Arranged to the Alien

16 | Trying

The moment he stepped out the door, his heart sunk to his stomach. There was an awful amount of commotion around the fire for his liking.

The crowd of people parted like the Red Sea for their king, only for him to find Posie on the ground, her eyebrow split with blood dripping down her temple.

He knelt in front of her and helped her sit up. With a touch as light as a feather, he hooked a thick finger under her chin to get a better look at her face and the evidence of a fight. He delicately swiped his thumb over her eyebrow to wipe away the blood, but said nothing as he examined it.

After a brief pause, her heart skipped a nervous beat as he looked her dead in the eyes. His voice was low, quiet, and tense, his anger barely restrained, "who did this to you?"

"Umm..." she drawled, her eyebrows furrowing together, making her wince. "Kyros- shit." She cut herself off.

Vehmon furrowed his brows and leaned towards Crid to quietly ask, "he's not particularly inclined to follow that command.... Right?"

"Posie." His deep voice urged in a warning tone.

Her head tilted to pull away from his grasp, but he just held on tighter. She sighed and reluctantly met his eyes. "You won't get mad?"

He rose a brow, challenging her. Her eyes narrowed in return, challenging him right back.

He grit his teeth and murmured, "try not to get mad." He compromised.

She huffed, but knew that was the best response she'd get out of him. "One of the kids and I were playing and I accidentally tripped over someone's foot. The kid came over to help me but his claw accidentally caught me when he was just trying to inspect me," she emphasized the 'accident' part, not pointing out the specific kid or the foot she tripped over. "I'm okay. Promise. It was an honest mistake."

His eyes snapped up to connect eyes with a boy cowering behind Crid. He was no older than six years old and looked truly horrified. Kyros released Posie's chin to make a 'come hither' motion with his clawed pointer finger. The boy winced, but had no choice but to do as ordered by his king.

"Your name is Raxor, yes?" He asked in his language.

"Yes, sir."

"You hurt her?"

The boy ducked his head in shame and hesitantly nodded.

"You have something to say to your queen?"

He waited a moment and asked, "can you help me say it in human language so she can understand?"

Kyros had to admit, his heart softened a little at that, proud of the boy. "Sorry."

He frowned at the unfamiliar word and he did his best to pronounce, "sow-ree." He mumbled, his eyes cautiously meeting Posie's.

She grinned and ruffled the alien boy's hair. "It's okay. All is forgiven."

But of course, Kyros wasn't done. He turned to the lot of them and said, "We have to understand that humans are more fragile then we are. Our skin is tougher, we have claws and fangs to hunt and protect ourselves, while Posie is defenseless. We must be more careful. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Raxor said, while the rest of them bowed their heads, respectfully.

Kyros immediately turned his attention back to his wife, and examined the injury once again. Her hand caught his before he could touch it. "Kyros, I'm fine." She reassured him.

"My king," Ziba interrupted with a respectful nod. "A word?"

What was it now? He fought back a groan and turned to face Posie. He fully expected her to push him to go, but he was taken back by the hardened expression on her face. However, it wasn't directed at him, but at Ziba.