Ensnared: An Alien Romance Trilogy (The Spider’s Mate Book 1)
Ensnared: Chapter 9

Instinct seized control of Ketahn. Faster than he could’ve made the decision to act, his hand darted up, grasping the weapon by the flat of its blade and forcing it away from his neck. In the same instant, he pulled himself fully through the hole and lunged at his attacker, tearing down the cloth at the opening as he moved.

He wrenched the weapon from his attacker’s grasp and caught a pair of slender arms in his hands, driving the creature back. His mind only recognized Ivy’s face—her eyes wide and filled with terror—as he slammed her back into the wall, pinning her wrists over her head.

Ivy gasped and struggled against his hold, shaking her head from side to side. Her golden hair spilled over her face and shoulders. “Aym sahree! Aym sahree! Ay dih dunt noe eet wuhz yew!”

Ketahn tossed the weapon aside and moved closer to Ivy. Her alluring scent filled his den, and between her nearness and her struggles, it was growing stronger by the moment, clouding his thoughts. One of his forelegs brushed against her leg, drawing in more of that scent and her taste. He leaned toward her and breathed her in. The combined smells of the jungle and sweet, fragrant, warm female flooded his senses.

She stilled, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. “Pleez, Ay dih dunt noe. Aym sahree.”

He dipped his head, burying his face between her shoulder and neck and brushing it over that pale, soft flesh. Her hair delicately swept over his hide, sparking tingles across its surface. A rumble sounded in his chest, vibrating through him to the tips of his limbs.

Behind his slit, his stem stirred, pulsing with the beat of his hearts.

His claspers unfolded and reached forward, sliding over the rounded spots where Ivy’s legs met her torso—ready to draw her against him and lock her in place.

Ready to mate.

“Ketahn,” Ivy whispered next to his ear. “Pleez dohnt hert mee. Pleez, no.”

Ketahn halted, not allowing himself to even draw breath for several moments. The sound of his name from her lips had pierced that haze, but it was that final word, that no, that shattered whatever trance he’d fallen into.

He raised his head and looked down at Ivy.

She was trembling in his hold, her eyes were closed, and her face was turned aside. Her cheek glistened with moisture. A clear droplet flowed from the inside corner of her eye and rolled down her face, following that wet trail to her lips and, finally, her chin.

“What is this?” he asked, staring at the droplet hanging on her chin.

Ivy opened her eyes and slowly turned her face toward him. The white parts of her eyes were pinker now, the tiny veins within more visible than ever. More water shimmered within them, and the dark hairs on her eyelids were spiked and coated with moisture like blades of grass laden with dew.

Ketahn lifted one of his lower hands, carefully wiped that drop from her chin with the pad of his finger, and brought it to his face. He could barely make out its scent when he inhaled—water, but something a little more.

Opening his mouth, he extended his tongue and touched it to the tip of his finger.

Water, yes, but there was a saltiness to it—and a hint of sweetness. He needed more.

He dipped his head closer to her and ran his tongue from the bottom of her jaw up to her cheek, licking away that salty-sweet moisture and sampling her flesh.

She made a mewling sound and turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut as her trembling intensified. “Wut arr yew doo eeng?”

His stem pressed hard against the inside of his slit, threatening to force its way out, and his claspers tightened their hold on her. Ivy’s scent and taste were driving everything else out of his mind, were plunging him back into a lustful haze that would become a mating frenzy soon enough.

He licked her cheek again, and another rumble rolled in his chest. She shifted her body against his slit. A tremor of pleasure raced through him as he drew his tongue back into his mouth. His slit parted, and the tip of his stem emerged.

“Yew sed yew wud naht eat mee,” she said quietly.

Eat? She thought he was about to eat her?

Ketahn jerked his head away from her, bringing his mandibles together and keeping them closed. Immense heat flowed through his body, and the pressure building behind his slit…

By the Eight, he wasn’t about to eat her, he was about to mate her!

