Chapter 22
Although the infirmary is not far from the main entrance, our pace is significantly slowed by Lowell’s worsening limp. Each time his bad leg touches the ground, he winces and sucks his teeth.
“Stop rushing me,” Lowell snaps at Guy, who flinches in reaction.
“Apologies,” Guy replies timidly.
I see Ginny frown at their exchange from the corner of my eye. She leaves my side to grab Lowell’s other arm to support him better — or to buffer his agitation towards Guy. I can’t tell which, but both are needed.
From behind, I notice just how injured Lowell is. The dried, crusted blood that clings to his pants spans down his back to his calves, other areas of his shoulders and neck indicating bruises and cuts.
The fall from the sandcycle must have been much worse than he let on. No wonder Ginny was furious, I think, chewing my lip.
When we enter the infirmary, Ginny barks orders at the lead nurses, using medical terms I’m hardly familiar with. By her tone and confidence, I can tell she has medical experience. It makes me wonder who she was in a past life, or how any of these people ended up here.
The nurses crowd Lowell, and Ginny only releases her grip after Guy backs away. The sterile room fills with Gaia 4 nurses bustling around to prepare equipment, their eyes widening every time they glance at a sweating, heaving, Lowell.
Multiple nurses struggle to hoist Lowell onto a bed, his brows tightening during all the movement. Nurses rush to clean and remove his bandages, placing a large needle into his arm with a bag of clear liquid attached.
I stand and watch, completely helpless and unsure of where to stand and what to do. I settle on turning away from the chaos to keep myself out of the way. No one has asked me to leave yet, but I doubt they even see me through the cluster of nurses.
“The nurses say you properly cleaned and stitched the wound,” Ginny says from so close behind my ear that I startle.
I lift my jaw to catch a glance of her, worry etched into her sun-freckled skin. It’s difficult to get a read on her when Guy’s not around to express enough emotion for the both of them.
“You had no reason to save him. So, why?” Her tone is blunt, but she keeps her voice low so Lowell will not hear.
I push my lips to the side, skeptical of the goal of her line of questioning. “He was dying.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t want to be trapped in a sweltering tent for days with a rotting corpse,” I say, scrunching my nose. “Is that enough for you?”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Ginny’s slight frown.
“You’re not a very good liar.”
A blush prickles my cheeks. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” I grumble, turning to face her while she stares blankly ahead. “After how I was treated, you should be grateful I cared for Lowell instead of letting him become another ornamental skeleton for the desert.”
Ginny shrugs, her tightly wound bun bobbing as she nods. “Oh, you certainly cared for him, alright.”
My mouth slips ajar.
Guy must have told her.
I slowly reach for the radiating bite mark hidden beneath my clothes, the scab pattern brushing against my fingertips. I pray that Ginny doesn’t notice my faint smile.
The nurses work quickly around us, explaining to Lowell what he should and shouldn’t do in the following hours as if he were going to listen.
“Prepare for surgery,” the lead doctor announces to the others. “The bleeding has been stanched, but the damage could affect his leg permanently. Bring the cart while I get dressed.”
Suddenly, a growl erupts. The room halts to silence.
Lowell waves the nurses and doctor away, his teeth showing. “This can wait. Leave and let me talk to May alone.”
A nurse begins to protest vehemently, but Ginny stops them.
“Give him some space,” Ginny urges, signaling to the nurse to leave without a word. “He’ll be okay for a few minutes.”
I step farther into the infirmary, Ginny’s skeptical gaze burning holes into my skin as the nurses begrudgingly push past me. They look at me with the same disdain Ginny does, as if I caused all of this. I did in a way, I suppose.
“Please allow me to stay and assist you, sir,” Ginny says, narrowing her eyes at me. Her gaze flicks to my shoulder, then back up again.
She’s worried he trusts me.
“No. Leave,” Lowell commands.
Ginny lifts her chin. “Apologies, but I don’t trust her, sir. Not alone, and not with you in this state.”
Whispering something in Ginny’s ear, Guy cowers behind her. She only lifts her chin further when he draws back.
“You don’t want me to ask you again,” Lowell rumbles, pushing himself into a sitting position. “I spent multiple days alone with her and came back alive, despite my injuries. You have no right to question me or my decision. Take the rest of the nurses and leave.”
Ginny balls her fists, souring.
