Page 5 of The Naga Scavenger’s Precious Mate

The snout pushed closer, rubbing with a cool wet nose along my cheek, and that was followed by soft lips, gently nibbling. It didn’t hurt, and then that snout pulled back far enough for me to see the creature it belonged to. Still black and white, in stripes that reminded me of a European badger. Only this creature was about as big as a small dog, a chihuahua maybe, and had quills on its rump like a porcupine.

It sat back on its haunches and a plump, round belly was exposed while it raised its front paws and started rubbing its face. The washing motion was just like a bunny might do, and my heart instantly melted at how cute it looked.

Then reality hit me hard. That was not an Earth creature, I was pretty sure about that. It might look a bit like a cross between a badger and a porcupine, but enough parts of it were just different. Like the six sharp claws on each paw, or the bristly whiskers that were silver at the tips. I wasn’t on Earth in some random hookup’s bizarre bedroom, which was oddly enough, kind of a relief.

Had I really been in a stasis pod? I had this vague recollection of a green face with glowing emerald eyes. When I tried hard, I recalled the intense cold that had filled me and even a few disjointed thoughts and memories; dreams maybe. What had happened to me?

I tried to sit up but my body failed me. Everything ached, my stomach felt like a giant hollow, and now that I was aware of it, intense thirst assailed me. With a herculean effort, I dragged myself into a half-upright position and evaluated my options. Someone had found me and brought me into this room, it was warm, and I was lying on a thick stack of incredibly soft furs.

Then, movement drew my eye further down the room and I muffled a shocked gasp that wanted to escape. There were cages, and then more rows of shelves beyond them, which led into a deep, unsettling darkness. Inside those cages were several animals; each more alien than the next. They weren’t all small like that badger thing either, who was still washing itself right next to me; completely at ease.

I saw something that resembled a gazelle but with a deep purple pelt, it was lying in a pen with bandages wrapped around a splinted leg. A cage next to it held a whole nest of squirming pink things with hints of darker stripes like shadows along their wriggly bodies. A purple dragon-like thing the size of a canary sat in another cage with a bandaged wing and a soft, mournful expression.

I was starting to think that whoever had brought me here, had done so because they just collected stray, injured animals. They must have thought I was just another creature to nurture back to health. I wasn’t offended by that, grateful rather, since I much preferred being alive over being dead. I just wished they had left a bottle of water for me, or some food…

When I glanced around again to see if there was anything in reach like that, my eyes fell on the glint of something shiny at the edge of the furs. There was a splash of color too, a beautiful bright yellow flower lying in such a way that it was clearly put there for me to look at. The shiny thing looked like it might be a strand of twisted copper, artfully braided together to make a pretty, pleated bracelet. Both those things were lovely, but I still would have rather had water. Did those two items mean that my caretaker knew I was more than just another animal? I was too tired to really think about it.

Just looking around and sitting upright had drained me of nearly all my energy, and helplessly, I was forced to sink back down against the soft furs. As soon as I did, the badger creature next to me stopped its washing and scooted closer, sprawling shamelessly on his side against my hip. Definitely a he, I could see that now; the position really was shameless. It was also comforting to lay there with the soft warm, weight of the animal pressed against me. I wasn’t alone, and whoever owned this pet, they’d be back.

As if my thoughts summoned him, I became aware of a shape hovering in the one doorway to the room. I craned my head to try and see him, certain that like his pet, that shape was male. The firelight danced over his green scales, that was the first thing I saw when I managed to turn my head enough to get a good look.

Green scales everywhere, covering endless loops of a huge, serpentine body. It would have been entirely logical if I’d been struck with deep, atavistic fear at that moment. That’s not what raced through my body at the sight of that huge snake-like shape. My flesh broke out in a million goosebumps, my nipples perked, and a warmth fluttered through my chest.

He wasn’t all snake, his upper half was that of a man. A man with huge shoulders and a narrow waist, like a swimmer. His chest was ripped with muscle, from impressive pectorals to no less than eight distinct abdominal bumps. His biceps were thick, his forearms veined, and his hands tipped with shiny razor-sharp claws.

It was his face that struck me though, that was the part of him that had me flushing with these strange sensations. Inappropriate sensations for a thirty-six-year-old, firmly established bachelorette. I’d given up on ever finding the right guy a while ago, too tired to bother with dating, but all those feelings were suddenly roaring to the forefront.

