by Lily Graison
She smiled, hung on tighter and closed her eyes as that heat coursing through her body warmed every inch of her soul.
By weeks end, Toren was still trying to make up for what happened with that creature. When he wasn’t feeding her, he was fucking her silly. Not that she was complaining. It wasn’t every day a girl was pampered, fed as if she were royalty, and loved so thoroughly even now her legs felt shaky. She was seriously beginning to wonder if you could die of pleasure.
Toren was outside the cave entrance banging on something. For once, the huge rock blocking the cave was pushed away and bright sunlight flooded inside. She crawled to her feet—testing her legs for strength—and grinned. Still wobbly but strong enough to hold her weight.
She slipped on one of the shirts from the pile of clothing near the wall and crossed the cave, squinting into the sun when she stepped outside.
The trees seemed to go on forever. In the distance, she could make out a body of water, its surface sleek, black glass from here. The mountains ran for miles and unlike the tallest mountains back on Earth, these towering peaks weren’t covered in snow but rings of red and black, the great summits of rock sitting beneath the pinkish-blue sky.
To the right, she could make out lush, green vegetation. Was that the jungle she and Marcy had run through? The moment she thought of her, she wondered where she was. Had something grabbed her? Had she gotten away and made it back to the ruins?
Movement toward her left drew her attention. Toren was surrounded by nets and baskets. She crossed to where he was, her stomach flipping over itself when he gave her a look that said he wanted to eat her alive. Moisture dampened her thighs at the thought. She’d yet to wake from sleep and not found him between her legs. It was certainly a better wake up call than that annoying alarm clock her dorm mate let blare half the morning back on Earth.
Toren stood and kissed the end of her nose. “There are fish in the stream. Want to come help me catch some?”
The question was just him being polite. She had no doubt whatsoever, had she said no, he would have gone back inside the cave with her without another word. He’d not left her side since that thing that walked in and attacked her. If he did, she didn’t know about it.
They collected the water pouches and one of the baskets and Toren carried the net he’d been messing with as they headed to the stream. He pointed out the sidra roots and showed her how to dig down to get to them. The nosha leaves he’d chewed into a paste for her cuts weren’t easy to find. They grew near the mossy underside of rocks, most times hidden by leaves and sticks.
The blue critter she and Marcy had startled out of the underbrush, and Marcy wanted to keep as a pet, was called a thaper. As cute as it was, she could only close her eyes and pretend it wasn’t as Toren threw a rock at it so hard, it had tumbled when hit. How he managed to hit it as it ran would forever be a mystery. His hand-eye coordination was much better than her own. More amazing than his aim was the fact he’d killed it with nothing more than a rock. Of course, if he had strength enough to push what amounted to a huge boulder in front of the cave entrance, why did she doubt he could throw a rock with enough force to kill an animal as small as that thaper?
The stream was a lot more serene looking than the river the dragon had dropped her near had been. Here, the trees looked a lot like those at home did. Had she not known better, she’d think she was on some mountain ridge on the Blue Ridge Parkway the way the water gurgled over rocks and fallen limbs. The air was cool and the scent on the air was clean and fresh and she inhaled deeply to take it all in.
Toren tossed the net he’d taken from the others into the water and pulled it back before walking deeper into the stream and doing it again. She watched him for a few moments then waded in calf deep. The rocks here were red and black, much like the mountains were and small fish that were as unusual looking as the aliens she’d seen swam in small clusters. She didn’t think to wonder if anything in there would bite her until she saw something swim by with what looked as if its entire face was made of teeth. She looked at Toren. He didn’t seem concerned about anything in the water. The tooth-faced fish swam by as if she wasn’t even standing there. If that thing didn’t want to take a bite out of her, she doubted anything else did.
Sara walked across the stream, stooping to pick up small shiny rocks she saw, until a rustling in the trees drew her attention. She looked up the bank on the other side and scanned the forest. A small movement behind one of the trees next to the stream made her freeze. There was something there. Or more than likely, someone.
She took a step back, then another, her heart starting to race a bit. “Toren…” The word was barely a whisper, her throat tight with sudden fear. A splash of water, then a rumbling growl filled the air. Was that Toren or the thing hiding in the trees?
Toren stepped in front of her an instant later. The muscles on his back were knotted and taut. His hands were fisted and that growl she’d heard was definitely coming from him.
“Show yourself!”
The shape she’d seen earlier still hovered behind the tree. A head peeked out a few minutes later before it ducked back out of the way.
“If I come to you, it will not end well.”
It stepped out from behind the tree a moment later and Sara couldn’t tell if it was male or female. It stood on two legs and its skin was so pink it looked almost translucent. Tall, wide ears stuck up from the side of its head. Round sunken eyes were framed with boney protrusions and its nose was somewhat flat but flared on the end in a half circle. It looked a bit like a pale, man-sized—wingless bat. It wore nothing but pants. Snow white hair hung nearly to its waist and it had no breasts but something about the shape of its mouth made her think it was female, but when it spoke, the voice was a deep baritone that clearly said it was male.
