Chapter Seven

 

Savich set the bowl he’d woven out of green branches on the stone floor. He had collected an assortment of the season’s last berries and found some mushrooms as well. She would be hungry. When he looked into the cave, he saw that she was awake, once again staring at him. In the daylight, he could see that her eyes were a jewel green. He still couldn’t make out much of her features or even hair color. She needed to bathe. Nevertheless, the jolt of desire that shot through his senses was unmistakable, and he hoped she hadn’t seen it. Otherwise, she would fear him again.

He lowered his eyes and bent to pick up the bowl again. He placed it before her and offered a hand. Raising his eyes to meet hers again, he controlled his primal reaction with super-Krinar effort. He hadn’t been with a woman in three quarters of a millennium, after all.

She took his hand and sat up slowly. He offered her the bowl. He remembered to use English this time. “Eat. If you’re still hungry after, I’ll harvest more.”

She shot him a look. Was that surprise? Fear?

He looked down again, fearful the desire that kept flaring in his chest would begin to manifest even lower. This girl would be afraid of men for the rest of her life. She didn’t need him lusting after her. Besides, she really did need to be cleaned up.

She took the bowl and began to eat, scooping the berries with one small hand. He couldn’t help but notice the dirt under her nails and etched into her knuckles and scrapes. He was an idiot. She needed to be cleaned. He took a breath. One thing at a time. She had no meat on her bones. From what he’d seen last night, her breasts were small, but now seeing her height, it was more like they were depleted. She may not even be a girl, but a woman.

“How old are you?”

She swallowed her bite and looked at his face. “24.” Her voice rasped.

He felt his own face pale. She weighed no more than 40 kilograms or so. Barely ninety earth pounds. How long had they starved her? And why? And her voice…rough from screaming? Or from being strangled almost to death?

The desire that kept haunting him faded away, morphing into something else. What was that familiar boil? Anger. No, rage. It was so fierce and hot that he jumped up and left the cave. He needed air, and he needed to be away from her and her wounds for a moment. He would fetch water.

Damn, he needed to let go of his fucking pride and use the technology. He took several gulps of the clear air and turned back to the cave. He nearly stumbled at the sight of her standing just outside the lip, holding the little bowl out to him.

“Thank you. Did I do something wrong?”

Her lip fucking quivered.

“No,” he growled out, then clamped his mouth shut. He wiped his hand down his face. “I’m filled with rage at your captors.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Okay.”

Then he stalked off into the woods. He just needed one more minute to calm himself. He was afraid he would rip a pine tree out of the ground by its roots and hurl it. That could draw attention to their location. He would put the fire out now too, though he had scouted a large radius. There was no sign of the men. Lucky for them. He would happily rip their throats out by hand, while they watched. Maybe shove their testicles down their throats along with an eyeball. He quelled the roar that was about to erupt out of his mouth. She needed him calm now.

He returned to the cave where she sat inside, hugging the pillow to her chest. It stopped his rage cold. She was so small and breakable. He took a long branch and spread out the coals, then scooped up dirt to put it out. She watched every movement he made.

“I’m putting out the fire, so no one sees or smells smoke.” He looked up at her. She nodded. “You know I am Krinar?” She nodded again. “Good. I have technology to use now. I was afraid it would scare you before.”

She shrugged but didn’t say anything else. He felt relief. He stepped around the coals and pointed his device at a cave wall. They watched together while the nanobots did their magic, building up walls and shapes and contours.

“This will be a bathing room for you. The nanobots will extract water from the air and even up through the rock so you can wash.” He watched her face for any reactions, but she looked at him with complete trust. “Come out when you’re clean and I will use a medical device to heal your wounds.”

She limped into the white-colored “room” that jutted out from the cave wall, and he slumped against another wall. He had forgotten all about his mission for Kumar. Resistance? What Resistance? He knew of men he wanted to hunt and kill for sport.

He should send word to Kumar about the girl he found, but he didn’t want to yet. He wanted to keep her for himself.

Where did that thought come from? She didn’t belong to him. Twenty-four years old was old enough in Earth years that she could be married. She could have a child. He would ask her. Later.

He walked back out of the cave and scaled the rocks. He had to keep an eye out. If she was such a prize, she would be hunted. And if they found her, they would find him. That feral smile he gave Kumar only days ago slowly spread across his face. He would happily give them exactly what they deserved. Still seeing no signs of anyone, he returned to the cave.

