Ignoring her question, he bumped another piece of bread against her lips. Too scared to refuse, she opened her mouth and allowed him to place it on her tongue. His fingers briefly touched her lips and she tasted salt and some unknown exotic spice.
Something fluttered low down in her stomach. Nerves, it was nerves. It had to be nerves.
"Zyrgin warriors are strong. Strongest in many galaxies."
"Uh, okay." Why was he telling her that? If he meant to intimidate her, he'd already succeeded.
He continued to feed her small bits of bread buttered just right. A couple times, she almost choked, swallowing pieces whole in her haste to finish the bread and get away from him. The seriousness with which he concentrated on his task would've been endearing in a human male, but it scared her when an alien holding a wickedly sharp knife did it. He fed her another piece then wiped her mouth with careful strokes of the cloth he found on the table.