It was him, the face I’d seen when I was in the stasis pod. Handsome, otherworldly, and alien. His eyes were glowing emeralds, his hair a deep blue-green that draped in long luscious locks around his wide shoulders. His cheekbones were sharp and dusted with the faintest hint of yellow, while his brows were these bony, spiked ridges. On his chin sat a bone white horn that jutted down and slightly forward.

He carried a satchel made of a woven net, a knife strapped to each forearm, and another in a sheath on his hip. In one hand, he was holding a huge metal trident, from his other dangled several purple fish from a string. My stomach gurgled hungrily at the sight of that food, even raw, foreign, and not yet filleted. “Hi,” I sighed at him.

He sprung into action at the noise I made, some kind of words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession. Too bad it just sounded like hissing and growling to me, deep throaty sounds that I couldn’t possibly hope to mimic. I tried hard to ignore the heavy feeling of disappointment that settled over me like a shroud. So what if we couldn’t talk, there were other ways to communicate.

I did not even need to tell him that I was thirsty and hungry. He raced for my side, his strange, serpentine body coiling around the fire. His trident clattered carelessly to the floor along the way, completely forgotten. He pressed a waterskin to my lips when he reached me, still talking rapidly, his eyes glowing eagerly.

It was a struggle to sip from the leather skin without dribbling water everywhere. I was too weak to properly raise my head for a good drinking position. It was embarrassing to be this uncoordinated and disheveled around someone so ethereal and pretty. He pushed against the furs beneath my head, helping me to a more upright position, and more cool, fresh water filled my dry mouth and soothed my parched throat.

Far too soon, he pulled the waterskin away from me. When I made a noise of protest he shook his head firmly and rattled off more hissing noises. He was telling me no. I hated it, but when he held up something that looked very much like beef jerky, I forgot all about wanting more water. Yes! Food!

It was salty but flavorful, a little tough to chew but I hardly cared. I was so hungry, and so weak, that I knew I had been out cold for far too long. I was lucky I was any kind of coherent at all right now. After just a few bites, it became too difficult to chew the tough food. I sighed sadly when he pressed another piece to my lips, I did want to eat, but it was so much effort. Sleep was already pulling on me again, threatening to pull me under.

He rumbled, a discontented sound that I understood, even if I couldn’t figure out the actual words. His hand dropped away from my mouth, his fingers briefly brushing along my chin as he did so. A glow spread along his scales in a flash, there and then gone again. I blinked my eyes tiredly, certain I had imagined it.

Drowsy and exhausted, and also still thirsty, I helplessly watched through hooded lids as my handsome, alien caretaker got to work. He was filleting his fish and putting them into a metal pot hanging from a tripod over the fire. Water and a handful of some kind of grains went in as well, and then he started picking herbs from his impressive collection dangling from hooks from the ceiling.

It smelled incredible, but my stomach clenched at the thought of eating more. Those three bites had already made me feel full; the savory, salty flavor still clinging to my tongue. He turned back to me once the fish stew was cooking, holding up the waterskin again. I was grateful for the few more sips he allowed me to drink, and after that, so tired that sleep claimed me.

***

Zeidon

For the shining moments that my mate was awake, my heart had sung a wild rhythm in my chest. Her eyes were blue, blue like sapphires. She was weak, and I worried about giving her too much water or food all at once, fearing it could make her sick. I should have been better prepared, the dried meat was too tough for her to chew, but the fish stew would fill her once she woke again.

“You like her, huh? Srazz?” I asked the Ayala nestled against her hip. He lifted his head from his lazy nap to blink his eyes at me, then he twisted just enough to settle his head on top of her. Chortling gleefully at me like he was mocking me for being so far away, on the other side of the fire. If I could, I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat. I bared my fangs at him and growled a possessive warning, which he promptly ignored.

I sighed, my happiness fading the longer it took for her to wake a second time. I did not dare leave the cave, afraid I’d miss it. I busied myself with my other guests in the meantime. Feeding the Arazal with its broken leg and checking on the stag’s bandages while I was at it. I fed the nest of baby Ayala, still without quills or their distinct black and white stripes, with a boiled and cooled mash of nuts and berries.

The little purple Sleara was purring in my lap not much later while I stretched his injured wing and carefully inspected it. My mate blinked open her eyes slowly, her gaze instantly flying to my eyes. A soft smile slipped onto her face, and her eyes twinkled. I didn’t know eyes could do that, but I loved it. Freezing in place, I just stared, caught up in how pretty she was when she was awake.