He was about to mate this…this creature.

It made no difference that she was intelligent, that she could speak and learn—she was not a vrix, and the desire she’d awoken in him was wrong. It…it would be like mating an animal.

With a hiss, he released her and retreated, snapping his claspers firmly against his pelvis and forcing his stem back into his slit.

She fell to the floor and huddled there against the wall. Her trembling had not subsided. The skin of her forearms was red and irritated where his hands had been clasped a moment before.

“What are you, Ivy? A spirit of temptation?”

She turned her face toward him, her eyes wide and fearful, her cheeks glistening with salty sweet water. Ketahn flattened his tongue against the roof of his mouth as the urge to lick her struck him again.

It was her fear that held him back. The sight of it unsettled Ketahn just enough for him to reclaim control, for his disgust with himself to twist into something closer to shame.

Ivy inhaled shakily and raised her hand to her chest. “Ivy.” She shook her head. “Naht food. Ivy Ketahn’s…frend.”

“Ivy naht food,” he said gently in her language. “Ketahn no eat Ivy.”

Her head fell back against the wall, and she closed her eyes. Her lips pressed together, but something like relief shone upon her face as the strips of hair over her eyes relaxed.

Backing a little farther away from her, he grasped his bag and swung it off his shoulders, setting it on the floor. He had to force himself to move slowly; his muscles thrummed with tension, and his body had yet to fully settle. He wasn’t sure if it could settle at all, not while her scent enveloped him.

Tugging the bag open, he reached in and took out the bulging water skin he’d refilled from the dew collectors this morning. “Drink.”

Once she’d opened her eyes, he pretended to open the water skin and pour some into his mouth before holding it out to her. “Drink.”

Ivy leaned forward with an outstretched hand and took the water skin. She glanced at it, repeated the word, and spoke another in her own language, “Dreenk.”

She opened the top, brought it up to her nose, and sniffed. Seeming satisfied, she pressed it to her mouth and tipped her head back. Her throat worked as she drank long and deep. She paused only to take a breath before tipping the skin up again.

Ketahn watched, fascinated. The way her lips curled around the end of the water skin allowed no water to escape. He never would have guessed two plump little pieces of flesh could be so useful.

Her eyes flicked toward him, meeting his gaze. With a start, she lowered the water skin, causing some water to trickle out and run down her chin. Her pink tongue darted out, licking the moisture from her lips.

“Sahree.” Her cheeks darkened as she raised a hand and wiped the excess water off her chin. Closing the water skin, she offered it to him. “Wahnt sum? Thair iz morr.”

His eyes lingered on her lips. He would have liked to lick away that water himself, to have another taste of her skin, to—

Barely suppressing a growl, he extended an arm to accept the water skin, taking it on his upturned palm so as to keep as much distance between his hand and hers. He opened the top and raised the skin to his face. A hint of her scent wafted from it.

Ketahn poured water into his open mouth. Some of it ran down the sides of his face, but he ignored it. He sealed the container and set it aside. Dropping his attention to his bag again, he removed a pouch from within, untied the leather strip that held it closed, and dipped a hand inside to scoop out a handful of wriggling grubs.

He held his hand out to her. “Food.”

Ivy recoiled, her face scrunching as she stared at the squirming grubs. “Oh, grohs.”

Mandibles twitching, Ketahn tilted his head and moved his hand closer to her. “Eat, Ivy. Food.”

One of the grubs wiggled free and fell onto the upper segment of her leg. Ivy shrieked. The piercing sound was like a spike being driven through Ketahn’s ears. She slapped the grub away, and it landed on the fur rug in front of him.

Ketahn plucked the grub off the floor with his lower right hand. Its pale, plump yellow body pulsated as it weakly attempted to escape his hold.

Why was she not accepting his food? Did she not understand?

