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He groans again.
I freeze, turning to stare at Kvasaht. He's not moving. He's not. I watch for so long that my eyes ache with the intensity of my stare, but his chest never moves. Curious, I kick him again—and there's another groan, albeit smaller. What the fuck? Dimly, I remember some trivia about corpses letting out groans and burps as the gases leave the body. That must be this. With one more nudge of my foot just to make sure he's dead, I turn my back on him and settle next to Sessah, washing his face.
Sessah's handsome face looks as bad as my palms, I decide as I clean him off. Once I get rid of the blood, he looks better. One side of his face is bruised to hell, his eye swollen shut and a nasty-looking gash just below the plating on his brow, at his temple. There's another jagged gash on his scalp, just above his ear, and I dab it clean, pinch the edges together, and when I'm satisfied he doesn't need stitches, I take a few more strips from my tunic and wrap his head so the skin will have a chance to knit cleanly.
Thank god for the khui, I think as I trace Sessah's bruised face with my fingertips. It'll heal him faster than a normal man. This won't scar him. "We're going to be just fine," I whisper, running my fingertips over his lips. "You'll see. Just wake up and tell me you love me, and everything will be wonderful."
Sessah sleeps on, though. I sit by his side for hours, and when he continues to sleep, I decide I should clean up and get the dead guy away from us before he starts stinking. I get to my feet, wincing at how much my body hurts, and grab two handfuls of Kvasaht's battered, blood-covered clothing.
The moment I grab him, his corpse farts. Long, and low, and loud.
For some reason, I laugh. It's the most absurd thing in the world, and yet it somehow seems like a fitting sendoff for this absolute shit-stain of a being. "My thoughts exactly, buddy."
26
SESSAH
Something cool and wet is on my brow, easing the ache in my head a little. My thoughts are muddy, but I distinctly recall Kva-saht as he approached me and Sam screamed in terror. I remember him lowering a rock, and then nothing else.
I tense, testing my arms and legs. They are unbound now, and as gentle fingertips stroke my jaw, I dare to crack my eyes open. Sam sits next to me, stroking my face with a thoughtful expression. A little smile curves her mouth at the sight of me. "Just relax, Ses. Everything's okay."
"Kva-saht—" I struggle to sit up.
"Dead," she says, and keeps stroking my jaw. "You're safe. Just lie back, okay? I don't know how badly he hurt your head, but you need to rest and let your khui work on you."
"You…"
"I killed him," Sam says, her voice flat. "He was going to torture you to try to get you to tell him where our ship is, never mind that we don't have one. And then he was going to rape me. I'm sure once he found out we didn't have a ship, he probably would have killed me, too." She shrugs, her expression distant. "He was hurting you, so I rushed at him and pushed him. He fell on his knife, and instead of helping him, I finished him off. I killed him, Sessah."
I stare at her, shocked.
"Do you hate me now? Do you think I'm awful?" There is worry all over her bruised face, and this close, I can see the scratches from the stranger's claws. He must have gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him…or worse.
I try to sit up again, only for her to make an exasperated sound and push on my shoulders once more. She slides her hips over my chest, pinning me down, and leans over me. "What part of relax and rest is difficult for you to understand?"
"The part where my mate is hurt and I did nothing," I growl. "The part where she thinks I would hate her because she defended herself."
Sam's eyes fill with tears. "I just…I didn't see a way out other than to kill him. He was going to murder you, and I couldn't let that happen. I know I should have been the bigger person, but I couldn't."
Bigger person? "You will never be as big as he was, Sam. Your race is not made that way."
She laughs through her tears, giving me a wobbly smile. "It means I should have chosen to be the kind one, even when he wasn't. And I didn't. Instead of trying to be better, I killed him. Because I didn't see a future in which he would be part of our tribe, or happy on the beach. I just saw him hurting people. And I know you're disgusted with me because that's not what your people do. You're kind and loving and good and I'm just a shitty human who takes the easy way out." Tears roll down her cheeks. "And the worst part is? I'm not even sorry. When he hurt you, I wanted to kill him."
