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

Ketahn had been gone for, well…who knew how long? Ivy couldn’t really keep track of time like she had on Earth, not that it really mattered anymore. There was simply night and day. Because of the dense jungle canopy and the orientation of the nest’s opening, it was hard to tell the sun’s position most of the time. And she had no idea how long the days and nights on this planet lasted regardless—though they did feel a little longer than those on Earth. All she knew was that her body seemed to have adjusted well enough to this alien day-night cycle.

She sighed, lowered the half-finished grass basket she’d been working on, and looked out through the nest’s entrance.

Where is he?

Sunlight pierced the canopy in rays of gold, setting the multihued leaves aglow. Vegetation rustled in the soft breeze, beasts made their calls, insects buzzed, and birds sang sweet songs. If not for the alien wildlife, Ivy could easily have imagined herself somewhere in the Amazon rainforest.

She gathered her hair and swept it off her neck, moaning as the breeze flowing in through the opening caressed her sweat-dampened skin. With all the humidity, it sure felt like the Amazon. Her cheeks puffed out as she released a slow breath through her mouth.

“Though I’m definitely not some Amazonian warrior princess.”

She’d been on her own for six years before applying for the Homeworld Initiative. During that time, she’d endured cold, hunger, hopelessness, loneliness, and fear. Her training before boarding the Somnium had been hard in different ways—learning about things she’d never heard of before, undergoing incessant physical and mental evaluations, striving to be good enough in a pool of tens of thousands of applicants.

Yet nothing she’d faced in her life had been as difficult or trying as her time stranded in this alien jungle. Everything had to be caught, harvested, and crafted, and all of that required skills she never would’ve dreamed of needing. The basic survival training she’d received had barely prepared her for any of this—especially considering that the manmade tools she’d been taught to use were unavailable to her now.

But her time in this jungle had been infinitely better than any other point in her life—because Ketahn was with her. He’d been there to teach her, to guide her, to admonish and praise her. He was there through it all.

Ivy drew her hair over a shoulder and got back to work on her basket, determined to finish it before Ketahn returned, to show him her progress.

That desire triggered a heavy, sorrowful pang in her heart. Though the memories were fuzzy, she could recall a few times while she was very small—seven years old, at most—when she’d waited, brimming with excitement, to show her parents some an arts and crafts project she’d made at school. Wanting so desperately for them to be proud of her, to praise her. To tell her she was doing good.

They’d nodded and said things like good job, but even at that age she’d sensed their disinterest. She’d realized that they hadn’t really looked. That they hadn’t seen her art…hadn’t seen her. So, after only a few attempts, she’d decided to stop sharing such things with them. That felt better than their hollow, meaningless praise.

Even when she’d lived with them on good terms, Ivy’s parents had always been kind of…distant. They’d been loving in their own ways, she supposed, but it had never come through as affection, and it had never resulted in any sort of bond between parents and daughter. They’d put all their energy into their first child, Evan. Having already been fourteen by the time Ivy was born, he’d moved out long before she was old enough to get to know him; he’d made his own life before she’d even finished elementary school.

By that point, her parents had been ready to focus on themselves. Ivy had been unplanned for, an accident baby, and her parents hadn’t expected to raise another child. They’d given more of their time to their work, social circles, church gatherings, and hobbies than they’d ever given to her, but Ivy had been happy for a long time despite that. She’d dedicated herself to school and had been an excellent student, and she’d found a myriad of ways to entertain herself during those long hours spent alone.

Ivy had never resented her parents for their distance, but it had been especially hard as a teenager, when she’d been faced with so many changes. She’d never spoken to her mother about any sensitive issues, had never asked her father for advice. Her parents had provided food, clothing, and shelter, and she’d had to figure out all the rest.

So, when Ivy had attended one of the late-night parties thrown by her classmates and met Tanner, she’d been drawn in by his attentions. After a single night, Ivy had known he was the one she wanted to spend her life with. He’d been a few years older than her, but who cared about age? What was a five-year difference when she was going to be eighteen in a year?

Tanner had been so handsome with his wavy brown hair, his dashing smile, and his dark, dark eyes. He’d treated Ivy as though she were the most important girl in the universe. He’d made her laugh, had taken her out to eat, had gifted her pretty flowers, and had touched her in ways that made her feel so, so good—intimate ways that Ivy’s parents had told her were wrong. She’d reveled in it all and had been eager to reciprocate. Tanner had become her world.

After being with Tanner for a couple months—and thinking herself in love—she’d told her parents about him. They’d been livid and had forbidden her from seeing him. That had been the first time Ivy raised her voice to them in anger. She’d refused to listen, refused to live without Tanner. She could not and would not wait until she was eighteen; that was too long to go without seeing him.

