Chapter 14
Carla
It’s dark as hell in here. It makes no difference if my eyes are open or closed. For a moment there after Magma left, I very nearly clawed my way out of this dark space.
It’s terrifying in here.
I’m forcing myself to breathe slowly. Reminding myself that there is enough air and that I can get out whenever I want to.
I’m fine.
I’m safe.
At least the feral Red males can’t get to me in here.
I don’t know how long Magma’s been gone. Long enough that I’ve gone through every terrible thing that’s happened today at least three times. I also went through all the good things that happened.
Something moves outside. A low rustle, slow, with pauses in it that the wind doesn’t have.
I go completely still, my fingers curling into the dirt beneath me.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
What was that?
I’m sure it’s nothing. A night critter or one of those enormous bugs I refuse to think about.
Or it could be one of them trying to sniff me out.
I get goose bumps all over my arms and have to force myself to breathe slowly all over again.
I’m fine.
There’s another rustle right by the tree, and I picture one of those huge, red-marked males crouched right outside, head tilted, scenting the air the way the one in the clearing did before he came at me.
I picture clawed fingers working through the brush at the entrance, finding the gap, finding me, and then I picture the rest of it and have to stop, because if I keep going, I’m going to start screaming.
I’m fine.
It’s all good.
I’m safe.
Magma will be back soon, and no one will find me.
I press my lips together. My heart is slamming hard against my ribs. Every breath feels too loud, so I slow it.
Think happy thoughts.
You’re fine.
You can do this.
You’re going to get through this. And get back home. You’ll go on that date with Flint. It’ll be magical and fun.
Something brushes against the leaves at the entrance, and every part of me locks up at once. I suck in a breath because that didn’t sound like a bug or a critter.
“Carla. It’s me.”
The relief is so enormous I almost laugh. I press a hand over my mouth instead and then exhale so that my body sags against the dirt.
“Magma.” His name comes out shaky, but I don’t care. “Oh, thank god.”
“I’m going to clear the opening. Stay where you are.”
Branches scrape and rustle, and then a thin gray slice of night sky appears where solid black used to be, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Moonlight filters down through the canopy.
“Come on. Give me your hand.”
I crawl toward the gap and find his hand waiting, huge and warm, and let him guide me out into the open. My legs have gone stiff, and I stumble the second I’m upright. He catches my elbow and steadies me.
“I found us something,” he says. “Come sit. It’s not much, but it’ll do.”
He guides me a few feet from the tree to a spot where a fallen log makes a kind of bench, and I sit. Even with the moonlight, I can’t see much more than shapes. Magma is a solid outline. I can’t see his features as he sits right next to me on the same log, giving me my space.
“What did you find?”
“A few things. There’s a guava tree not far from here, and some kind of nut I recognized as edible.
The shells are thick, but they crack easy enough.
And these.” Something heavy and round is pressed into my hands.
“Coconuts. I found a couple of them. The water is nutrient-dense and will work well at quenching our thirst.”
“That sounds amazing.”
My throat is dry. My lips feel like they might crack open.
I run my fingers over the smooth, ridged surface of the coconut.
“How do we even open these? I’ve seen people on the Mainland try with knives and machetes and still mess it up.”
“Watch. Or—” He huffs out something that’s almost a laugh. “I guess you can’t really watch me, since it’s dark. I can get it open for you.”
There’s a soft grunt, and then a crack, sharp and clean, like a knuckle popping but ten times louder. Something splits. He presses the coconut back into my hands, and I find a rough opening at the top, liquid sloshing inside.
“Go ahead. Drink.”
I don’t need telling twice. I tip it back and do as he says. It’s slightly sweet and the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I don’t stop until I have to come up for air.
“Better?”
“So much better. Oh, my gosh. You’re pretty strong to have opened that with just your hands.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Dragon strength has its uses.” There’s something lighter in his tone now, something that wasn’t there before. “Here. Hold out your other hand.”
He places small, round shapes into my palm one at a time – guavas, I think, soft enough that my fingers sink in slightly when I squeeze. Then something harder and rougher, a nut of some kind, already cracked open.
“I can’t see what I’m eating,” I say, half laughing. “This is a weird way to have dinner.”
“Bite into the soft one first. The guava. You’ll like it.”
