Chapter 24
Ani
Reuniting with Szhe’ka fills me with nothing but joy, but I can tell it isn’t the same for him.
There’s something strained in his expression, something tight around his eyes. Even his hums sound heavy. Mournful in a way that makes guilt coil in my stomach. As if this is somehow my fault.
Nothing about what happened was expected. I never thought we’d reunite at all. Part of me had already buried him. Buried myself. Does he resent me for leaving him for dead? What happens now?
The questions churn endlessly, and the only person who can answer them walks beside me in silence. A silence I prompted by shutting him out.
Fuck.
Ahead of us, Azoeul moves steadily through the trees. His presence is a constant reminder that whatever path Szhe’ka and I were on before the hunters interfered, it’s changed. I can’t help wondering where we were going. Where was he taking me?
“Szhe’ka,” I call in his language.
No response.
He trudges forward in his awkward gait, eyes fixed ahead, lost somewhere far from this forest. He’s rarely the distracted one. Usually I’m the scattered mess.
“Szhe’kaaaa,” I sing more playfully, tugging at the fingers I have wrapped around his.
This time it works. His gaze drops to me.
“Where are we going?” I ask in Azoeul’s language.
Speaking in song is beautiful, but exhausting. I’ve mostly been using Azoeul’s toneless language. It’s faster, and far less emotionally revealing. There’s no way to hide your feelings when every resonance betrays you.
Szhe’ka doesn’t seem thrilled about it, but he answers in the same language anyway, though his words are still just as clipped.
“To safety. For you. A place with others like you.”
He crosses his upper arms tightly around himself, feathers drooping slightly.
I’ve grown used to his body language. I can read him in the smallest twitch.
“Like me?” I ask.
Is there a separate place for him? Some strange alien refugee camp divided by species? The thought makes my stomach twist. I wouldn’t want to stay somewhere I can’t freely be around him. It reminds me too much of casting calls. Of being sorted and separated.
He turns away when he answers. “Yes. Your kind will keep you safe.”
And suddenly I understand.
He keeps looking at me and then looking away because of the bruises. Because he saw me naked and battered and touched by something filthy.
Heat floods my face. I feel disgusting. But beneath that is something worse. Guilt. He feels responsible.
If I’m honest, part of me thinks I deserved it. I was stubborn. Suspicious. I fought him at every turn. And yet all he ever tried to do was protect me.
The rapidly healing bruises on my skin are proof that he couldn’t.
I run my free hand up and down his arm. My eyes flick to my own fingers; to the sharp talons where my nails used to be. To the yellow creeping across my skin—darkening with each passing hour—because of him.
I can’t let him keep blaming himself, but I don’t know how to stop him.
“Is… Ree there?” I ask, trying to shift the subject.
“Yes. She waits.”
Relief loosens something in my chest. I finally get to meet the mysterious woman who may be the reason any of us are alive.
“Will you stay there… with me?” I squeeze his hand tighter. I don’t want to lose him again. Not when he’s barely healed.
“No. I will only drag you down. You will stay with them.”
The certainty in his voice hurts more than the words.
Caring about me doesn’t mean leaving me by myself, and it definitely does not mean telling me what to do.
I rub my hands across my face and I sigh.
I can’t believe it took being kidnapped, changed, and tortured by aliens to realize that, but I finally have and it hurts that I can’t stick my middle finger in my mother’s face and tell her to suck it.
I want to walk up to every single person who took advantage of me, of my looks, of my desperation, and kick them in their sensitive parts, but I can’t and it pisses me off.
I bring my wandering mind back to the present. Back to the argument I have to win.
“That’s not true,” I insist. “You risked everything to save me. How could you drag me down?”
“I let you get taken,” he argues.
“I went willingly to save you,” I counter. “You don’t get to carry all of it. These things happen.”
“Not anymore.”
The resolve in his eyes is frightening. A promise to himself. He would die for me.
I won’t let that happen.
Up ahead, Azoeul suddenly stops. He goes completely still, blending into the forest. Then he moves again, faster, darting through the trees like a shadow. Szhe’ka shifts into alertness instantly.
