CHAPTER EIGHT
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Fin
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MY SHOULDER THROBBED with every move, yet I refused to slow as I dug away one rock after another blocking the top of the entrance. For every stone I removed, two more slid into its place—it seemed half the mountain had come crashing down upon us.
It mattered little—I would not stop. I had given my word, and a Varool never lied, never deceived. I would work until I dropped.
It is prudent. We must have a fresh supply of oxygen.
Yet far more than mere logic drove me or even simple survival. The ache in my mate’s voice haunted me. I would save her from reliving this trauma.
Jones stood behind me, ready to accept any rock small enough for her to carry.
She moved them to the side of the cave, which had already shrunk to little more than a passage.
Her shoulders drooped, and pain and fatigue weighed on her small frame, but she uttered not a word of protest. Perhaps these humans were not as weak as we thought, or at least not in spirit.
I pulled a larger stone from within the small tunnel I had made at head height. Smaller stones clattered, and a wash of cool, damp air flowed over the skin of my face. I turned toward her and handed her the rock. “We are through.”
Tension melted from her face, softening its lines. “Really! Oh, god, that’s wonderful.”
“Let me ensure the opening will not close, and we will cease for the night.” There had been almost no light to see—it was night, and lingering storm clouds blocked the light of the moons.
“Shouldn’t we keep going?” she asked.
I shook my head. “We must eat and rest.” I could keep working, but she was clearly at the end of her endurance.
“Okay.”
Using my good arm, I reached into the hole, shoving rocks from my path. Once at its full extent, I made small circles, bending my elbow as much as possible to sweep away the gravel continuing to fall from above due to my movements. When no more stones fell, I carefully withdrew.
“That should hold.” I walked over to retrieve my jacket and scabbard. “Come. We will spend the night in the larger cavern.”
The animal darted forward as soon as I moved the boulder obstructing its path. It bleated and circled Jones’ legs a few times.
“Hey, there, Billy. It’s okay. I’m still here.” She crouched and petted it until it calmed, then looked up at me. “Where do you think its parents are?”
I almost said, “Under the pile of stones,” but I stopped myself. While highly likely, it was still speculation on my part, and there was no need to cause her further distress. Yet I also could not bring myself to utter a platitude that might prove false, so I grunted and edged into the passageway.
A scuff of sound—they followed.
I hung my jacket from a jutting protrusion so that it lit the entire space, then I crouched to refill the water bottle.
After giving it a quick shake to activate the purification system, I handed it to Jones, who squatted beside me.
“Finish it.” We were both dehydrated by now, not having stopped as often as we should in our drive for an oxygen source.
She didn’t protest, putting the rim to her lips eagerly and tipping back her head. Her neck lengthened as she swallowed, and I wanted to flick out my tongue and taste the salt of her skin. Away from the rock dust, her smell surrounded me in sweet musk, made all the richer by her exertions.
My zural heart pounded to life, swelling my hurvon.
Jones handed me the bottle, and I forced myself to refill it so that I could drink. The cool, clean water tasted sweet—but not as sweet as she would. I drank a second bottleful in a poor attempt to distract myself.
“We should eat.”
She nodded and pulled food blocks from her pockets. Her hands moved quickly, and her voice quavered slightly as she held up one of the silver packages. “I ate some of this one—it’s really hard to chew.”
“That is because it is a concentrated ration. We have a device we use to reconstitute them before ingesting.”
“Oh.” Then she grinned. “At least you guys don’t have super jaws, because that would be weird.”
Super jaws? My translator chip struggled to find any additional meaning for the words. It was not important.
I reached for the block. “We can use the water bottle to make a slurry.”
Jones hesitated, her eyes flicking to the animal at her side. “What about Billy?”
I grunted and dug through the rations, finding one containing porridge. “This is a simple grain dish he should be able to eat. Can you find a rock with a depression that forms a sort of bowl?”
She hopped up and walked the perimeter of the room, the small animal trotting in her wake as if she truly were its dam. Once she found an appropriate stone, she brought it to me.
I peeled the silver foil from the porridge, smashed it to break up the block, and poured water over it. “Since we lack heat, it will take a while for it to soften.”
I opened another ration of prokshu, a popular meatloaf dish, and crumbled it into small enough pieces to fit in the half-full water bottle. Then I gave it a good shake to dissolve it even further.
The goat-lope strained forward, having scented the food. Her hands wrapped around its small body, and she laughed. “I don’t think Billy wants to wait. Hold him for me?”
The small animal weighed little, but his hooves were firm as he squirmed in my arms. I pressed a finger to his tiny forehead and stroked. He was no hunting hound, but he calmed, his furred body stilling as I held him to my chest.
Jones pulled her blaster and adjusted a setting on the side. Only the faintest glow came from the end as she pointed it at the porridge and ran it back and forth. A small curl of steam rose from the beige mass, accompanied by the smell of spalur spice.
Her stomach growled even as mine gave a pained lurch. Billy resumed his wiggling. It seemed we all needed to eat.
She released her hold on the trigger. “That should do it.”
“I do not think I can adjust a varoolian blaster to such a low setting,” I said.
Her cheeks darkened. “Yeah, well, human ones aren’t supposed to go that low either, but it’s a handy hack, so...” She gave a self-conscious shrug.
When I set the animal on its feet, it bolted over to the stone, lipping at the cooked grains.
“May I?” I offered my hand.
She hesitated for only a second before placing her weapon in my palm. A frisson of shock ran through me—it was a great sign of trust.
I pointed the end into the open top of the water bottle and depressed the trigger. The blaster was a little small, and my finger barely fit, but the meaty smell of the prokshu soon filled the air as the bottle grew warm.
Once I turned off the weapon, I offered her the bottle. “Your dinner.”
She tried to shove it back to me. “You go first. You worked a lot harder.”
“No!” Every instinct I had demanded I provide for my mate. “You will eat first.”
Jones took the bottle and tipped a portion of the improvised stew into her mouth. Her eyes widened as she chewed and swallowed. “It’s so good!”
Pleasure eased the tension of my muscles as I watched her devour the entire meal.
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Once we had all eaten, I cleared the last of the small stones from the center of the cavern’s floor. It would not be the most comfortable of beds, but we were both too fatigued for such to prove much of a problem.
The coolness of the air became apparent now that I no longer labored.
I shrugged back into my uniform jacket, my shoulder protesting the movement.
Varool healed quickly as a rule, yet so much heavy lifting immediately following the injury had delayed matters.
I would need to drop into a healing fugue as I slept so I could clear the remainder of the rock fall tomorrow.
Jones watched me with careful eyes, her small frame beginning to shiver.
I lay down and patted the earth beside me. “Come. We will keep each other warm.”
She curled her back into my front, and the animal settled at her side.
The sweet scent of her surrounded me, and my secondary heart raced, filling my cock until I thought I would go mad with it.
I ground my teeth together. Remember, she is human.
My body did not care that her people were adversaries—it wanted only its mate.