So she’d run away, dropped out of school, and moved in with him. He was all she’d needed. He was going to take care of her.

Tanner had insisted on waiting until she was eighteen before they had sex. Of course, they’d done other things while they waited, but he’d always been very careful with her, had always held back. In her naivety, she’d thought it was because he was sweet and caring.

How naïve and stupid she’d been.

The truth was that he’d needed her to be of legal age to keep himself protected before he took what he really wanted.

Her first birthday surprise from him on her eighteenth birthday had been a paper to sign. He’d told her it was to add her name to the apartment lease since she was old enough, and she’d stupidly signed without reading a word—it had been hard to worry about the document and its legal jargon while he’d been kissing her neck and rubbing her shoulders.

Her second surprise had been far more exciting. Tanner had set everything up, and it had been so romantic—the soft flickering hololights, the rose petals scattered across the floor and bed, the chocolates. He’d wanted to make the night of her eighteenth birthday something she’d never forget, the night when they’d finally make love.

He’d simply failed to inform her that it had all been a ruse.

That there had been cameras in every corner, recording from every angle as Tanner had Ivy perform sexual acts upon him, as he performed them upon her, and finally, as he took her virginity.

Tanner had changed in that moment. He’d been rough, and it had hurt. He’d ignored her cries of pain, had even laughed as he used her body. Ivy had known the first time would be uncomfortable, but she’d thought Tanner would have been gentler, would have stopped or slowed down. He hadn’t. It was like…like he’d wanted her to cry.

It wasn’t until it was all over, after he’d come inside her and then on her, that he’d stopped. There had been no sweet words, no apologies, no kisses. She hadn’t felt sated or loved. She’d felt…used. Dirty.

After Tanner had withdrawn from her, his demeanor had become that of a complete stranger. As she’d lain there with tears running down her cheeks, he had told her it was over between them and he wanted her out. Confused, hurt, crushed, she’d sat up, pulled the bedding to her chest, and asked about her name being on the lease. He’d laughed in her face and informed her that she’d actually signed a waiver by which she’d agreed to forgo legal action.

Even more confused by that, she’d gathered her things—mostly just clothing—and left the apartment feeling utterly numb. She’d just reached the bottom of the stairs when the first text message came through from a once-close friend.

Wow. I can’t believe you actually did that.

Did what? Ivy had replied.

Ivy had discovered exactly what after her friend sent the link—Rough Cock Makes Virgin Teen Cry. Tanner had livestreamed their time together, and it was out there for the world to see. Over and over and over again.

She learned not long after that several former classmates who she’d thought were friends had discovered the livestream in progress and helped spread it around. By the next day it felt like the entire town knew.

Shamed, hurt, and alone, Ivy had gone back to her parents. But they’d already known, and what meager affection they’d shown her during her childhood had long since dried up.

Grass bent between Ivy’s clenched fingers. She blinked and hurriedly loosened her grip.

“Way to take a stroll down memory lane, Ivy,” she muttered, smoothing out some of the bent strands.

Regardless of how painful those memories were, Ivy’s prior thoughts were true. Ketahn had no obligation to care for her, provide for her, or teach her. He could have abandoned her at any moment. Heck, he could have eaten her that first night he’d found her. She knew it wasn’t always easy on him, especially with the language barrier between them, but he’d remained by her side. He’d encouraged her when she felt like giving up, he’d comforted her when she was scared, he’d taken care of her when she’d felt like she was on the verge of dying.

This strange spider creature, this wholly inhuman male, genuinely cared about her. More than any human ever had.

Ivy sighed and lifted the basket to eye level. Her brow creased, and she frowned. The basket was lopsided, with one side higher than the other, the weave was loose enough in some spots that she could have stuck her pinky finger through the gaps, and it was definitely not a circle.

“Not an Amazonian warrior princess or a basket weaver.” She sighed, lowered the basket to her lap, and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

And now she had to pee. She shifted on the fur to take some pressure off her bladder.

Ivy turned her face back toward the entrance. Ketahn had said he hoped to be back by nightfall, but would return sooner if he could. That could be five minutes, thirty minutes, or hours from now.

Like the other occasions when he’d left her alone here, he’d assured her she was safe. Nothing could get in but him. So far, that had proven true, but that didn’t mean her time without him was relaxing. She always found herself restless, anxious, and bored, and the beast calls that often echoed through the jungle still unsettled her even though she knew what creatures made many of them.

But she also spent that time alone worrying for Ketahn.

She spent that time…missing him.

As crazy as it was, she enjoyed Ketahn’s company. Ivy never lost sight of his alienness, but he was still a person. He was intelligent, cunning, kind, and even had a sense of humor.

