Chapter 8
Jolene
When I woke, it was slowly, but not with any hint of confusion, like last time.
I was warm—cozily so—and my whole body was flushed with a deep sense of well-being.
Of course, there was also a hint of soreness between my thighs, and my toes still felt a bit itchy; a reminder of how close I’d been to losing them.
My head was pillowed on Khawla’s chest, my body covered by furs and coils of his long, sinuous tail.
It was honestly the best blanket I’d ever had, the perfect kind of give and weight, combined with warmth.
He smelled good, too—not like his seed or his arousal anymore, but still warm and musky, in a blend that seemed designed to appeal to my senses.
His hand was on my back, stroking softly up and down, so I knew he was awake, listening to me greedily inhale his scent.
I wasn’t sure what to say to him now, even though I didn’t have it in me to feel embarrassed.
I’d acted entirely out of character before, as if I were in heat.
It had to be a response to his body, his pheromones, or perhaps the seed that had spilled into the pool as we tangled.
Someone should have given him a warning label.
“We have to go soon,” Khawla said, breaking the silence before I managed to find the right words.
He did not move to rise, his arms growing tighter around me.
His breathing sped up, turning ragged when he added, “I will bring you to Artek and Nala. They can take you to Haven to find your friend.” The words hung in the air and sank into my brain slowly.
I was distracted, perhaps, by how distressed he sounded over this plan.
“Wait,” I said, lifting my head so I could look at his face.
His thick black hair shone with bluish hints, undone from its braid.
The leather eye patch was still in place; he’d never lost that, even in all the chaos of our crazy sex earlier.
He looked so alien, with his scales and the sharp, ivory pair of horns jutting from his chin.
Handsome too, rakish, and a little… well, like a man who’d finally let some of his wild side go free.
His one good eye glinted purple at me in the strange, artificial light of the crystals embedded in the ceiling.
He did not blink, just watched me with all kinds of secrets swirling behind that mysterious amethyst eye.
My mouth went dry as I looked at him, and that unreadable expression.
“We’re parting ways? You’re going to leave me with Nala, and that’s that?
” His expression might be all closed off, but mine was probably an open book.
I didn’t think I’d ever been this shocked about being shown the door after a romantic entanglement.
Normally, that was par for the course. If I even had time for a date, it was always over fast. I never made lasting relationships.
Somehow—though I couldn’t explain why—my heart seemed to think differently about this.
It was silly to feel attached to a man—an alien male—when we’d only had a day together.
Circumstances had thrust us together, and now he was ready to part ways; it was as simple as that. Yet it hurt anyway.
He held me as I began to rise, refusing to let me up.
“Yes, you must go to Artek, where you will be safe.” The words were said as if he were trying to convince me I wanted this, as though it were the only solution.
Suddenly, I wondered if he was as sanguine about the idea as his expression—or lack thereof—made him out to be.
I froze, watching him, hoping to see a sign, a hint, but there was nothing.
His hand kept me pinned to his body, still not letting me go.
“You must stay safe, and it’s not safe for you where I go,” he said—almost pleaded—in a gruff, husky voice. Only then did he release me, but now I wasn’t so sure I wanted to retreat. Keep me safe, huh? That seemed important to him, even though we barely knew one another.
I stayed in his arms, watching him, trying to figure this out.
It was easy to admit that I already trusted him, trusted him in ways I’d never trusted anyone else.
With my body, at least, but did I trust him to make decisions about my future?
I couldn’t deny that being brought to Nala played exactly into my hand, though, so why did it feel wrong?
What was I supposed to think? When in doubt, I suppose I should focus on the plan: save the other ladies on the ship, perhaps even all the humans.
He was the one who rose, slipping away like water.
He moved silently as he left the furs, his tail uncoiling from around me, his gaze turned away.
Every scale along his back was big and jagged; protective plating.
They weren’t glossy but a muted, matte dark blue that hovered on the edge of turning gray or perhaps purple.
