VulcansWoman Page 2
“My name is Vulcan.”
“Vulcan, I must get back.”
“What clan are you from?”
She clenched her hands into fists at her waistline. Not that she was strong enough to defend herself against this huge man if she had to. “The gentlest of clans. The Peace Seekers.”
How could she leave without walking past him to the water’s stepping-stones? The distance between their bodies was already too short—no farther than an arm’s length. Also the forest behind them was too thick to breach if she ran in that direction. She wouldn’t make it through the thorny bushes and heavy tree limbs without shredding her skin, which had already taken a beating when she’d run in fear from the predator in the sky.
Inhaling deeply, she stiffened, lowered her gaze toward the ground and started taking cautious steps to the lake. Short, cautious steps that soon turned into a limp because the bottom of her foot throbbed and burned. She almost made it to the water’s edge when he placed a hand on her shoulder, halting her getaway.
Her heart lurched and she squeaked. Hoping he hadn’t identified her fright, she browsed the embankment for a big rock.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding.
She couldn’t find her voice and instinctively looked at her feet.
“Here,” he added, stepping closer, pointing at her leg.
She peeked from the corner of her eye and saw a long scrape on her thigh from the log. She hadn’t realized it’d cut her enough to bleed when she’d fallen.
Time stood still as he squatted beside her and licked the pad of his thumb.
What is he going to do? Reluctantly she took a step forward, preparing to dash across the lake. Just then his thumb brushed along the outside of her thigh and he removed the blood. Her knees buckled. Heat nestled around the leftover saliva on her flesh. The center of her thighs grew tingly and moisture seeped onto the lining of her lower garment. What’s happening?
During her twenty-one seasonal cycles of life she’d never been touched by a man in this manner. Nor had she known such a touch could provoke so much internal warmth. It was as if her insides were bathing in the sun. What an alarming yet exciting sensation. Despite her fear she no longer felt threatened, nor could she mistake the pleasurable feelings fluttering up and down her spine.
Her gaze shot to his and locked. For a tribesman he was gentle-handed and incredibly handsome. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline defined his features. His hair hung past his upper arms and was straight and smooth, much like hers. Based on the similar maturity he shared with her brother Boar, she guessed he’d lived through at least twenty-seven harvests. She gasped as his intense gaze locked on hers as he agilely stood.
She lifted her chin to follow his narrowed eyes when he straightened to full height. He was so close, within mere inches. His breath caressed her face, chasing away the remainder of her fear.
A thunderous boom echoed in the distance. Another followed. Then another. The trees rustled and the ground shook. Startled, she lost footing and tilted sideways.
She instinctively grabbed his hand to regain her balance as the rumbles vibrated inside her chest. He yanked her close to his body so fast she didn’t notice his arms had wrapped around her until they locked tightly at her waist. With her cheek nuzzled against his bulging pec muscles she felt the vibrations inside his chest as well.
His flesh smelled good. Odd yet calming. Unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The scent was similar to freshly chopped wood but not as potent, along with the aroma of pine-tree needles. She inhaled deeply while weaving her hands behind his back. The muscles around his lower spine strained and flexed as he peered over her head.
Another rumble shook the ground. He tightened his hold and glanced off into the distance. When the vibrations beneath her feet faded he loosened his grip enough to allow her to breathe easier but he didn’t release her from his embrace. It was a possessive gesture she’d witnessed many men in her clan utilize with their mates. “What was that?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“I’m not sure.”
She watched his lips closely as he spoke and for a brief moment she imagined them lowering to hers for a kiss.
The intriguing vision was quickly replaced by a depiction of her future. A future filled with Sledge untying her garments and throwing her to the ground to plant his repulsive seed inside her womb.
She shivered with dread and blinked to banish the vision.
Daddy, how could you do this to me?
Was that why she wished this tribesman would kiss her? To satisfy her curiosity because she might never have another opportunity to kiss a man she was attracted to? Oh how she wanted this. He’d stirred something inside she couldn’t explain. Mingling intimately with someone from a different clan was taboo but she couldn’t dismiss the sensations reeling inside her body.
She held her breath as his face slowly descended toward hers. Her palms sweated and her belly spun. If any of her clansmen witnessed this she would receive punishment, perhaps get pummeled with stones. It was as if her feet were frozen. She couldn’t back away. Nor did she want to, regardless of the cost. The thought of mating with Sledge every night made it worth the risk. She’d watched her mom and dad share kisses and she always wondered how it would be to taste a man’s lips. Until now she hadn’t found a man she wanted to experiment with.
A strange craving blossomed in her tummy. Her breath caught and her heartbeat pattered her breast. And just when their lips were about to touch he stepped back, holding her at an arm’s length. “You should return to your clan,” he said, releasing her shoulders.
She lowered her gaze as heat rushed to her cheeks. Had he sensed she’d wanted a kiss? “Where will you go?”
“To gather my tribe and find what’s causing the quakes.”
Unexpectedly he lifted her off her feet and cradled her in his arms. She gasped at the quick maneuver and threw her arms around his neck. “I can cross the lake myself.”
