Aarya yelped the moment Kiran bent toward her.
"What now—wait, no! Don't—!"
But it was too late.
One arm—just one—wrapped cleanly around her waist, lifting her like she weighed less than a cluster of wild fruits. Her legs kicked midair in undignified panic as her scientist brain short-circuited.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"You can't walk," he said, matter-of-fact. "Very small. No weapon. You are injured. I carry."
"I can walk, you mountain of biceps! Put me down!"
Kiran ignored her flailing, walking with calm, unbothered strides, as though a struggling Earth woman in his arms was just a mildly irritable squirrel. His muscles shifted like tectonic plates beneath golden skin, and Aarya's face burned as she realized how close her cheek was to his bare chest.
"This is wildly inappropriate," she muttered, still wriggling. "You're kidnapping me."
"I rescue you again," he said proudly. "Twice now. I win."
"Win what?!"
He glanced down at her, then frowned suddenly—seriously, deeply—and slowed.
"You… feel… strange."
Aarya froze. "Excuse me?"
"Your body," he said, genuinely puzzled. "So soft. Not like… anyone. Not armored. No scales. No ironhide. No battle bone. Nothing."
He sniffed again—sniffed, for heaven's sake—and narrowed his glowing eyes in suspicion.
"You don't smell sick. But maybe you're broken. Damaged?"
Her mouth dropped open. "Broken?"
"Maybe your bones are… inside?" He looked thoughtful, as if this was a truly bizarre theory. "Or maybe you are cursed to melt?"
Aarya buried her face in her hands, too mortified to respond.
Kiran slowed further and gently adjusted his hold, his hands absurdly careful now, as if she might crack or dissolve. One massive hand hovered beneath her back, barely grazing her, while the other cradled her thighs in the lightest, most reverent hold imaginable.
"This is worse than being eaten by a plant," she muttered.
Kiran paused again, suddenly somber. "Do your people leave you behind because of this softness?"
She blinked. "What?"
"In my world," he murmured, eyes flicking across the horizon as though scanning for threats, "the weak are hidden. Or abandoned. Soft ones like you… usually do not live long."
Aarya's breath caught.
He wasn't mocking her. That strange, low sadness in his voice—it wasn't pity. It was memory. Maybe even grief.
"I wasn't abandoned," she said, softer this time. "I came here… on purpose. I'm a scientist. I chose this."
Kiran's gaze flicked back to her, confused.
"You chose this?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I'm not broken."
He said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Good."
But his grip didn't change. He still held her like something sacred and easily shattered.
Aarya exhaled. Somewhere between the awkward silence and the thud of his heavy steps across the wild alien terrain, her panic dulled into something else. Something quiet and complicated.
"You still think I'm a child, don't you?" she muttered.
Kiran tilted his head. "Not child. Just… very delicate… and loud."
"I hate you."
He grinned. "Still loud."
After travelling for more than 2 hours
Aarya's stomach growled in protest, loud enough to echo against the tall, alien rock walls surrounding them. She hadn't realized just how long it had been since her last proper meal. The panic of her teleportation, the creatures, the injury—everything had clouded her thoughts, and she hadn't even thought to check her hunger until now. But now that her body was making its demands known, she couldn't ignore it any longer.
Kiran stilled upon hearing the sound."You make strange noise. Is it normal?" he asked with almost child-like curiosity.
She shifted uncomfortably in Kiran's arms, her face flushing slightly. "Do you have anything to eat?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Kiran didn't even look at her, his focus fixed ahead as he carried her deeper into the wilderness. "Yes. I hunt," he said proudly.
Aarya's stomach growled again, louder this time. She was used to cooking, not hunting, but she didn't think too much of it. If he had food, she'd eat it—beggars can't be choosers, after all. Her mind quickly calculated the nutritional value of whatever sustenance she could get her hands on.
Kiran's pace picked up as he moved with purpose, and Aarya couldn't help but marvel at his strength. His steps were sure and unhurried, as if the harsh alien world didn't faze him at all. It wasn't until they came upon a clearing, dense with strange plants and wildlife, that Aarya realized what was about to happen.
Kiran's hand tightened around her as he set her down onto a patch of grass. He stood for a moment, staring out at the creatures grazing nearby—something that resembled a herd of giant, horned lizards. His lips curled into something that was almost a smile.