“This is food,” he said. “Eat.” To demonstrate, he opened his mouth and tossed the grub inside, biting down on it. The plump body popped between his teeth, filling his mouth with juices.

Ivy’s lips parted, and she gagged. She quickly covered her mouth as her cheeks puffed out and a shudder coursed through her. “Oh, thahtz nastee. Ay em naht eating thaht.” She gagged again, this time against her hand. Her skin looked paler than normal.

Ketahn swallowed, glanced at the grubs still in his closed hand, and looked back at Ivy. When he moved that hand toward her again, she shook her head vigorously and recoiled.

He hadn’t seen enough of her kind to know for certain, but she looked unwell. She appeared sickly compared to how she’d looked even in her terror a short while before. He dumped the handful of grubs back into the sack and tied it closed, sliding it aside but keeping his gaze on Ivy.

There were many creatures in the Tangle that did not eat the flesh of other animals. Was her kind the same way?

Bracing his forelegs to either side of Ivy, Ketahn dragged himself closer to her. She stared at him with those wide eyes, which, thanks to the sunlight streaming in through the den’s opening, were a brighter blue than the clear sky. He cupped her jaw with one hand.

“Ketahn,” she said, clutching his wrist with both of her hands as she tried to pull away from him.

“Calm, Ivy,” he replied gently, maintaining his hold on her. “I need but a moment.”

Ivy’s nose holes flared with her heavy breaths as he touched her lips with the fingers of another hand, peeling them back to reveal her teeth. Her body tensed, and her grip strengthened, but she did not resist him.

Four of her front teeth were pointed, but they weren’t nearly long or sharp enough to be considered fangs. The others were flat and straight. He squeezed her jaw lightly; when she did not react, he opened his mouth wide and squeezed again.

The strips of hair over her eyes slanted down toward her nose, and a fiery gleam sparked in her eyes. “Ihf yew puht one uhv thohz nastee theengz en mai mouth, Ay wil byt yew.”

She opened her mouth wide, flattening her little pink tongue.

Ketahn leaned closer and angled her face to better peer inside her mouth. The teeth running along the sides were wide and also fairly flat, closer to those of creatures that survived by eating plants than those that ate only meat.

Apart from those white teeth, her mouth looked soft, its flesh an even deeper pink than that of her lips. His urge to slip a finger between her lips was alarming in its suddenness and strength, and it wasn’t even half as strong as his desire to slide his tongue along hers, to discover what this part of her tasted like.

He released her and withdrew before those thoughts could fully take root and command his actions. His only purpose in studying her that way had been to determine what sort of food she could eat. Fascination was not the same as attraction.

And he had no interest in taking a mate, regardless—not a vrix, and certainly not a…a whatever Ivy was. However intelligent this female was, she was a pet. Nothing more. A curiosity to occupy his time.

“Stay,” he said in her language, turning away from her to collect an empty sack from one of the baskets on the wall. “I will replace new food. Plants.”

Ivy nodded. “Ay wil stay.”

Ketahn mimicked her gesture, accepting that nod as a yes. “I will return quickly this time. Drink more if you want. Water.” He pointed to the water skin on the floor as he moved to the den’s opening.

She looked at the water skin. “Wahtur.” Curling her fingers around it, she drew it closer. “Thaynk yew.”

Tilting his head, he regarded her for another moment. Her softly spoken words and demeanor conveyed appreciation. Was she thanking him?

A gentle trill sounded in Ketahn’s throat as he exited the den. They had far to go in their journey toward understanding one another, but every bit of progress was encouraging—their growing knowledge was like the strands of an immense web being woven into place one at a time, slowly creating something far greater and stronger than any individual piece.

I’m going to die.

Ivy was on an alien planet with a big alien spider creature staring her and an array of alien food spread out in front of her. She flicked her gaze over the plants laid on the floor.