“I have eaten guava before,” I tell him. I bite into the fruit and moan around my food. “Oh, my gosh. That is delicious. It’s much better than the ones we get on the Mainland.”
I moan again as I take a second bite. It’s juicy and so incredibly sweet.
I hear him eating too, the soft sounds of him working through whatever he gathered, and for a few minutes neither of us says anything. We just eat, side by side on a fallen log.
“Thank you for this,” I say eventually. “I mean it. I don’t know how you do all of this.”
“It was part of our training to learn to find food in the jungle.” A pause. “My father used to take me hiking when I was young. He taught me how to live off the land. We got lucky today. This part of the jungle is abundant.”
I turn the second coconut over in my hands, listening to the liquid shift inside.
“Do you still go hiking with him?”
“No…he’s old now. I am lucky to still have both my parents. I visit them often, but there isn’t too much walking anymore. They’re in their nineties.”
“What? No…you’re kidding me.”
He chuckles softly. “Yep. I’m the youngest of six children. Five girls and then me. I’m forty-four next month…an old fuck.”
“Nonsense. Forty-four isn’t old at all. Excuse me for saying, but you don’t look forty-four.”
“Forty-three. I’m not forty-four yet.” I can hear in his voice that he’s smiling.
I smile back and roll my eyes. “Sorry! You don’t look forty-three. I can tell you take excellent care of yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with so many muscles. Your arms are like tree trunks.”
He chuckles again, and I like the sound. “Thanks…I guess.”
“No, really. You don’t have a single gray hair. In fact, most women I know would kill to have hair like yours. You look great.” I’d better stop there. I’m starting to sound like I might be interested in him, and it isn’t like that. “Are you mated to anyone? Do you have kids?”
“Are you asking me that because old people like me are supposed to be mated with children?”
I can still hear the humor in his voice, but there’s also an edge.
“No…of course not. I just thought I would ask. I don’t know much about you, aside from the fact that you head up Security Central, you come from a big family, and you’re highly skilled in combat and foraging for food. I’m just interested, that’s all.”
The quiet that follows stretches out long enough that I start to regret asking. I open my mouth to take it back, but he speaks before I can.
“I had a mate, but she died.” His voice is steady, but there’s something underneath it, something worn smooth by time. “It was before we could have any kids. We hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“I’m so sorry, Magma. You don’t have to—”
“It’s fine.” Another pause, shorter this time.
“It’s been years since Sage died. I should be able to talk about it.
I can talk about it. I couldn’t for a long while after.
She was a frontline dragon, like I was back in the day.
She was good at it, too. Better than most of the males I commanded, if I’m honest.” A faint warmth creeps into his voice.
“She used to say she’d retire the day we decided to start a family.
We’d talked about it for ages. We had a date picked out, even.
She was going to start a desk job in a few months.
It was her last leg of duty.” He stops. “There was a skirmish with the Reds. She was killed saving a teammate.”
I don’t say anything for a moment. There’s nothing I can say that won’t sound small next to that.
“That’s awful,” I finally manage. “I’m so sorry. And now, with the borders open and the treaty signed, it must be quite tough. I know the end goal is to have Draig Dragons and Reds living side by side.”
“It is tough.” He doesn’t try to dress it up. “I’m trying to keep an open mind. I really am. From what I’ve heard, I think most of them are decent enough. But then today happens, and it doesn’t exactly help my case for giving them the benefit of the doubt.”
“No,” I agree, “I guess it doesn’t.”
We sit with that for a while, the jungle filling the silence around us with its endless small noises. It’s strange how quickly I’ve gotten used to it. This morning, every one of those sounds would have had me jumping. Now they’re just background.
“I take it you never took another mate?” I ask, even though I am prying. I can’t help it.
“Nah. Not for me. I had a mate, and now she’s gone.”
I frown. “That’s so sad. You’re a nice guy. You deserve a second chance.”
“Do you want to settle down? To have kids?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard, but only for a second.
“Yeah. I do, actually. I’ve always figured it was something for later, you know?
Like a someday thing.” I stop myself, then push through it anyway.
“The thing is, I’m turning thirty this year.
I guess that’s been creeping up on me more than I realized.
Maybe it’s time I actually start thinking more seriously about it instead of just assuming it’ll happen eventually. ”
“Thirty is not old,” he says, and there’s a thread of amusement in it. “You’re a baby.”