She stood outside the room with the tunic clutched to her chest.

“I didn’t want to put it back on,” she said and looked down. “I got it dirty.”

Savich ground his teeth. Her shame was as thick as the dirt that had covered her pale skin. Now he could see every inch of her skin. She was very fair, with a smattering of darker spots across her nose, her collar bones, and the backs of her hands. He didn’t know the word to describe it, but he imagined kissing them all. Before his blood could pool in his cock, he diverted his thoughts.

“Where are you hurt?” Then he wanted to stab himself in the eye. Where wasn’t she hurt? She was covered from head to toe in bruises and lacerations. He cleared his throat. “Never mind.”

He strode toward her, feeling pleased that she didn’t step away, even though his approach was purposeful and fast. He pulled the slender rectangle out of a pocket in his trousers. “This will begin the healing process.” He guided her to sit back where she had slept the night before. His eyes grazed over the shape of her buttocks and thighs as she gingerly sat on the pillow.

He shone the red light starting at her scalp. He gently pushed his large fingers into her hair and felt around her skull. As he suspected, there was a large bump. He ran the light over it. “How long were you—there?” He asked, then he paid attention to each scratch on her face. The card lingered over the huge purple bruise on her cheek. One of those—scabikas had punched her.

“Probably a month,” she whispered, her breath tickling his cheek. “Several weeks, at least.”

He didn’t respond, merely nodded and passed the device over her earlobe. Perhaps an earring had been ripped out, he guessed. “Who kept you prisoner?” He could smell her wariness. It made him careful.

“Three huge men. I never met them before.”

He watched the bruising on her forehead turn from purple to white with satisfaction. His eyes lowered to her cracked and bleeding lips.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered. He saw her pupils dilate in fear. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, but he refrained. “Please.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded and complied.

Compassion twisted his gut.

The card didn’t fit, but he could shine the light on her gums. He would have to use the other, the cylinder one. Stars but he was a sick fuck, when the thought of that got him hard. The healing process took a little time, but he was never more thankful for Krinar technology than he was at this moment. He paused considering his pride on Kavelt.

Kumar wouldn’t have let him suffer on that savage planet. He gave him all the technology he would need to live comfortably, but Savich had never once used it. Not even when that fucking reptile almost bit him in half. Why was he such a hateful Krinar?

Savich listened to the woman’s breathing as he continued to slowly run the card over her wounds.

Her neck had fingerprints.

Her breasts had bite marks.

He was so proud of her for holding the tunic away so that he could tend her wounds. How must she feel? Ashamed? Humiliated? He couldn’t hold back the emotion in his voice when he spoke. “I am so proud of you right now.” He swallowed. “You are the bravest woman I know.”

She choked back a sob.

He slid the light across her ribs that were bruised and gently guided her to turn so he could administer to her back. Cuts, slices, scrapes. He passed the nanomedics across each and every one. She had scars that wouldn’t disappear. Like him, she had old wounds.

Bastards.

He finished her back and hips. More handprints.

Then he began at her feet. The soles were cut up. He darted his eyes to hers. “You ran from them. In bare feet.”

She met his gaze. “Five times.”

He looked at her mouth, once chapped and bloody and split, now perfectly plump as she ran her tongue over them.

His voice came out husky. “My brave girl.”

She averted her eyes.

He spent time on the ankle that had been chained. Black and blue, scraped and chafed. With no fat on her bones, every impact would have hurt three times as much. He passed the card over her knees, both scabbed and bruised. She chuckled.

He couldn’t have been more surprised. “What?”

“I know this is weird, but my knees.”

He raised his brows at her.

She pointed to her knees with one hand; her other one held the dirty tunic over her private parts. “My knees. They look like I’m five again. I used to always have scabby knees when I was a kid.”

Savich sat back, astounded.

She sighed, and let a tear run down her face. “I said it was weird. But hey,” she said with a gaspy little laugh. “At least it made me smile, right?”

Savich wanted to kiss her in that moment. He wanted it so bad he almost snapped the medical card with his hand. He breathed in through his nose and looked past her at the cave wall. Do not look at her smile. Do not look at her lips, or her high cheekbones, or her light brown brows, or those slightly darker spots or her thick blonde hair, and most definitely do not look into her jade green eyes.