She smirked as she recalled all the times he’d laughed at her mishaps. Well, he didn’t really laugh, not like a human would. He made this chittering kind of sound, but it was deep and rolling. It was…warm. He’d tried to mimic her laughter a few times, but the result had been stiff, unnatural, and decidedly hilarious. And even when he laughed, she never detected any malice from him—he’d just give her advice on how to avoid failure on her next attempt and praise her for the effort she’d put in.

“Where is he?” she asked again without meaning to speak aloud. “Ugh. Come on, Ivy. He’ll get back when he gets back.”

But what if he doesn’t come back?

Ivy swiftly shoved that thought to the farthest recesses of her mind. Ketahn would come back.

There was little with which to occupy herself here. After finishing her basket, she tidied up the nest, peeked into the pouches and baskets sewn into the walls, and nibbled on some goldcrests, the honeycomb-like mushrooms that were called huthaal’rok in Ketahn’s language. She debated starting another basket but one glance at her malformed previous attempt dashed that thought. Mostly, she sat by the entrance and gazed upon the outside world.

And tried to ignore the discomfort in her bladder.

She was this close—this close—to just sticking her ass out of the nest to do her business. Who was around to see her, anyway? She snorted at the mental image that thought presented. Not a flattering one, that was for sure. And she could just imagine her mortification if Ketahn decided to return at that moment.

Ivy leaned against the wall and let out a slow breath. With nothing else to do, she felt sleep tugging at her consciousness. She fought it—if only to entertain herself. Just as she was losing that fight and her eyelids were beginning to flutter, the gentle swaying of the nest became more of a jostling bounce.

She started, instantly alert, and withdrew from the opening. Her hand itched to reach for the spear near the wall, but she’d learned that lesson—she just needed to trust Ketahn. Only he could get inside.

The soft scraping of his hands and legs against the outside of the nest was familiar now, and it went a long way toward putting her at ease, but he was certainly making the nest shake more than he usually did.

He appeared at the opening, blocking out the fading daylight. For the moment he was silhouetted there, his form took on a menacing air, and he was a shadowy monster out of nightmare—but that nightmare no longer held any horrors for her.

Ketahn pulled himself into the nest with a huff and tore his bag off his back, tossing it aside with uncharacteristic carelessness.

Ivy frowned as she looked from the bag to Ketahn, who grumbled something she couldn’t make out and dropped his spear beside the bag. “Ketahn?”

He snarled, spinning to face her with his mandibles flared wide and his eyes glowing viciously. His front legs rose off the floor and his arms spread to the sides, claws splayed.

Ivy’s breath lodged in her throat, and she flinched back, bumping into the wall as her eyes rounded. Her heart stuttered, and every little hair on her body stood on end. Ketahn had never acted like this with her before.

Something flashed in his violet eyes. His mandibles drew together, their fangs clicking softly, and then drooped to hang at the sides of his face. Ketahn’s whole body sagged immediately afterward, all that threat and menace vanishing in the space of a heartbeat.

He strode across the nest to stand before her, took her wrists, and pressed her palms against his chest as his upper hands smoothed over her hair. All eight of his eyes closed. Ketahn bowed his head, and a soothing rumble vibrated in his chest.

Ivy’s brow furrowed. His hearts thumped against her palms. She curled her fingers slightly and rubbed at the hide of his plated chest. He shuddered and continued petting her hair, maintaining his loose grip on her wrists. Whatever tension he’d been carrying slowly eased. It was as though touching her…calmed him.

She spread her fingers wide as her own fear bled away. “Ketahn, is something wrong?”

“Everything,” he said. “Everything but this.”

Warmth blossomed inside her at those words. She stepped a little closer, tilting her head back to gaze up into his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stiffened, tightening his hold on her.

Ivy caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Now that her initial startlement had passed, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She continued stroking his chest. “You don’t have to, but sometimes talking about things that bother you can make you feel better.”

Ketahn opened his eyes and moved a hand to her cheek, hooking his thumb under her jaw to tilt her face more toward his. “You make me feel better, Ivy. And I will not trouble you with my utodok.”

“Where do you go when you leave me here?”

“To hunt. And to Takarahl, to give food.”

“Takarahl? Is that…is that your home? There are others like you there?”

“It is where my people live. There are many vrix there, and many more around the jungle.” He caressed the underside of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “But this is my home, Ivy.”

Ivy’s breath hitched, and a shiver swept through her. “What…what can I do to help?”

Ketahn leaned down, tipped his hard forehead against hers, and breathed in deep. Another rumble rolled through his chest. “Be you.”