“The wound on the bottom of your foot is causing you pain. Let me assist you,” he said, stepping into the shallow water.
It deepened no farther than his hips but it was high enough that the fur on her bottom garment grazed the cool surface. She tightened her hands around his neck to prevent slipping from his grip.
Once on the other side he gently set her on her feet in the grass. He then squatted and removed his moccasins. His large fingers encircled her entire ankle as he lifted her feet one at a time and slid them inside the cold, wet leather. The heat radiating from his hand along her leg was almost too much to bear. She shivered and swooned and grabbed his shoulder for balance. He stiffened.
She looked down and smiled. The moccasins were too big but rather than complain or give them back she slid her toes to the tips. “Thank you.”
After adjusting the strings he locked his eyes on hers and stood. Palming her shoulders, he turned her to face the forest. “Go,” he whispered in her ear after moving her hair aside. “And never return here alone.”
She closed her eyes to harbor the final moments of his soothing, warm breath. It caressed her neck and slithered to her breasts in a cloud of comfort. “When will I see you again, Vulcan?” she asked but when she turned around he was gone.
Chapter Two
Vulcan remained tucked inside the forest, following Wisteria as she strode down the path. He left enough distance between them to prevent being seen but he also stayed close enough so as not to lose sight of her. Those quakes disturbed him. A lot. Despite an episode of rumbles a few days ago, he hadn’t encountered anything of that magnitude during the entire two years he’d been on this primitive planet, Helixis.
By orders of the government he’d been put in charge of the Special Forces and left modern civilization to document life on this world. They named the mission Strategic Wilderness Green. The purpose—observe the people and environment and disengage any threats. Threats? What type of a situation were Vulcan and his unit thrown into?
Despite living on a planet fitting the description of the Stone Age, she physically resembled a modern female. She had full breasts, curves in the right places and a normal vocabulary. Numerous tribes resided on Helixis, each abiding by their own customs. Despite living off the land, they weren’t as primitive as one might have believed. It was as if these people were stuck somewhere in between prehistoric times and modern-day Earth.
He backed off a little farther when she stopped and bent down beside a tree. The way she’d squatted and moved her hands indicated she observed something. Damn, she sent fire through his veins. Was it her raw, native background? Her naivety? Sensual aura? Hell, it could’ve been a combination of all three.
Why hadn’t he kissed her when the opportunity presented itself? If he’d read her correctly she’d wanted it as badly as he had. Damn his reservations for kicking in at the last minute. Sometimes acting respectable produced the wrong choice. In this circumstance it had. Ah, he wished he would’ve tasted her lips at least once to appease his lust. He’d dreamt of doing it often enough.
This was undeniably the strangest assignment he’d undergone. Prior to leaving Earth, his unit strength-trained, mastered battle techniques and endured numerous torture methods to adapt. The government stated it was to prepare them for capture. Capture? Capture from what? That was one intense word.
The unit was instructed to enact their lives as primitively as possible but they hadn’t arrived unarmed. They brought modern artillery, which they kept hidden in crates and in underground shelters. Obviously the government neglected to disclose some important information, like the real reasons they were shuttled here. One day, and soon, he’d pry it out of Tyran, the scientist of the team. If the mission constituted only documentation, why the hell had they sent brainy Tyran?
Although lacking the comforts of home, they’d adjusted well to the environment. Vulcan even grew immune to the loincloth chafing his balls. He didn’t mind sleeping in huts or surviving off the land but he occasionally missed taking hot showers and drinking a beer.
Despite those materialistic things, he loved the freedom of the wilderness, the lifestyle and the adrenaline rush of a good hunt.
Not even a week into their arrival they crossed paths with a primal tribe. Their chief challenged the leader of Vulcan’s unit, who just happened to be him. He didn’t know whether it was a test or a power struggle but the burly son of a bitch nearly beat his ass, until Vulcan realized they were fighting to the death.
Relying on his survival training, Vulcan wrestled him to the ground, not an easy feat, and after Vulcan endured numerous strangleholds and head slams into the ground he caught a lucky break and snapped the lug’s neck. The reigning title was handed to Vulcan, his unit was accepted into the tribe and he was put in charge.
Nearly eight months ago a band of unidentified reptiles invaded the territory and killed numerous tribal members and two of Vulcan’s men. Like chameleons, the species changed to the color of their environment, which made it nearly impossible to locate them, giving them the advantage to attack. But despite that ability they looked nothing like a chameleon. Their bodies resembled something akin to a human but they had scaly flesh and the head and horns of a Triceratops.
The true reasons behind the mission became a little clearer at that time. The government had denied any knowledge of those creatures prior to the attack. Vulcan refused to believe it. Sending in his team to protect the people from the species made more sense than sending them in to study lifestyles.
He hid behind a tree when Wisteria stood and glanced at the sky. He fully understood her need to visit the lake as often as she had. It was a different world. A women’s haven, sheltered by beautiful rainbows of color. As she ambled down the path he stepped from the back side of the trunk for an unobstructed view.