There were white roots similar to carrots, palm sized, purple maybe-fruit balls with bumpy skin, thick leafy plants that looked like succulents, long stringy ones that reminded Ivy of an air plant she once owned that had died—because apparently you still needed to water air plants—a couple heart-shaped pink fruits with gnarly purple spikes growing off their skins, a cluster of pale growths that looked like bean sprouts, and several thin, golden ovals that might have been some kind of mushroom but were reminiscent of honey combs.

Eating any of this would be like playing Russian roulette.

Every colonist had been given a series of injections to help their bodies adapt to Xolea’s environment, to protect them against diseases and bacteria both known and unknown, and to even make them resistant to toxins that might’ve been present in food on their new planet, but nothing was guaranteed. That was why the Somnium had been stocked with ample food stores, equipment, and supplies to grow crops of their own. That was also why every colonist, regardless of their intended duty on-planet, had been trained in the use of electronic chemical analyzers that had been included with the tools—so they all knew how to determine what was safe for consumption.

Ivy didn’t have any of that here. All she had was chance.

“Eat, Ivy,” Ketahn said, drawing her attention up to him. He raised his hand to his mouth and pantomimed taking a bite. His teeth made a clicking noise as they snapped together. “Food.”

The f sound was still off in his pronunciation, produced with an airy rumbling from the back of his throat, but it was a big improvement over his earlier attempts.

Ivy nodded. “Yes. Food.” She returned her gaze to the plants. It was in that moment that her stomach cramped again, making her wince and reminding her that she needed to eat. The water had helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. She was literally starving.

She released a long, slow breath. “Okay. At least none of it is moving.”

Ivy picked up the spiky pink fruit, which reminded her of dragon fruit, and held it up. “What is this?”

He reached forward and took the fruit from her, using a thumb claw to slice the fruit’s thick skin near the top. Then he grasped one of those spikes and peeled it down. As the skin broke away, it revealed the interior of the fruit, which was a lot like a pomegranate—though the seeds clustered within were vibrant blue instead of red.

Ketahn handed the fruit back to her. “Seiki’larak.”

Ivy repeated the name as she took the fruit from him. Holding it on her palm, she scooped out a few of the seeds and brought them to her mouth. She tensed and mentally prepared herself, half excepting them to be insect eggs or something considering what Ketahn had tried to get her to eat before, but she was pleasantly surprised by the taste. The seeds were coated in a jellylike substance that was flavorful on its own, but once the soft arils had broken, sweet juice flooded onto her tongue.

She lifted the fruit to her mouth and scooped out more seeds, eating swiftly. Before she knew it, she was scraping the empty skin to get the last of the jelly.

“Kess’ur nahani seiki’larak?” Ketahn asked.

Lowering the fruit, she looked up at Ketahn to replace him watching her. Her lips stretched into a smile. “Seiki’larak was good.”

He tilted his head, his attention fixated on her mouth. His mandibles rose slowly, spreading wide, and his eyes narrowed just a little.

Was he…smiling? She could only assume so; he’d have to do it with his mandibles, as his mouth was hard and seemed mostly inflexible.

Setting the empty skin aside, Ivy picked up the lumpy purple ball next, holding it out to Ketahn. “And this?”

“Ekkai’uta.” Ketahn brought two of his hands together as though holding an invisible ball and then broke it apart.

“Simple enough.” Placing her thumbs near the stem, she dug them in and tore the two sides outward.

What she’d expected to replace inside was nothing like the reality. Instead of some pulpy meat like an orange or a peach, the fruit contained a thick, creamy, yogurt-like substance. She dipped her finger in and brought it to her mouth, sucking the dab off. Her brows rose—it tasted like a vanilla pudding.

“Oh my God,” Ivy groaned. “This is delicious.”

Ketahn tilted his head, bent his front legs more sharply, and rested his forearms atop his knees. Well, his upper knee joints, anyway. “Ven kess’ani ikarahl unixt thuun kess nahani ekkai’uta kota?”

