Ruth's Bonded (Ruth & Gron Book 1) Read online

  Ruth’s Bonded

  By

  V.C. Lancaster

  Text Copyright © 2015 V.C. Lancaster

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  Ruth hit the floor with a bang. Judging by how quickly the floor had risen up to meet her now aching shoulder, she’d fallen a little less than a storey. The pain wasn’t sharp enough for a break, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d dented something. She groaned and rolled onto her hands, trying to get her stunned back to co-operate enough to get on all fours, or sit up, maybe even stand. The room she was in was dark, almost pitch black, the only light coming from reflections from the room above, refracting around the room from the space immediately below the hole she’d fallen through. She managed to get onto her knees and looked around.

  The floor was metal, which explained why it had made that noise when she’d hit it. She couldn’t see the walls very well because the light didn’t reach that far, but light glinted off bolts and seams, which made her think they were metal too. The ceiling was also metal, with a hole in the centre that was roughly a metre and a half across. Next to her hand on the floor was a smaller hole, maybe six inches across. Not big enough for her whole foot to go in, but definitely big enough to trip her if she forgot it was there. Those two holes seemed to be the only breaks in the metal monotony. There were no doors as far as she could see, and certainly no windows. Despite the apparent sterility of the environment, there was still a distinct animal smell like fur and sweat, as if a hard-worked horse had only just vacated the space.

  She tried to think through that morning to find the point at which she’d hit her head, or accidentally taken a tab of acid with her coffee. She’d gone to bed the night before as normal, turning off the TV at ten to eleven and snuggling under her duvet on the hour. She’d slept through the night, no flashing lights or tractor beams or little green men with anal probes had disturbed her. She’d woken up feeling crummy but resigned, as she did most days, and got up for work. She got dressed, bought her coffee and breakfast muffin on her way to work as usual. She’d drank some and had a few nibbles out of the brown paper bag as she walked. The city was heaving with every employed person trying to get to their desk on time, at the same time. She turned into her regular shortcut down a short alley, and then?

  Then she was here. Or rather, in the room upstairs. She could remember a shivery, unstable feeling, maybe a bad taste in her mouth, and her hair standing on end. Then she was stumbling off a raised platform in a shiny chrome room, totally off balance and with no coffee or muffin. She immediately had a sense of the walls moving as she was shoved roughly from behind, and then quickly from the sides. Wobbling sheets of metal formed a path in front of her, like a run, and she was being shoved down it by the sheets nearest to her. They didn’t quite come up to her shoulders, so whoever was behind them must have been very short for her not to see them. They kept her too off balance for her to gain a sure enough footing to fight back, and soon enough, they shoved her into the hole and now here she was.

  Had she been kidnapped? If she had, they’d been very efficient, but why take her damn coffee? That was just cruel. Why take her at all, now that she thought about it? She wasn’t anybody. She wasn’t important, nobody she knew was important, the company she was currently working for wasn’t important. She was a temp. She made photocopies. She’d been in the office less than a month. She was 28 and single, living alone in the city away from her parents who still lived in her hometown. She wasn’t friends with any of her neighbours, she didn’t even have a pet. Maybe that was why they took her: because she wouldn’t be missed.

  Oh God, what if she was going to be sold into slavery? Forced to work in a brothel or something? She didn’t think she would survive that, but she knew that if that was what was happening, she would be beaten and restrained, probably given drugs. She’d seen an episode of CSI like that. Maybe she’d already been given drugs, and that was why she couldn’t remember how she got here. But then surely her shoulder wouldn’t hurt so much? Or maybe she had broken it after all, and the drugs were numbing a worse pain? Either way, she knew she couldn’t stay here. She wasn’t tied up or gagged, she could bang on the sides of whatever container they had her in and shout, and maybe she’d be rescued. It had to be some kind of truck she was in. She really hated herself for going down that alley now.

  A sudden clang of metal and the sound of a bolt being slid into place had her looking up at the hole she had come from. A hatch of crossed bars now secured the hole she had been thrown through. Fear pumped through her. “You can’t keep me in here!” she yelled. “People are going to look for me, and then you’ll be sorry!”

  She was going to yell some more, but when she drew in her breath and opened her mouth she was cut off by a loud, tearing, rumbling growl from behind her. She froze, feeling like ice water had just been tipped down her back. Something was in here with her. What? With a growl like that, it had to be something like a tiger, or a bear. Jesus Christ, had they fed her to it? Were they supposed to fight like in the Colosseum? Was this a death match, or a snuff film?

  Please be on the other side of a fence, she thought. Please...

  With wide eyes, she turned to look over her shoulder into the corner of the cell. Her first thought was Oh, thank God, it’s a human.

  Her second thought was No... Not human.

