will not be able to hide us. That leaves us at the mercy of whichever monster finds us first.

“We need to find medicine first and then we can leave town altogether. I hate it here and do not want to stay any longer than necessary.” I know my words test his limited knowledge, but he follows along, only taking a few moments to formulate a response. For a second, I wonder at how he can understand me. Something alien must be at play. Maybe a translator?

“Sister is important. Safe. Medicine heals. Ragnar check.” Though his words are broken it makes my heart happy to be able to understand each other better already. It also makes me giddy that he understands my mission isn’t an option and isn’t trying to change my mind. Whispers of doubt fill me though, and when he turns to the door I catch his arm. He turns back to me, a question in his eyes.

“Ragnar stays? You won’t leave me?” I ask, letting my vulnerability color my words. It feels like I have cracked my chest wide open, admitting a weakness to another person. Despite his otherworldly appearance, he is a person all the same. I can’t do this without him. Anger flashes on his face before I find myself lifted off my feet and slammed into the nearest wall.

Ragnar consumes the space around me until there is nothing but him and his ice blue eyes. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of me and I can only stare into his intensity, face it head on. Fear is absent from me. The feelings swirling inside of me are the furthest thing from fear as he leans close enough that his unique scent envelopes me, consumes me. I am caught up in his spell as surely as I am trapped between his body and the wall. The two temperatures are extreme, his heat at my front and the cool concrete at my back.

What little air remains comes out in a rush when he leans forward until his snout is flush with my ear. Little shivers wrack my body in reaction to the maelstrom of sensations kaleidoscoping through me in rapid succession. Lust, fear, intense pressure in my chest and a fluttering of butterflies in my belly. What was overwhelming from the start skyrockets into a new orbit when he speaks.

“Ragnar and Regreee forever. Never leave. Never hurt. Always protect. Always stand behind you. You are mine.” His words whisper down my spine until I want to melt into a puddle at his feet. As if he knows the effect he has on me, Ragnar lets me down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes a step back. Once he sees I am steady on my feet he turns to the door and quickly exits. The moment it clicks shut, I collapse to the floor and stare dumbly at where he disappeared. My mind is in a jumble but that simple phrase plays like a broken record in my mind. You are mine.