Lydia
He never left me. Not for the whole day. I didn’t want him to leave either, and yet, I didn’t want to be with him.
Deus brought me food and water. He didn’t attempt to speak to me. He was just there. All the time. A big presence, with the smell of spice and smoke. One hand draped over his raised knee, his freshly washed hair falling in silky strands around his handsome face.
It didn’t make things any easier.
It didn’t make them any harder.
I can’t remember a time when I was with a male of any species and didn’t feel on edge. But today, Deus left me be, provided care, and didn’t judge. He was simply there in the moment and nothing more.
Which hasn’t helped the thoughts swirling around my head all day. How much I am too damaged for him. How much I can only ever be second best. How this will never, ever work.
How much I would like it to work.
“Stay here,” Deus rasps in the dim light of the cabin. “I have something I need to deal with.”
I don’t hear him move, but when I look out, he has gone. There is a Deus-shaped hole in my life. I climb out of the deep pit and make my way into the main living area to grab my clothing, which I pull on quickly. Inside my bag, my comm device is flashing. I dig it out.
Kerra
Are you there, Lydia?
Darax and Dante are coming for you.
“Shit!” The swear escapes my lips before I even think about it.
Of course, I messaged them to say I was okay, but then I got caught up in other things. Things which were distracting in the extreme.
Now they are coming for me, and there’s no sign of Deus.
I can’t imagine this will end well. Not at all.
I move to the window, pressing my face against the glass, although it isn’t glass, it’s something else, but I’m trying to see anything, any sign of Deus or any other Sarkarnii.
Which is when I fall straight through, landing, very nearly, on my face, outside.
If I was a prisoner, I’m not now.
Outside, the air is humid, which is not something I’m used to here on Vorostor. It is heavy with the scent of damp dirt and a perfume of vegetation and flowers. My senses are initially overloaded, and I take a second to recover from the onslaught.
It has clearly been too long since I did anything outside the rarified atmosphere of the Sarkarnii compounds.
I push myself upright, my muscles taut as I scan my surroundings.
The glass, or whatever it is, on the cabin wall has been created so there is no internal reflection, I realize, as outside, the dim lights are just enough to take the edge off my limited night vision and not so good I can see what, if anything, is lurking in the bushes.
My back stiffens when I hear a crack somewhere nearby, like someone stepping on a branch. I feel like I need to run, and I expect to be frozen to the spot, like I always am.
But not this time. Almost without my say so, my legs move under me, and I find I’m moving swiftly down the lit path, not daring to look over my shoulder as I increase my pace.
I can see where the lights end and presumably the jungle vegetation continues, and although a vague warning sounds in the back of my mind about going into it, whatever is driving me to run and as the lights go out, I’m thundering through the bushes.
Of course, it isn’t easy. Vorostor has a moon, but it isn’t out tonight. When I’m plunged into darkness, I get my face whipped by leaves and smacked in the chest with branches, which slows my progress.
Eventually, and it doesn’t take long, I’m out of breath, and my muscles are screaming at me to slow down. I continue at an unsteady pace until finally I have to stop altogether to drop my hands to my knees and heave in the thick air.
Which is my second mistake of the night.
The first being to leave the cabin at all.
I’m violently jerked backwards by my ankle, releasing a screech of fear and pain as I’m hoisted feet first into the canopy.
I attempt to reach up to see what has me but I’m not flexible or strong enough.
I swing, head feeling both light and heavy as all the blood rushes to it, before once more I’m being hoisted higher.
It’s then I see it below me, my night vision kicking in with a vengeance, but only to show me all the horrors I never wanted to see.
A gaping hole, filled with what looks like teeth. This has to be one of the plants Deus mentioned. It is carnivorous and I’m going to be dinner.
“Help!” I cry out, knowing that even if it’s Darax or Dante who hear me, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is not being digested head first by a plant.
“Help!” My voice seems like a mere squeak of a mouse in this vast place.
I doubt very much help is coming. For once in my life, my instinct to freeze, to stay where I was, to become small and unthreatening, should have kicked in.
It did not, and now I’m going to be eaten.
I guess this mouse is about to squeak her last.