When I squinted, it felt like more colors swirled at the edges, but they weren’t there if I truly looked.
“Get dressed. We must go fast.” My companion had turned brusque and quiet again, very different from the sounds he’d made and the things he’d said to me in the heat of passion.
My whole body flushed with heat as I remembered that, and even though I could admit that I’d acted out of character, I did not regret it.
So his seed, mixed into the water, had a potent effect on me, the result was the same.
I’d wanted to jump his bones from the moment he’d kissed me, and he’d kissed me within five minutes of meeting, so that said enough.
Rising from the furs, I began locating my clothing and slipping into it.
The shirt was torn at the front, thanks to his sharp claws, but I could tie it together.
By the time I’d stomped my feet into my inadequate footwear, Khawla had packed up everything else.
That wasn’t all: he’d cut a hole through one of his furs and thrown that over my head, then tied it in place with cord.
For my feet and legs, he fashioned very crude shoes, also tied in place with string, but it was much better than nothing, even if they were just circles of fur tied around my ankles.
I felt clumsy and slow, swaddled as he had me by the time he was through, but I didn’t object.
I’d need every single bit of protection out there.
Having fur wrapped around my legs and tied in place like crude pant legs was a last resort, but it was effective.
I felt confident that I wouldn’t freeze to death this way, though it was a rather bold fashion statement.
Most of his furs were a shade of lavender or purple; I’d never worn this much purple in my life.
But as we left the bathing-house area and headed into the dark tunnels, I quickly got used to the improvised layers.
I really thought that meant I was prepared for the cold on the surface, but as we reached the mouth of the tunnel, it slapped me in the face.
My breath misted in front of my face, and the cold air burned my mouth and throat as I inhaled.
I had to tug the furs over the lower half of my face so they could warm the air.
Not a good sign. This was supposed to be the end of winter, hadn’t Khawla said that spring was coming?
This didn’t feel like spring, not even a little.
My Naga companion took one look at me as we stepped into the cold, faintly violet-hued world of snow and ice.
He swore, and then he was tossing down his pack and shrugging out of his tunic.
It was over my head before I could so much as begin to form a coherent sentence.
He also tied a scrap of fur over my head in an improvised cap and sternly warned me, twice, to tell him if I was getting ‘dangerously cold’ again.
Only then did we set out on our journey to a distant mountain range where the Shaman supposedly lived.
I tried to keep up with his sinuous grace—I really did—but without his clothing on, he wasn’t just faster than I was; he was hard to see.
It was like his odd, matte scales took on whatever was next to them and just blended.
Perhaps that was because everything outside was painted by a violet sun, now watery and thin, veiled by pale clouds.
Be it soft gray, purple, or vaguely blue, his scales matched it all, and everything outside matched him.
The snow came up to my knees, but the leather and fur around my feet repelled the water.
I slogged through, trying to pick out any trace Khawla had left, but there wasn’t one.
I’d follow his voice or get startled when he suddenly appeared next to me, urging me on.
I kept my eyes mostly on the distant mountains for direction, because I was certain my Naga protector kept slipping away to scout ahead.
It was obvious I wasn’t moving fast enough for him, even though sweat was beginning to slick down my spine from the workout.
My thighs burned, too, not used to this much resistance when walking.
We were going uphill, then downhill, through bare woods—sometimes thick and dense, and sometimes open and exposed.
The mountains did not appear to be getting any closer, and each time I looked over my shoulder, the tracks I’d made seemed like a great scar in the snow, a deep furrow drawn by a clumsy, left-footed idiot.
When Khawla abruptly appeared next to me just as I’d circled a big boulder in my path, I nearly fell over from surprise.
I wobbled, and would have gone face-first into the freezing snow if not for his hand reaching out to catch me by the arm.
Immediately, a golden glow began to spill from the savage slashes across his chest and down the front of his tail.
The warm light was tempting and pretty, enticing me to stumble closer and curl into his heat.