AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The dream I’d had had seemed so vivid. It was of her, of course. She’d been receptive at last, and somehow things had worked between us in a dream-like fashion—and as I extricated myself from the web I’d set around her, I could taste the scent of my own leavings on the ground, finding I had released in real life exactly as I had in my dream—only in real life, my mate didn’t want me.
I didn’t know if I should wake her up.
What if she was having blissful dreams of mating with some other creature?
I would not want to disturb her from that, if so.
So I busied myself making new garments forher, and preparing materials for a fresh cast—I wanted to get inside her current one and see how her bones were healing.
I had more energy than I had prior, and that was because of her and hereating.I also went and picked up the hollowed-out head of the Nanuruck and hauled it away the way we’d come, so she wouldn’t see it when she woke.
By the time she did wake, she seemed rested.
“Good morning, my love,” I told her, and pretended that she understood me.
“Good morning, Niiiiannnen,” she said back at me, and it made all of my fluids soar. She looked around, at the clothing I’d made for her, how I’d cleaned all of our surroundings—covering up any scent trails either of us might have left—and then looked to me. “We need to talk.”
I twisted my head one direction and then the other. “What do you mean?” I asked, knowing without the translation device she would hear it as gibberish.
She blew air through pursed lips and seemed to be considering her options before looking back at me. “I really want to fuck you.”
It took all of my will to remain still at that point. Odes could’ve been written in the Great Web about Nia’n’an and his epic personal strength.
I’d almost outed myself as understanding her the prior night when we were eating, but she hadn’t noticed—and now that she was going to tell me things like that, I didn’t dare.
“But I shouldn’t, because, like, none of that’s real. None of it. I don’t know if it’s Stockholm Syndrome, like if mypussy would’ve decided to fuck anyone that rescued me, or if I got hit in the head a few too many times when they were dragging my ass down here—or maybe it’s all the drugs that I did from the ages of sixteen to twenty-five?” she said, shifting uncomfortably in front of me. “All I know is that this is not a thing. Which—is not your fault, by any means. God,” she said, with some finality, before sighing. “You’re in for it now. Here’s me with the talking.”
I wished I could have told her that I longed to hear all her words.
“I just feel weird when I’m around you,” she said, pulling herself up—no, closer, to the bag, to where the end of our water was. I pulled out the bottle and handed it over to her quickly. “Thanks,” she said. “And I can’t tell if I like that,” she went on, and it took me a second to connect it to her prior statement. “I don’t know if I like anything, really?” she said, and made a thoughtful frown. “I think maybe the actual problem is that I don’t like myself.”
It broke my heart to hear her say that, but in no way shape or form could I let on. All I could do was hold up the clean silken sweater I’d made for her to let it speak for me.
I wanted it to say:I love you. I love you very much. I will love you enough that you never have to doubt yourself again.
All you have to do is find me worthy.
She looked from the sweater to me. “Clothes, yay,” she said, then snorted. “But really, thanks,” she said, shucking off her current top. I averted my eyes, though she didn’t seem bashful. She took the new sweater and pulled it on. “And pants too? Who says shopping isn’t the same as therapy?”
I lether relieve herself and then covered our tracks before she got back onto my thorax again. She’d left her tiny skirt behind, and I felt much better about her now that she was wearing things I had made for her. I wanted to provide her with everything she needed.
I just wish she needed me.
Not just physically, on a survival level—but the way I needed her, twined in mind and soul.
We traveled for half a day, and it was easy going, through smooth lava tunnels that had generous clearance and only slight variation in tilt. I let her down to relieve herself again, and once she’d gotten back on board we walked into a narrower cavern with a high ceiling.
She snapped a few times, listening to it echo, then started singing, and nothing in my former life could have prepared me for the beauty of her voice.
I wished she would sing for me for eternity.
And when she began adding in words, it somehow made the moment even more magical.
“In the heart, of the night, where secrets entwine—a dance in the shadows, a mystical sign.” She repeated the phrasing for a bit, until she liked its rhythm and flow, before continuing. “Her pulse syncs with the beats in a world so surreal, when the touch of a spider is all that she feels...is real? No, feels is better....”
My all eight of my legs almost buckled when I realized she was singing about me. It was all I could do to continue to act normal, like I didn’t understand her, as she continued.
“In the glow of the moon, when our souls undress, in this dance, with love’s chance, in your web, I confess?—”