“No harm intended. Passing by is all. Didn’t mean to startle.” It looked through the trees behind it, then back to the water and held up some sort of pouch sitting near its hip. “I fill with water and move on?”
“No. I’ll not have you near my mate.”
Sara could hear that rumbling growl in Toren’s chest again. He didn’t trust easily. Seeing how something had already attacked her twice, she could understand why.
Grabbing his hand, she tugged on his arm. “Let him go, Toren. I don’t think it means us any harm.”
“I do not.” It bowed its head a bit in her direction. “In no shape to fight. Injured days ago.”
He answered her. She grinned and said, “You understand me?”
“Of course. Your species, not one I know, but all fitted with translators when exiled here.”
The translator. She ran her fingers behind her ear where she knew the Big Head’s had put something. She had no trouble understanding Toren or this—guy/girl—but Toren still couldn’t understand her. “Can you understand what he says,” she asked, pointing to Toren.
“Yes.” His head tilted a bit to one side. “You cannot?”
“I can, but he doesn’t understand me. I don’t think he has a translator. Is everyone not fitted with one?”
“Yes.” He stared at Toren and tapped his ear. “Do you not have translator?”
Toren shook his head. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Implant that allows understanding of languages.”
Toren turned to look at her. “No. I do not.” He looked back at the creature by the stream. “Where can I find one?”
“Most translators implanted but seen a few handheld. Where you find one, I know not.”
Toren turned and lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the stream, setting her feet back on the bank. He did not let go of her, though. He draped one arm around her shoulder. “You may refill your water pouch.”
The creature nodded his head. “My thanks.” It walked closer to the stream, his steps slow. Sara saw why when he reached the edge of the stream and bent down. Nearly the entire length of its back was torn open.
She gasped and gripped To
ren’s arm. “You’re hurt.” She made a step toward the stream before Toren grabbed her and pulled her back. “Who did that to you?”
It looked up, pain filling its eyes as it bent near the water’s edge. “Enforcers. They raid camp not far from here. They look for females. Not enough for arena fight at month’s end. The chase unsuccessful as most females killed by those trying to claim them.” He glanced at her quickly but looked away. “You stay close to him. They take you they find you.”
Toren’s hold on her tightened. “And they will die for trying.”
The creature filled its water flask and sat up on its knees, pain filling its eyes. Sara looked up at Toren. “Will the nosha leaves help?”
Toren looked across the stream. “What did she say?”
“Something about nosha leaves.”
He nodded. “Yes. They will heal your wounds. Do you have any?”
“Never heard of them.”
Toren looked surprised. “Their healing properties have been known for centuries.” He grabbed the basket they’d put the nosha leaves and sidra roots in. “You ground them to a paste and cover the wounds.”
“You’ll need help,” Sara said. She took a step toward the water but Toren’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “How is he supposed to put that on his back?” She looked back at the creature. “I’m sorry.” She blushed. “You are a he, right? I can’t—“
It smiled. “I am either.” It stood, closing its eyes and grimacing as pain distorted its features. When it opened them back up, it said, “My species adapts to what is needed or desired, but you may refer to me as male if it suits.”
Sara wasn’t sure it suited her or not but thinking of it as a he was better than an it. She smiled. “All right then.”
With Toren’s permission, he crossed the stream but kept his distance from her. Sitting by the water’s edge, Sara was able to see his back clearer. His flesh was ripped open and oddly, green blood oozed from his skin. “What did they beat you with?”
“Tail. Tip is barbed.”
“Oh.” Toren pointed to a rock not far from where he stood and Sara sat down on it, keeping her distance as she knew Toren wanted. “What exactly is an enforcer? What do they look like?”
“Large flying beasts with gray and black scales.”
She sat up straight. “A dragon?”
“No. Not exactly.” Toren handed him a handful of the leaves and told him to chew them. With his mouth full he said, “Enforcers are species called wyvern. They two-legged with wings. Dragons four-legged with wings. You only find the wyvern’s here, though. Dragons die out centuries ago.”
“Not all. One captured me when I tumbled from a cliff.”
He had no eyebrows but something about the way it looked at her said if he did, they’d be raised in question. “You saw a dragon?”
Toren spit out a mouthful of the nosha leaves and put them on the creatures back and it stiffened and clamped its jaws down tight, pain once again transforming its features.
Sara said nothing more as he and Toren chewed and spit the leaves out and covered his back. By the time they were done, the sun had begun to lower in the sky.
Toren washed his hands in the stream and the creature stood. “My thanks.” He bowed his head at them both before straightening. He grabbed his waterskin, draping it carefully around his neck. “I will remember kindness shall we meet again.”
He started to walk off, back across the stream and Sara called after him. “What is your name?”
“Utan.” He bowed his head again.
“I’m Sara and this is Toren.”
Utan nodded and looked to the trees. “You know of—“ He paused, stared at them both for long seconds, then said, “Much talk of place hidden, a—sanctuary—enforcers and eyes that,” he looked into the sky and pointed. “Flying machines that see all, not know about. Called by many names. Others talk of finding it. Is where I go. Welcome to follow.”
“No.”