“I also had scabbed knees when I was five.” He ran the card up her thighs. Multiple hand prints. He once removed the spine out of a grasping eight-eyed sea creature while it still lived. It was the most disgusting thing he’d ever witnessed, but the creature was going to kill him if he didn’t kill it first. But the handprints on her thighs made him want to vomit.

He heard her breathing quicken. Shallow breaths. He looked up at her eyes. They were threatening to roll back into her head.

“Woman,” he whispered and pulled the card away. “Look at me.”

She took a breath and forced her eyes to meet his.

“I have a medicine that will make you sleep. Do you want to use it?”

She stared at him for the longest time. Then she shook her head no.

Savich sat on the stone floor and placed the card beside him. He looked at her wan face.

“I am going to check the perimeter again. Lie down, and when I come back, we will finish.” Savich wanted to touch her hand, her arm. Instead he touched her hair. She was squeezing her eyes shut. “Tell me if you want the medicine.” He didn’t move until she nodded. Then he stood up and left the cave once more.

He walked a fair distance away, and then punched his hand into a boulder. It cracked beneath his fist. He ran the perimeter, satisfied they were still undetected, and returned to the cave.

She had done as he asked, and now lay on her back, her head resting on the pillow.

Klapkovic! He pulled out another device and pressed the button. A white sheet appeared to weave itself out of thin air. He heard her breathing, a forced slowness, but her eyes were closed.

“I made you a sheet,” he said and swallowed. “Cover yourself.”

“Thank you,” she choked out. “Could I at least know your name? Before you, you…”

Double klapkovic!

“I am Savich.”

“Savage?” Her breath caught.

“Sav-itch.” He replied. “A hard aitch sound.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“And your name?”

“T-tabitha. But my f-friends call me T-tabby.” She gave a short, tear-filled, laugh. “Like the cat.”

“You have a beautiful name,” he said. He was grateful her eyes were still shut. She wouldn’t see the raging hard-on he now sported under his trousers. “I have a second medical device. I’m sorry, but it will fit—inside you. I must put it inside to heal the inner wounds.” He waited for her reaction.

He waited a long time.

“I wanted to be brave,” she whispered. “But I can’t. Please let me sleep.”

How many times could a Krinar’s heart break in two? He gave her the anesthetic. She held his hand and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Krinar frowned, then wanted to kick himself when he saw the crease between her eyes deepen. But then she slept.

He used his gentlest touch to pry her mouth open. The cylindrical wand could reach much better into her mouth. He healed the loose teeth. The bruising at the back of her throat. He was going to torture them. Tear their fingers off one by one. Rip off their cocks and feed them to the wolves. He breathed in through his mouth.

Her head flopped to the side, almost falling off the pillow. She loved that damn pillow, he realized. He would make her a thousand of the stupid things.

He centered her head on the pillow with gentle hands, then spread the sheet over her. He swallowed as he lifted the sheet to past her waist and moved her legs to tend to the wounds between her thighs. His vision clouded with red.

He leaned back on his haunches and inhaled deeply to calm his racing heart, but the scent of her flooded his nostrils and filled him with lust. Never before had he been so powerfully affected by the smell of a woman.

He gritted his teeth as he opened his eyes. All he had to do to drown the sexual desire was to look at her injuries. If she had planned on having children, it was probably no longer possible.

Unbridled profanity flowed over his tongue as he used the flat device first for the outside wounds to her inner groin and lips. Then he inserted the wand, pleased to see the inflamed tissue gradually revert to it’s normal size. He suspected he should take it deeper but cringed at the thought of what her internal injuries must look like. Taking a deep breath, he slid it farther and let it send the countless nanobots to repair tissue damage.

It took a long time.

The device let out a small chirp when it was completed, and Savich pocketed both medical items. He realized sweat had poured down the center of his back and coated his forehead and neck. Savage he might be, but he had held his desire in check. He replaced the sheet and began “making” Tabitha a set of clothes out of a pile of brush. The nanobots would transform the matter into a suitable fabric. He also made her another pillow.

With a last glance at her peaceful form, and the powder-soft rise and fall of her small breasts, he set up a small forcefield at the entrance of the cave and retired to the bathing room. He needed to recover.