“Gin, let’s just go, okay?” Guy whimpers, tugging her wrist. He doesn’t make eye-contact with anyone.
Lowell’s and Ginny’s dueling glares are nearly brighter than the sun itself, neither willing to back down. She is rightfully wary of me given Lowell’s prone position and the plethora of sharp medical tools strewn about, but her worry is misplaced.
With a defeated sigh, Ginny resigns. “You’re too soft on her, Lowell. To your own demise.”
Turning on her heel, she walks hand-in-hand with Guy, who remains sheepish in Lowell’s presence. Although he towers over Ginny, he presses himself into her like a helpless animal.
I make eye-contact with Ginny, her glare easing into a forced smile. The moment her back is turned to Lowell, she drops her voice to a whisper. Her mouth holds stiff so that no one will see her lips move, her jaw locked in place. “Hurt him and you’ll never see light again.”
I say nothing, her threatening aura enough to keep my words in my throat.
For some reason, I know what type of hurt she means, as if she understands the situation better than I do. There is not a person in this room who could win against Lowell, even in his condition.
Ginny bustles past me, knocking my shoulder as a warning.
The door closes behind me and I stare at my feet, my heart feeling heavy. “You need medical attention, Lowell. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”
Shifting his weight from arm to arm, he stays in an awkward sitting position. “I don’t like how we left things.”
I sigh. “Does it matter? In a few hours, we’ll never see each other again.”
A loud silence drifts between us, but I dare to look up.
Lowell’s gaze melts my heart. His eyes are soft and loving, devoid of the anger or rage I have seen from him this entire trip — or even the moments before with Ginny.
You’re too soft on her, Lowell. The words replay in my head, the connotation clear.
Butterflies in my stomach flutter.
I keep still, my fingers flexing against my bicep. Now is not the time for these feelings, even if they are difficult to ignore.
“Come closer,” he beckons.
Despite my better judgment, I tentatively step forward, unable to read his intentions.
“I’m not joining you,” I say while rolling my eyes, keeping him at arm’s length. “You can keep asking, but I’ll keep saying no.”
Lowell seizes my arm, jerking me to his chest. He descends his head to my ear, his snout blowing steamy breaths. His soft scales against my skin draw a sigh from my lips.
I’m embarrassed by how easily I give in to him, but maybe I’m soft on him, too.
“The only thing I love more than your eyes is watching them roll.” His slick tongues swipes across my lips.
A blush spreads across my face, his saliva hot and sticky. I moan softly when his tongues poke past my lips into my mouth, quickly retracting when they bump my tongue.
Placing my palms on his chest, I push him away, my knees weakened. “Enough. What did you want to talk to me about?”
His claws stroke my arm, his eyes the color of a rich pool of honey. I’ve seen this look from him before, and it sends a bolt of electricity down to my core.
“I never had any intention of talking,” he smirks.
I swallow, my pulse thundering in my chest. His skin on mine feels like molten lava, the waves of cold air from the vents brushing against my skin and hissing upon contact.
“Lowell… we shouldn’t—”
“Let me be selfish, yeah?” Lowell whispers, pulling me towards him again.
I hate how good his embrace feels.
“You’re always selfish,” I quip.
“I always make sure you finish, don’t I? Yet you cruelly call me selfish.”
I gasp, unable to stop a self-conscious giggle. “You’re a lunatic.”
“You knew that, and yet you slept with me anyway,” he says, his lips curling.
I turn with a shy smile, a giddy feeling filling me up through my fingertips. “It was a lapse in judgment. I thought we were going to die.”
With an unamused hum, Lowell presses a gentle kiss to my mouth. His lips are just as soft as before, the thin ribbons of skin smooth and cool.
My nose fills with his scent, an aroma so uniquely Lowell. I wish I could bottle it up and bring it back to Nilsan with me. The comfort it elicits is nostalgic and tranquil.
Hands clutch his biceps to steady me as I readily give myself to his kiss. A spark of lust ignites in my core, a moan slipping out each time his tongues licks my bottom lip.
I feel like I’m melting.
How could someone such as him make me feel this way?
Lowell’s movements are careful and drawn out as if he were savoring me like a fine wine. Before, he was aggressive. But now it feels… intimate.
As if we’re lovers.