  She screamed in real terror and flung her back against the furthest wall, facing this thing she could barely see. It looked like a huge man, body-builder big, sitting with his knees drawn up and his arms folded, dark eyes staring at her. That was what she had seen at first. Then she noticed that parts of his body was obscured by what she guessed was dark fur, spreading from the back of his neck, over his shoulders, down his arms to his hands. What she could see of his chest was also blackened by this fur that made him almost invisible in the dark. It covered most of his legs and the tops of his feet, like a hobbit, she thought hysterically. She assumed his hair was the same colour, but she could hardly see it. She only assumed it was there because the bald patches of skin like his face and parts of his chest were the only parts she could see in the poor light.

  His face was what said he wasn’t human, or not fully anyway. He had a heavy brow hiding large, dark eyes, and a flat, wide nose, but the thing that stuck out, literally, was his mouth. He had a huge square jaw, and it looked like his teeth protruded out like a gorilla. He snarled as she screamed, exposing a thick white canine that looked to be three inches long at least, curving over his lower teeth, making her wonder how he fit it in his mouth.

  When he snarled, she managed to suppress her screaming into a whimper. Was this a caveman? A Neanderthal? No, she’d seen models and pictures in museums, and while the face was close, the fur was all wrong. Cavemen were hairy, sure, but not like this. This was definitely fur, like on an animal, but it didn’t cover his whole body. It seemed to have some kind of pattern to it, like the light and dark patches on an antelope designed to confuse predators about the shape of the animal. This thing’s fur was all one colour, but it seemed to deliberat
ely leave parts of his body bald, and Ruth wondered why.

  She realised he hadn’t moved, only growled and snarled, so she dared to take her eyes off him and look around for anything else she might have missed. She was hoping for an escape route or at least something that indicated he couldn’t get to her, but there was nothing. The walls were perfectly smooth metal, no hinges or buttons or levers. Her eyes returned to the beast across from her, her heart pounding. She had definitely, no two ways about it, been thrown into a holding cell with this thing, and unless he was a woman-eater, she was just going to have to get along with him.

  Chapter 2

  Gron jumped when the creature smacked into the floor in front of him. He had probably been dozing, he realised, angry at himself. He watched as the animal rolled itself onto its front with a groan of pain. This did not look good. So far, his captors hadn’t thrown anything larger than a meal into his cell. This thing was big too. Not as big as he was, but if it was aggressive he could be hurt if it had claws or sharp teeth or venom. Was he expected to fight it? Eat it? Was he supposed to provide entertainment for his captors by engaging this thing in bloodsport? He watched it carefully as it dragged itself into a crouch.

  Its body was covered, that much was obvious. It seemed to have painful-looking hobbling devices on its feet, which made him realise that in shape at least, it matched him. It was much thinner, but it had two arms and two legs and only one head on top, as far as he could tell. He couldn’t tell if the coverings had been placed there by his captors to keep it warm or protect it, or if the creature had been taken while already wearing them. Gron knew of species that covered their bodies with fabrics, and the complexity that he observed now suggested that they were more than just a coat to keep the thing warm. So, given that it had the same shape as his people, and wore manufactured coverings, that would imply it was intelligent.

  He wished to see its face, but a long mass of straight and loose-hanging fur blocked his view. How odd, to have a pelt yet still wear the coverings. Perhaps it was not a pelt, or at least, not one the creature grew itself. It might be some kind of trophy from a kill that it wore on its head. He inhaled, trying to catch its scent, which was surprisingly complex. Dozens of sweet and bitter smells layered over each other in varying strengths, and only buried at the bottom was the smell of flesh. Overall, it gave the impression of a very clean animal that had leapt from a stream to dry itself in a bed of flowers, but no flowers he had ever smelt before.

  It did not look at him, and he kept very still. He did not know yet whether or not it was dangerous. He watched it begin to look around, at the drainage pipe in the floor and the access hatch in the ceiling. As it turned towards him, he saw its face and froze. There were differences between them, yes, but what this new animal most closely resembled was a Queen. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realised immediately. Yes, her scent was mostly covered by the sweet smells she had applied to herself, and her fabric coverings shielded her breasts from his view, but still he should have realised. This was a Queen. He scowled as he processed this. His captors had stolen a Queen and thrown her into this hole with him. Were they mad? Suicidal? Did they not know that her males would come for her? And what was he supposed to do now?

  He tightened in on himself, tried to make himself look smaller, non-threatening. He did not want the anger of her males to fall on him as well. It was not his fault he also happened to be here. He never would have enclosed himself with her by choice. He had been taught correctly. He respected the laws.

  He tensed when her gaze passed over him, and was surprised when she didn’t react. It wasn’t like she was ignoring him, it was like she hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe she could not see in the dark as well as he could, or her eyes just hadn’t adjusted to the darkness after the light of above. But it gave him the opportunity to study her face more closely. Yes, they were different. It would take at least two of her to make one Queen of his kind, maybe even three. Perhaps she was young? But that wouldn’t explain the differences in their faces. Most noticeably, her teeth sat back from the end of her nose, which stuck out, giving her a withered, beaky look. She had two eyes, like him, though hers seemed to be proportionately smaller to suit her finer features. Her nose looked incredibly delicate, as if a strong wind might hurt it. Surely it was in danger of breaking, being made so thin as well as sticking out from her face? But her eyes were surprisingly prominent, and while he could not tell exactly what colour they were in the dark, he could see that they were pale, not dark like his. He found himself thinking that her skin looked soft.