“Ani,” he says flatly. “Leave me. Find the human and the orange beast. They protect. You suffered enough.”
I’m done arguing, sudden anger lighting along my veins. “Go where you want,” I snap.
Before he can protest, I stride ahead. My heart pounds so loudly it drowns out the forest. I need space. I need air.
The breeze sends a chill through my still-healing body. Every step aches. I pray it’s the last time I ever take a beating like that.
I don’t realize how fast I’m walking until I reach Azoeul’s side.
“Sorry,” I say when he speaks. “Didn’t hear you.”
“I asked if you were lost in your thoughts,” he replies. “But I suppose I have my answer.”
I can’t help a small laugh.
The side of his mouth lifts, revealing sharp teeth. I interpret it as a smile. A few days ago, that would’ve terrified me. This planet has changed me. Inside and out. I haven’t processed any of it. I’m afraid if I try, I’ll fall apart completely, so I keep moving.
“I’m just tired,” I say, glancing at the darkening sky.
“I understand. What happened back there… it was—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say quickly.
He grunts softly and drops it. Guilt pricks at me for shutting down the same conversation again, but I’m too drained to apologize.
Eventually he sprints ahead again, disappearing into the trees.
Our walk continues in silence and as the adrenaline wears off, I slow down and linger behind him. I turn around a few times to make sure Szhe’ka hasn’t run off in an effort to leave but he just bumbles along tiredly, his eyes set on me and a flat expression on his face.
Szhe’ka catches up to me. When I turn and look, his eyes brighten, and my stomach flips. He offers me one of his hands and the rage bleeds out of me as fast as it came. I take it without hesitation.
The way my body reacts to him startles me every time; heat, awareness, desire sparking under my skin. Even his scent makes my thighs clench. And that terrifies me. Is it real? Or is it something the aliens did to me?
The thought lingers like poison.
Azoeul bursts from the brush. “I found somewhere to rest.”
He leads us into a shaded area behind a large boulder and I almost want to hug him.
It’s a natural grove located in the center of a semicircle of shorter, thicker trunked trees, which served as a sort of natural fence.
It is bare save for a couple of rocks haphazardly scattered around the general area but at least it is shaded and easily defendable.
I briefly acknowledge the luck I have had so far to have run into not one but two separate helpful aliens, I really would not have lasted anywhere near as long as I have if I had been by myself. My entire body hurts and I am more than ready to lay my head down for the night.
I could cry from relief.
“I’ll gather leaves,” Azoeul says. “Can you help?”
“I could,” I admit, “but I’m barely standing.”
He grunts and disappears again.
The wind blows and I cradle my knees to my chest, resting my head atop them and finally letting out a long sigh. As physically tiring as the day has been, it has been leagues more exhausting emotionally. All I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry myself to sleep.
“He where?” Szhe’ka’s harmony flows to my ears and I look up to see that he is in front of me.
“Gathering foliage.”
“Get more leaves, for the ground.” I respond and a mass of feathers drops to a sitting position in front of me.
When Azoeul returns, we build a fire together. As flames catch, conversation fills the space. I learn Ree is traveling with a Manticorid named Thivoll, searching for other abducted women.
She’s better than I am. I wouldn’t have gone looking. Szhe’ka tells Azoeul where he last saw Ree. Azoeul immediately offers to find her. Szhe’ka objects, but Azoeul is already gone.
Szhe’ka rises to follow. I block him with my body. “No. You need to stay here.”
If he had his wings, maybe. But now? He’d only hurt himself.
“I don’t like this,” he mutters.
“I know,” I whisper, crawling closer and resting my head against his arm. “But we’re finally alone.”
He stiffens for a moment. I begin to pull away, but instead he lifts me easily with two of his hands, lies down, and draws me against his chest.
I don’t protest. I need this.
The warmth of the fire and the steady strength of his arms wrapped around me like a shield. For the first time since I woke up on this planet, I don’t feel completely alone.
The world starts to blur and finally, I sleep.