My face is nearly boiling when Lowell runs a knuckle over my jawline, pulling himself away. I inadvertently groan in protest.
“I pray that in the future, our paths will cross again,” he whispers, a softness I wasn’t prepared for coating his words.
Removing his grip, cold air fills the space until it’s unbearably uncomfortable.
“For my own safety, I hope not,” I jest, placing my hand over the emptiness his grip left.
If you had asked me a week ago how I felt about the eco-terrorist Lowell, I would have told you he was nothing but an irrational, idiotic, aggressive animal of a man.
But now — while he’s still all those things — I understand how complicated his flaws are.
Despite it all, he’s a creature who loves animals, is good at braiding hair, enjoys sewing, and sees his overly expressive emotions as nothing but strength.
After everything, the one thing I no longer doubt is my affection for him. Or how much I’ll miss him.
I pull my braid over my shoulder, thumbing over it in remembrance. A nagging feeling tugs at my heart, ripping the slightest hole at the center.
Lowell picks up on this, reaching out to touch me but coming up shy.
“You okay?”
I open my mouth, but quickly snap it shut.
“You look bothered,” Lowell says, concerned. “If this is the last time we see each other, I suggest you come out with it. No sense in holding on to secrets.” His tone is laden with curiosity, his fleshy eyebrow piqued.
“Well…” I mumble quietly, so mortified my voice cracks.
Lowell narrows his eyes. “Huh?”
I clear my throat, covering my face with my hands. Every fiber of my being advises me to stop talking, turn around, and gracefully walk away without complicating the situation further.
But I don’t listen.
I reach out to Lowell’s chest as he follows my hand with an intrigued gaze. Landing on his leather jacket, I grip it softly.
“Despite everything that happened… I’m glad we met,” I begin, my face warming. “I thought I understood the world better than anyone else, and even held my opinion of such things in high regard. But now, I realize how truly intricate every decision can be. I’m grateful.”
The corners of Lowell’s mouth twitch, no doubt suppressing a smirk of superiority. “Ah, my wisdom made an impression on you, huh?”
I roll my eyes with a groan, my face fully flushed. “I’m trying to be sincere, Lowell. Given that you originally intended to kill me, you should be grateful I’m appreciative rather than vengeful.”
Lowell’s teeth glint with a smile. “You’re the one who should be grateful to me, you know.”
I shoot him an aggravated look. “How is that so?”
“I saved you, twice.”
“I also saved you.”
“You’re one to my two, therefore you should thank me.”
At this point, I can’t help but laugh at his juvenile bickering. “You’re such an idiot. Fine. Thank you, you insufferable ass.”
Lowell matches my beaming. He uses a claw to push a stray piece of hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear.
“It’s only been a short time, but I’ll feel your absence. Don’t make me regret sparing you.”
“Same, to you,” I say, pressing my cheek into his palm.
Lowell slides his hand away, allowing me to remove myself.
But I don’t. I keep clutching his jacket, blood boiling beneath the surface of my skin. I rub my lips together.
“Goodbye, Lowell.”
Lowell’s eyes soften, turning black as his pupils dominate. “Goodbye, May.”
His tone hits my heart like an arrow, my body turning cold while my brows furrow in a frown. Maybe I didn’t want to leave as I so desperately expressed before. All I’ve ever known was a life of rigidity, so unsurprisingly, a sudden shift into anarchic freedom rattles me to the point of nausea.
Or I would simply miss Lowell.
I mentally snort. There is no chance that that’s the reason.
Missing Lowell would be like missing the blade that hovers above my neck in a guillotine.
I bite the inside of my cheek, taking a few steps back to create much-needed space. If I linger any longer, I’ll collapse back into his arms. I know it.
Spinning on my heels, my heart constricts in my chest as if begging me to turn around.
I need to go home. Goddess willing, I reassure myself.
As my hand touches the knob, it turns without my doing. The door flings open, almost hitting me square in the face. A disheveled, terrified Ginny barrels past me.
“Lowell — oh shit — Lowell!” she yells, a stream of Gaia 4 soldiers rushing down the hall behind her.
Lowell sits up in bed, his posture freezing rigid. “Ginny, what’s wrong?”
Straightening, Ginny squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for impact. “They found us.”
Eyes wide, Lowell inhales sharply. “What?”
“They found us, sir. Nilsan found us.”