  He tore his gaze away from her face, but most of the rest of her body was covered. Her hands where they supported her on the floor looked just as delicate as her nose. He seriously doubted she could even climb to her own tree with those. She must come from a very peaceful and prosperous tribe, perhaps one that lives by water, and eats fish. Gron had heard of people like that, though he had never met one. She certainly looked like she was more suited to water, with her thin and delicate frame. He pictured her narrow shoulders cutting through the water, her light bones keeping her from sinking, and decided that must be right.

  The barred hatch that covered the hole above them clanged down as they were locked in together. The Queen looked up in apparent alarm and began shouting. It was no language Gron understood, but it was loud. Her voice was abrasive, much higher in pitch than any Queen he knew.

  She drew in a breath to keep shouting but he interrupted her. “They will only grow angry and punish you,” he said. He didn’t think it wise to tell her straight away that he would protect her. If she was a Queen, she would already know that.

  She quietened immediately. He frowned in concern when he saw how stiff she had become. Slowly she turned to look at him, and he remembered that she had failed to see him in the dark. As soon as her eyes focused on him, she screamed. It hurt his ears but he dare not move. Obviously she was frightened. She had not known he was there and he must be larger than her males, as she was so small compared to him. When she continued to shriek as if he was killing her, he couldn’t stop his lip from lifting in contempt. He had done nothing to her, would do nothing, and she was implying he was not a good, honourable male by screaming and cowering that way. At his snarl, her scream changed to a whimper, and he watched as her eyes ran up and down his body. He sat still for her inspection, hoping it would reassure her to know what he looked like, but it made him uncomfortable nonetheless, and his tail twitched in his lap.

  He was trapped in this small space with a Queen. He must remain calm, and in control of himself. If she had been taken, her males would be coming soon. He reminded himself he could not afford to make a mistake.

  Chapter 3

  Pressing her back to the wall as if she still intended to go through it, Ruth sank to the ground, her legs weak. The... alien was still across the room, watching her. Was that what he was? An alien? Had she been abducted by aliens? Was that a real thing? She hadn’t seen anyone else, none of the people who had shoved her into the hole, but this guy was not human. Not even, like, an early human, and that would have been unbelievable enough on its own. Well, if she’d been abducted, it looked like this guy had been too. The question was, was he friendly, or unfriendly?

  He hadn’t moved yet, and he was still staring at her. She guessed she must look pretty weird to him, too. And she had screamed her head off as soon as she saw him and flung herself to the other side of the room. She realised now that might have looked strange, maybe offended him. She realised belatedly that maybe she should be operating on prison rules, things like don’t make eye-contact, don’t show weakness. She wondered if the people who had taken her were watching. They must have heard her scream at least, and no one had come to check if she was still alive yet. She ran her hand through her hair self-consciously. She was terrified – of her cell-mate, of why she had been taken, of who she had been taken by, and if she would ever be let go – but that didn’t stop her being embarrassed. Typical.

  It sudden
ly seemed very quite in the cell.

  She looked around again, just for something to distract herself. The alien was the only other thing in the cell. Great. She cleared her throat.

  “Hi.”

  Nothing. Well, okay, he blinked.

  “I’m Ruth.”

  Silence.

  “Can you speak English? Do you understand me? Nod if you can understand me.”

  He replied, or at least Ruth thought he did, by growling. He didn’t look angry, but he was definitely growling. So communication was a no-go. She thought maybe he might have a universal translator or something, like in Star Trek, but apparently not. She wondered again how long she would be here. She hadn’t even eaten her breakfast. There was a coffee and a tasty muffin lying in an alley right now literally with her name on it. For some reason that made her really sad. She didn’t want to be abducted by aliens, she didn’t even want to know aliens existed. Shouldn’t she be allowed to see the stars or something at least, if she had to be kidnapped in space? Maybe they hadn’t left Earth yet! Surely NASA or someone monitored this sort of thing? She decided she liked that idea much better than thinking she was never going home. She supposed it could be worse. They hadn’t tried to stick anything in her yet. She wasn’t strapped to a table or restrained.

  She kind of wanted to lie down, but she didn’t think that would make her feel better. It looked uncomfortable too. She would have liked something to eat or drink. She hoped they fed her. She groaned at the thought of what the next few hours might hold for her. She would get thirsty. She would get hungry. She might need to go, and there clearly wasn’t a toilet in here. She looked at the hole in the floor with dread. She was starting to get cold, though she couldn’t feel a draft as if there was air conditioning. She was glad she still had her clothes, pretty-but-not-stylish office wear, slacks, a blouse, and a blazer. She still had her mid-heeled shoes. It was probably the adrenaline leaving her that was making her cold, and not having any breakfast calories or caffeine to burn. She’d probably get a headache without the coffee eventually from the withdrawal.