Toren didn’t even take a moment to consider it, not that Sara was surprised. If she had to guess, she’d say they’d spend the rest of their lives isolated and alone. It wasn’t a bad thought. Having Toren all to herself was nice but not ever having anyone to talk to would eventually drive her bonkers.
Utan bowed his head again. “As you wish. Again, my thanks for help.”
Sara watched him until he disappeared into the trees. He was the first person she’d had a real conversation with since she’d been separated from Marcy.
Toren walked back up the stream a ways to where he’d left the fishing net and once again tossed it out. She wondered about the sanctuary Utan had mentioned but knew asking Toren was useless. Now that Utan was gone, they were back to one-sided conversations. As much as she enjoyed being here with Toren, knowing he’d never be able to understand her left her a bit melancholy. She watched the water rush over the rocks and wondered where they’d be able to find one of the handheld translators for Toren and how far they’d have to go to get it.
Chapter Twelve
Toren couldn’t get the sanctuary Utan had talked about out of his head. Was he talking about Dra’lera?
He held Sarra’s hand as they walked back to the cave, the basket of small fish and sidra roots and what was left of the nosha leaves in the basket tucked under his other arm, his thoughts so consumed he nearly walked right past the cave entrance. Sarra tugging on his hand snapped him from his musings.
She smiled and gave him a questioning look before rattling off something in her odd language. He missed the stranger for no other reason than he could tell him what his Sarra was saying. Envy filled him a moment later knowing that creature had talked with his mate and he could not. He squeezed her hand, then let it go, setting the basket down to move the rock from the cave opening. Sarra said something as the rock rolled away. She was smiling when he looked over at her. She grabbed the basket with one hand, his arm with the other and squeezed the muscle there. Was she talking about his strength? He smiled. If that impressed her, he’d have to show her more.
The fire had died to glowing embers. It took a few minutes to get it blazing again. He’d cleaned the fish by the stream so, while Sarra was storing the nosha leaves and sidra, he sat the heating rock in the fire and laid the fish out to cook. He’d eat it as is but Sarra had made a gesture as if she was going to be sick when he suggested it. She liked her food cooked, so he’d take the time to cook it for her.
She settled on the pallet bed a few moments later and said something to him. When he looked her way, she pointed to her mouth, then her ear, then out toward the cave entrance. Talking to her was much like a game now. She’d make gestures and he’d try, unsuccessfully most of the time, to figure out what she meant. He thought he knew what she meant now, though. “The translator,” he said. Her smile was blinding, her head bobbing up and down as she nodded. He turned the fish and sat down on the pallet with her. “There are a few camps nearby but I have no way of knowing if they have one or what they even look like, for that matter. If I were to see one, I’m not sure I would know what it was.” She frowned. “There’s also getting into the camp without being seen.”
He’d flown in last time, but Sarra had been injured and he’d not cared who saw him but wouldn’t risk it now. Utan’s mention of the wyvern had caused the fire in his chest to burn hotter. Their kind had betrayed the Draegon and now that they worked for the ones who invaded all those centuries ago, they’d take great pleasure in capturing him and in doing so, Sarra would be in danger of being taken by anyone who found her.
He stayed lost in thought until the fish was done, then cooled each piece and let Sarra eat until she’d had her fill. He ate what remained even though cooking it had burned away most of the flavor.
Sarra washed her hands and face and laid down, staring into the fire. Neither said much after that, each lost in thought. The things he’d taken from the camp were neatly stacked in one corner, the rock covering the entrance blocking out the fading sunlight and even though t
he cave was dry and warm, it wasn’t good enough for his Sarra. She deserved paradise. She deserved Dra’lera.
He’d made his lair high in the mountains so he could see the world as he slept but the majority of his people had been hidden away deep within the mountain surrounded by lush greenery and food plentiful enough none ever went hungry.
He looked over at Sarra. Her eyes were closed, her hands tucked under her cheek. The sorry bed she slept on wasn’t enough to cushion her body from the hard stone floor of the cave. The clothes she wore were two sizes too big and—
Toren ran his hand through his hair. This was not what he wanted for her. For them. Hiding out in some dank cave. Living in fear someone would see her and try to take her from him. She needed to be somewhere she was safe to roam as she wished and could be happy. She didn’t seem unhappy with their current situation but he didn’t want to give her time to rethink being with him. For her to think someone else may give her more than he could.
The wood on the fire popped. He stirred the coals and braced his arms on his knees. They couldn’t stay here. As shelters went it was suitable but it was no home. It wasn’t good enough for his Sarra. Neither was his mountain lair. She’d be safe there from any who sought to take her but she’d also be trapped.
He looked back at her and watched her sleep. If Utan was heading to Dra’lera then it meant people were still there. Maybe his people were still there. The thought of other dragons surviving filled him with sudden hope. He’d not seen his brother since the war. He had no idea if he even still lived but if he did, Tharius would no doubt find his way back there and come morning, so would he.
Sunlight streaming into her face, and the sound of things shifting woke her. Sara blinked and shielded her eyes before turning her head completely. Toren was near the cave wall, the basket they used the day before by his foot. He was stuffing things into it.
She leaned up on her elbows and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “What are you doing?”
