The First Hunter

Between Prey and Predator

Leanne woke up with a long, satisfied stretch, her body warm and cocooned in softness. An ache rippled through her muscles—her foggy brain clung to the familiar: Must've been that long hike through the woods... She sighed contentedly, more rested than she had been in days. Warmth surrounded her. Not just the furs. Something else. Solid. Firm. Steady. Like being cradled—

Wait.

Cradled?

Her eyes snapped open.

Two piercing blue lights stared back. Not lights—eyes. Sharp. Unblinking. Glowing with a cold, precise irritation that sent a spike of adrenaline through her chest.

"Oh no..." she whispered.

Memories surged. The nightmare. Her ridiculous plea to share his bed. His hesitation. And now... this. She was draped around him like a child's plush toy.

Worse: she was drooling.

His mandibles twitched in visible repulsion. "Hyuman," Bet-Khar said, his tone clipped and exact, "you are secreting fluids from your mouth. Again."

Leanne jerked back, hastily wiping her chin, heat flooding her face. "Oh my God, I'm sorry! That's—ugh—that's disgusting."

His brow ridges pulled together with mechanical precision, the faint whirr of his rebreather underlining the silence. "Indeed. It is."

She tried to shift away, but her limbs were stiff with soreness. Bruises. The shower incident. She winced, trying not to groan aloud.

Bet-Khar exhaled a frustrated click, the sound reminiscent of metal flexing under strain. "Disengage your limbs from mine, Hyuman."

"I'm trying!" she hissed, struggling to untangle herself from his much larger frame. Her efforts were pitiful. She might as well have been trying to climb off a mountain.

"You have rendered yourself inert," he muttered, his voice nearly a growl. "This configuration is inefficient. And disgraceful."

Leanne groaned, her legs tangled hopelessly beneath the furs. Cramps? Soreness? Embarrassment-induced paralysis? Who knew. All she did know was that she wasn't moving gracefully.

His gaze never left her, as if cataloging every inefficient attempt. "Your coordination is abysmal," Bet-Khar observed. "Are your motor functions compromised?"

"No, just—shut up. I'm fine."

His head tilted with a mechanical precision, eyes narrowing. "That assessment is clearly inaccurate."

She gave up with a sigh, flopping sideways to escape his hold, her face still red from shame.

He followed her motion with a disdainful glance, his voice low. "I do not comprehend your lack of shame. You requested access to my sleeping quadrant, overrode my rejection, initiated proximity... and now contaminate my dermal plates with your fluids."

She rubbed her temples. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. I'm the worst. You're traumatized."

Bet-Khar's mandibles flexed. "Correct."

But something in his glare shifted when she smirked at him through the mess of furs.

"You called me unworthy prey last night, huh? Well... joke's on you, buddy. You're stuck with the 'unworthy prize.'"

He paused. His mandibles stilled. "Prize?" he echoed, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "Incorrect classification. You are a liability. A biological hazard with limbs."

Leanne narrowed her eyes, not missing the hint of amusement behind the insult. "If I'm a curse, what does that make you?"

He stared at her for a beat. "An unfortunate recipient of your presence."