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I could probably walk for half a day in some direction and find some sort of civilization… but what then?
If I call Shak, will he help First? Or just execute him? Shak is a good guy, but First is right, Shak is fierce to protect his family. And here First is, planning open treason. Of course Shak would have him executed.
So? I’ll be free. And it might seem barbaric, but these are their customs, and I never asked to be involved in any of this. I was kidnapped for God’s sake!
So morals are only for when it’s convenient, is that it?
No. No, they aren’t. I’m not my father.
So I stay. And what will be will be. Either First will get better or he won’t.
Sleep is the best remedy I can think of in lieu of, ya know, antibiotics, so when he gets restless and cries out, I climb into bed with him.
He immediately pulls me close like I’m a body pillow, and then he lays one of his massive legs over me, effectively trapping me in place. And he is hot. Like there’s a furnace burning inside his chest.
I try to pull away, immediately regretting my decision, but he only clings to me tighter. And the thing is, he’s immediately settled. No more shouting or anguished murmurs. He’s breathing heavily but evenly. And I am tired. Exhausted really, by trying to care for him and keep him hydrated, and well, the stress of everything else, too.
So, in spite of the personal sauna I’m now wrapped in, I fall asleep, too.
Thirteen
FIRST
She is in my arms. She is small and breakable and, as if it was a dream, I recall when she climbed into the bed last night.
But when I blink my eyes awake, she is still there. I extend my tongue to taste the air and my entire body relaxes at the smell of her. She is sweet, like the wildflowers on the Zizek mountains in springtime. There has been so little sweet or soft in my life and she is both. This sweet, soft, breakable thing.
I have need of expelling my bladder, but I do not want to jostle her while she sleeps, peaceful and quiet for once instead of angry and yelling at me.
These human women are strange-looking, naked like mice without scales to cover their skin. I was appalled by all the fur that sprang from their heads when we first captured images of the creatures. But now… I experimentally rub Giselle’s hair in between my fingers, and I must admit, her fur is so very soft.
Suddenly, her bright blue eyes flash open and she looks up at me from within the crook of my arm. We have shifted throughout the night. She’s ended up cradled in my arm, her head on my chest.
Her eyes are at first alarmed, as if she’s confused about where she is, and then they clear and she springs back from me.
I am sorry to lose the pressure of her against my chest.
“First,” she says, then she leans back over me, pressing her flat palm to my forehead. Her face scrunches in concentration, and then a smile breaks out over her features. “I think your fever’s broken!”
“Fever?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “You’ve been sick for days. Almost a week. I was scared you were going to—” But then she stops, as if cutting herself off. “Anyway, it’s good that you’re feeling better. You should try to take a shower today. I’ll see if there’s anything I can get us for breakfast.”
She moves as if to leave but I grasp her wrist to keep her from going.
She rolls her eyes. “Not this again. First, if I haven’t abandoned you while you were out of your mind sick, I’m certainly not going anywhere now that you’re better.”
That has me blinking. And frowning. She did not leave me while I was ill. I release her wrist and she lifts off the bed and I hear her making noises in the other room. But they are not noises as if she is fleeing.
Because as I just realized, she could have easily fled while I was ill.
I frown harder and throw off the bedsheets. I am not one to stay abed sick. As I do so, I look down and see bandaging on my shoulder and neck, the opposite side of the one she was sleeping against.
Striding to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, I yank off the bandaging and look in the reflective glass.
Which is when I remember my little prisoner’s original foolish flight and how I saved her from the mountain feline. I could have roasted the large cat with a blast of my fire if I had not spent it all earlier in the night, attempting to provide for my mate. But as it was, I’d had none left to spend.
