Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I groan. Her memories are raw and strong and I want all of them. Or…we could make new ones. I think of how she came to me in the pit and straddled me, claiming me for her own. I never thought such a thing possible, and I am fascinated by it—and by her. She is like no other female and I am glad she is mine. Shall we mate?
Her thoughts immediately turn disapproving. “Your back is raw and red. You need to lie on your stomach and stay there for a while. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.”
My back does ache, but I am more displeased that she does not like the thought of more mating. I want to touch you, I tell her with a growl. Even now, need for her is a slow-building, hungry ache. I want to claim you and remember it.
“I want that, too,” she tells me tartly. “But I also want you to stop bleeding and ruining my hard work.”
So fierce. I am amused. I will do what she wants…for now.
I am weaker and more tired than I realize. I fall asleep again as she bathes my wounds, and doze throughout the day. I wake up a few times and she pushes water into my hands, insisting I drink. I do, and listen to her thoughts for a few minutes. It is comforting to hear the sound of another mind connected to my own, especially one as practical as hers. She sits, sewing a torn shirt together and hums to herself. Her thoughts are busy and full of things that need to be done. There are traps to set to catch food, more supplies she needs to get, and more medicine for my back. She waits—impatiently—for the red dragons to stop flying overhead so she can get to work, and her thoughts drift between her tasks and back to me. She frets over my wounds, I can tell. It is both an odd sensation and a pleasant one. I should be protecting her, taking care of her, and yet she is the one that has control.
I like that she worries over me, though.
I drift into sleep again, and when I wake up, it is dark. The air drifting through the broken windows in the strange human nest no longer carries the scent of distant female dragons. Once, I might have been fascinated at their mating rage, but now I think only of my Emma and the way her face colors when I suggest mating to her. She is fascinating. I want to learn all of her responses. My Emma works nearby, setting up strings of empty cans across doorways and tripwires. Booby traps, she calls them. They are for our protection.
Who taught you to make these things? I ask her.
Jack. I’ll tell you about him sometime. Her thoughts grow more distant and I realize she is outside the building, digging in the dirt. Do you like vegetables?
The mental image she sends me is not a pleasant one. Do you mean…plants?
Yup. Someone’s got an old garden here and there are a few carrots and a rubbery little zucchini or two, but I can make them into something tasty. If you’re not a veggie-saur I’ll eat them. Her thoughts fill with pleasure at the thought.
You may have all of them, I tell her. And what is a veggie-saur? Her thoughts seem strange, and when they flash through my mind, I am confused. Is that…a dragon with no arms and no wings? Your people have dragons?
Actually I was thinking of a T-Rex, but he’s a carnosaur. A veggie-saur is more like a brontosaurus, and our planet doesn’t have dragons, no. Those are dinosaurs and they died out millions of years ago. But they were big reptiles.
Did they have two-legged forms, as well?
No. Hm. Are you guys dinosaurs? I mean, back on your planet, what was the wildlife like? Do you remember?
I think for a moment. It was very tasty.
She is startled and then amused. Yeah, I guess it would be. You’re hungry, aren’t you? I’m bringing back dinner. Just be patient. I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to fill that dragon belly of yours, but we’ll see.
What are we eating? I am curious. She is providing for me?
Roadrunner soup. Yum yum. They’re kind of like skinny chickens. You’ll like it. She sounds pleased.
I will like anything you provide for me, I assure her sleepily.
She sends me a wave of affection. You rest up. I’ll be a bit longer and I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat. You need to regain your strength, Zohr. You lost a lot of blood.
I want to protest to her that I am strong. That I do not need to rest. But her thoughts are sweet and calm and I find myself relaxing into them.