Page 2 of Evan and the Alpha

They—whatever they are—have got me.

***

When I wake up, it’s because my head’s pounding. I feel like someone’s stabbed me. I cough weakly, then moan and roll over, curling up into the fetal position. I vomit, then try to force myself to lift my head out of the putrid mess.

I can’t. I screw my eyes shut, wrap my arms around myself, and try not to cry. I can hear Dad’s voice in my head, a sharp rebuke:crying won’t fix anything. It will only make things worse. I already feel awful. Crying will make my head hurt more.

“What’s he doing?” A sharp claw pokes at my arm, and I recoil. The voice is a low rumble.

I open my eyes again and force myself to look up at the creatures in the room with me. They’re standing over me; once again, the sun is behind them, casting their faces into deep shadow. I’m struck with déjà vu, and it dawns on me that I haven’t been killed and eaten.

I’ve been captured.

I look up again, then away, even as the bright light of the suns stabs me in the eyes. I keep doing that until my eyes adjust—somewhat—and I can make out the reptilian faces of my captors. They look like crocodiles—two golden eyes poking up on top of their heads, long, broad snouts that end in flared nostrils, and craggy teeth poking out. They’re blue, flashing almost iridescent violet in the sunlight.

Beneath their heads, they look more humanoid. They’re wearing what look like white skirts tied around their slender hips and sandals on their feet. They’re broad and muscular, bare on top. One is wearing a broad collar of something shiny—maybe gold or bronze—but that’s it.

The one wearing the collar sits down. “Greetings, sun spirit,” the creature says in a low rumble, lifting a claw-tipped hand. I stare at this crocodilian alien, unable to do much more. I understand every syllable—and that makes my brain want to leak out my ears.

How the fuck is an alien on a planet thirty thousand lightyears from Earth speaking English to me?

The creature continues, placing a hand on its chest. “I am Sobek.”

“Uh. Hi,” I manage, glancing around. I’m completely surrounded by hulked-out, bipedal crocodiles. Most of them are armed with spears—like they need anything more than their teeth or their claws.

I guess I’d better play nice.

Sobek doesn’t have eyebrows, but I think the creature would lift one if it did. I wet my lips, glancing around hastily. “My name’s Evan.”

Now they look more confused. I glance back at Sobek. “It’s nice to meet you?” I try.

Sobek squints at me, a hard stare and I think I might have messed up. “Did I ask you to speak, omega?” Sobek says.

Before I have a chance to figure out if I should respond, one of the other crocodiles tugs on Sobek’s arm. “Brother Sobek,” they hiss, “perhaps he does not know.”

“Hmph.” Sobek’s expression shifts subtly, but he still doesn’t look happy. “Tell me, then,” he demands, “are the rules different for sun spirits?”

“What rules?” I ask. I let my gaze flit around to the other aliens. They seem … maybe not mad? More curious. But the air is tinged with a kind of restlessness, nervousness. I think I finally understand what people mean when they say a situation is like a powder keg.

One wrong move from me, and I might be dead. “The rules about omegas,” Sobek insists, his golden gaze pinned to my face.

“I guess?” I scratch at the back of my neck. I have no idea what he’s talking about. What’s an omega? And why the heck does he think I am one? “I mean … we don’t have any rules about who can talk and who can’t.”

There’s some subtle whispering behind me. Sweat prickles the back of my neck. I focus on Sobek. His gaze is unnerving. Not only is it predatory, there’s something … ancient about it. Like he was here when the universe was born or something.

“Um, like, so … among my people, we just talk.”

“Hm,” Sobek says, like he’s considering that. He rises to his feet. “I suppose that is to be expected.” He turns around, and I have to jump back to avoid getting hit with his massive, dragging tail—just like a crocodile’s. I don’t think I do a very good job of hiding my grimace.

“Still,” says one of the other crocodiles, “he should respect our ways.”

“Yes,” comes a chorus of voices.

Sobek holds up a hand. “If he is to respect our ways, then we must extend him the same courtesy, my brothers. After all, one cannot expect the children of gods to do as we lowly mortals do.”

God? Fuck, they think I’m some sort of …?

Oh, this is bad. Really bad. I scramble to my feet. “Uh, hey. Sobek? Or—”

I lay a hand on his wrist and get summarily batted to the ground. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd. Sobek turns those reptilian eyes on me again, and I barely swallow my fear.

“My patience,” he snarls, “only extends so far, sun spirit Evan. Do not test me again.”

I nod meekly.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell them I’m not immortal or divine.