Then, without warning, Kiran stepped forward, the ground vibrating beneath his feet with each thunderous step. His huge, muscular frame surged forward as he launched himself at one of the creatures. Aarya's eyes widened as she watched in disbelief, unable to tear her gaze away.
In one fluid motion, Kiran had the beast pinned to the ground, his teeth flashing as he snapped its neck with frightening precision. Blood spilled across the dirt, pooling beneath the giant creature's lifeless body.
Aarya recoiled, the color draining from her face.
"What... what are you doing?!" she gasped, her voice high-pitched with horror. She had seen animals killed before—sure—but never like this, and certainly never in such a brutal, primal fashion.
Kiran, unfazed by her shock, grinned. "Hunting. This is how we feed."
He tore into the animal's flesh with his sharp teeth, shredding the meat in a way that made Aarya's stomach churn. The raw, red mass didn't even look edible in the slightest. There was no way she could bring herself to eat something so grotesque, so unsanitary. Her stomach turned violently as she tried to push down the revulsion.
She turned away quickly, covering her mouth. "No... I can't eat that," she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady. "I mean, it's... raw. You just... tore it apart!"
Kiran paused, looking up at her with a confused frown. "Not eat?" His tone was genuinely perplexed, like she had just told him she didn't breathe air.
"No," she repeated, fighting the rising bile in her throat. "I'm not... used to that."
Kiran tilted his head, as if trying to understand this concept. He licked the blood off his fingers, then slowly walked back toward her, his massive frame casting a shadow over her smaller form.
"You not eat flesh?" he asked, a puzzled frown crossing his face. "You very soft. Not like the warriors here. Not like the others. You not hunt? You not… eat?" His voice dropped to something more solemn. "Are you malnourished?"
Aarya stared at him in shock. "I'm not malnourished!" she snapped. She was not weak. The idea of being malnourished was laughable. She had always been active, always on the go, doing scientific research and lab work. But as she stood before him, her body felt fragile in a way she couldn't quite explain.
Kiran's brow furrowed deeper, and for a moment, he just stared at her. His golden skin glowed under the alien sun, and his glowing blue veins throbbed with energy. But for the first time, there was an odd softness in his expression, something that made Aarya's heart beat a little faster in confusion.
"Maybe… you eat different food," Kiran mused aloud, as though solving a great mystery. "Food to make your body strong. You are small. You need strong food."
Aarya opened her mouth to protest, but something in his voice made her pause. He wasn't mocking her. He genuinely believed that there was something wrong with her, something she had never thought about before.
"Okay," she said reluctantly, her shoulders slumping. "I guess I'll take whatever you've got."
Kiran's face broke into a wide grin, and he immediately turned back toward the dead creature. His hands worked swiftly as he began to carve pieces of raw meat, but this time, instead of giving it to her, he seemed to be searching for something.
Aarya shifted uncomfortably, her thoughts swirling. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt incredibly vulnerable. Kiran was right; she wasn't like the warriors here. She was small—fragile, even. She couldn't even bring herself to touch the raw meat, let alone tear into it like he did.
Moments later, Kiran returned with a handful of brightly-colored fruits—fruits that looked exotic, their skins covered in iridescent patterns that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.
"Eat this," he said with a proud smile. "Not raw. This food… softer. Better for you."
Aarya eyed the fruits warily. She didn't trust the alien-looking things, but at this point, she had no choice but to try. She reached out cautiously and took one of the fruits, feeling its cool, smooth surface in her hand. The scent was intoxicating—sweet, but with a strange, earthy undertone. She bit into it carefully, her eyes widening in surprise as the taste exploded in her mouth.
It was… good. No, great. The sweetness was unlike anything she had ever tasted, and the juice practically melted on her tongue. It was refreshing, almost soothing in a way that made her feel better immediately. Aarya finished the fruit in record time, her earlier discomfort forgotten as the hunger she'd been suppressing for so long finally eased.
"This is… incredible," she breathed, her eyes locking with Kiran's. "What is this?"
Kiran smiled, his eyes glowing with pride. "Food from the Orla'ak trees. Grow near the mountains. Nourishing. Good for weaklings like you."
Aarya didn't have the energy to argue anymore. She simply nodded, biting into another fruit.
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