During his nine-year vocation as lieutenant general he’d encountered an array of dangerous assignments but he’d never experienced anything as damn freaky as that alien species. He’d rather sky-jump into the croc-infested Everglades than do battle with them again. Damn.
As if they weren’t bad enough, a mutant breed currently invaded the land. He couldn’t exactly say invaded because he’d only seen a few over the past three or four weeks. Nor could he consider them new because they seemed to evolve from the flesh-eating tribe. If not for their zombielike actions or the scales on portions of their bodies they could’ve passed as humans. Whatever the hell they were, nothing surprised him here.
Sadly, abiding by the modified rules of their contract, Vulcan burned the bodies of his fallen unit. They were not supplied with airtight containers to transport the deceased home due to lack of space on the shuttle. Therefore anyone opposed to cremation was excluded from this specific mission.
It was supposed to take place over twelve months but two years passed and they still hadn’t received clearance to leave. He shook his head and smirked. Were they destined to evolve from the Stone Age to the Bronze Age with these people? Would he ever see modern civilization again? He didn’t mind the postponement but the women on his team were getting antsy to leave.
When Wisteria reached safety and fell into the arms of a tiny gray-haired woman he backed off her trail and headed to the lake. He’d been watching her from a distance long enough to know the woman was her mother.
He hadn’t missed much during the past few months, including her interactions with family, romping around the yard with children and sitting cuddled near the fire with a young woman who shared the same hair color, mannerisms and petite size.
Even while she bathed he’d been hidden within the trees. Despite the other tribes avoiding the lake because of the two-headed snake, he’d watched Wisteria ride the damn thing. He worried that one day those tribes would eventually wander into the area. Especially if they saw a prime target such as an unescorted woman. Those murderous groups wouldn’t hesitate to abduct, rape or shred her to pieces.
Unfortunately his unit failed to protect the peaceful clans from the bloodthirsty tribes. Some were taken captive. Some were tortured and mutilated. Others were ripped apart and left to rot.
If the government hadn’t prohibited any unethical attacks against the primitive tribes, Vulcan’s team would have destroyed the so-called Flesh Eaters or Mountain Slayers to end the ruthless murders. But per Commander Sumner’s orders, regardless of the vicious activity, what happened between tribes happened. He said it was their way of life, therefore the mission constituted documenting the people’s stages of evolution, that was it.
Bullshit! They weren’t journalists gathering information for the media circus. Vulcan and the unit were professionals, trained to fight in bloody battles. Who in the hell were his bosses trying to fool? You don’t send in the big guns for documentation.
* * * * *
Wisteria kicked off the moccasins and hid them under the fallen nest. She’d rather wear them into the habitat because they really did lessen the burn but she’d have to explain where they’d come from and that would garner trouble.
“Wisteria, oh my baby,” Nodda whimpered while shuffling toward Wisteria as she emerged from the path. “I’ve been so worried because of those quakes.” She held up her arms, offering a hug. “Where’s Boar? I sent him to find you.”
“I didn’t see him, Momma.” Thank goodness or he might have caught her with Vulcan. She trusted he wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone if he had but his confrontation would’ve been awkward.
She limped to her mom and snuggled into her embrace. “Are you sure he went to the golden lake?”
“Yes.”
Nodda tightened her arms around Wisteria’s waist. “You’re hurt.”
“I stepped on a thorn, but I’m okay.”
Wisteria considered herself small but she wasn’t nearly as tiny as her mother. The top of Nodda’s head leveled at Wisteria’s collarbone. Now that Wisteria had been in the arms of a man who’d towered above her she knew the security her mother must feel when in her husband’s embrace.
Vulcan. He’d evoked some wonderful sensations in a very short time. They were powerful yet unexplainable. The moisture that had pooled on the leather skin between her thighs was the most unusual feeling. She thought her mom had taught her everything regarding a woman’s body but she’d obviously been mistaken. How could she leave out something so vital? Unless her mom had never experienced it. Was it normal?
Vulcan. Would she see him again or was he like a rare stone she’d find only once in her lifetime? He’d left an impression she’d never forget.
“Momma! Momma, Daddy’s calling for you,” Ivy hollered as she trotted toward Wisteria and her mom. “The deer hide is ready to be scraped and hung to dry.”
The moment Wisteria glanced at Ivy’s expression she knew something had upset her. Her brows were scrunched and the wrinkled skin between them contorted her youthful, flawless beauty.
Nodda released Wisteria and patted her cheek before turning to head to the slaughter shack.
Ivy wrapped her hands around Wisteria’s arm and laid her head on her shoulder. Wisteria needn’t say anything. Their silent bond comforted and uplifted her sister.
Wisteria rested her cheek against Ivy’s hair and led her toward the fire burning in the center of the habitat. The ground consisted of clay and abrasive sand. She missed the beauty of the green meadows and how soothing they felt under her feet. Especially now.
“Why are you walking funny, Wisteria?”
“I have a cut on my foot. It’ll be fine by morning. Now tell me, why are you sad?”
“I heard Daddy and Sledge talking a while ago. Daddy traded you to him for furs.”