That word, kess, had come up often when he spoke to her. She couldn’t be sure, but she had a suspicion that it meant you. That didn’t help her figure out what he was asking, but one obstacle at a time, right?

Still holding the shells of the ekkai’uta, she moved her hands closer until only an inch or two separated them. “Small. Use small words, Ketahn.”

With his upper hands, he imitated her gesture. “Vi? Smoll?”

Ivy nodded. “Vi. Small.” She widened her hands. “Big.”

He did the same. “Vig. Valai.”

“Big,” she repeated, emphasizing the b sound.

Ketahn tried again, producing something a bit closer with a strange clicking in his throat.

“Ivy is small. Ketahn is big.”

“Ivy is hong-ree. Eat.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Ivy is hungry.”

He leaned back, regarding her anew, and once again raised his mandibles and narrowed his eyes. This time, he produced a chittering sound. It should have been like any other sound from an unknown creature—alien and indecipherable, perhaps even unsettling—but somehow she knew that it was laughter.

Ivy raised the ekkai’uta to her mouth and slurped out its creamy inside, clearing both halves in a matter of seconds before grabbing the other one he’d brought, tearing it open, and devouring it. Then, though it went against all the survival training she’d been through before boarding the Somnium—they’d been advised to wait at least a little while after eating alien food even with a favorable analysis—she sampled several of the other foods.

She was simply too damn hungry to wait. As she ate, she and Ketahn continued to learn from one another.

The sprout-things were called jugan’telth. They were crisp, with a satisfying crunch, and a hint of spiciness that was reminiscent of horseradish though it wasn’t as strong. The roots were called ashok’tika, and they were surprisingly tender. There was an earthiness to their taste, but it was overwhelmed by starchiness. Biting into those roots was like chomping on a raw potato.

She’d have to figure out a way to cook those and try them again.

Her favorites were the honeycomb-things, huthaal’rok, which indeed were some sort of mushroom upon closer inspection. They melted on her tongue and tasted just how they looked—as sweet as honey.

She and Ketahn shared another seiki’larak after the huthaal’rok were gone. By then, she was full, and Ketahn gathered the remaining food to put away, sealing some of it in crude clay jars and dropping others in baskets on the wall.

As she watched him clean up, Ivy realized she was relaxed. Almost…content. Secure in the knowledge that this spider-man-creature wasn’t going to hurt or eat her, that Ketahn was friendly enough to provide her water, food, and shelter despite his reaction when he’d returned earlier.

Ivy couldn’t blame him—she’d held a spear to his throat. She’d picked up the weapon shortly after he’d left, having spent who knew how long jumping at every sound and freaking out every time the nest swayed a little more than normal. Holding the spear had helped ease her until the nest had really started shaking and she’d heard claws scraping the exterior.

She’d reacted in fear and instinct, her subconscious deciding she’d at least attempt to put up a fight against whatever terrifying monster had been about to eat her.

Ketahn had moved so fast—faster than she could even register that it was him and not some nameless horror.

Sucking in her lower lip and biting it, she ran her eyes over him. He wasn’t a spider or an insect, but the resemblance was undeniable—and she’d never been a fan of bugs. If she looked at him too hard, her mind hitched on all those inhuman characteristics. It told her to be afraid.

And she had been when he’d pinned her against the wall, when he’d wrapped those smaller appendages around her hips and run his tongue across her cheek—she’d been so sure he was going to eat her right then and there. But there were many times when he looked at her and there was almost a…tenderness in his eyes.

Just thinking that was almost enough to make her believe she really had lost her mind in cryosleep.

She needed to keep her focus on what was important—surviving and replaceing the Somnium. Finding other people. If she was alive, there had to be others, right? Other people who were in need of help? And if they found the Somnium, there had to be a chance of rescue, right?

If only Ketahn could tell her where he’d found her.

In time. They were making progress. She just…needed to be patient and hope that the others were okay.

That she wasn’t the only human left.