Chapter 4
Jasmine
This was new. I chewed thoughtfully on what had to be the tastiest ration bar I’d had to date on this planet, perhaps ever.
It wasn’t quite chocolate, but boy was is it good.
He’d put all kinds of nuts and fruit in it, but also something that definitely carried the bar almost into candy bar territory.
Sweet, but not too sweet. As far as I knew, the naga didn’t enjoy or even taste sweet all that much.
I also knew the hunters prepared their own food and rations for hunting and traveling, so this had to be this guy’s special blend.
It revealed something about him but I wasn’t quite sure what yet.
Perhaps simply that he had different taste buds than his buddies.
“Now what?” I asked the miniature dragon still gnawing on one of my damp sticks from the gully.
I’d been trying to toss them now that I had drier wood, a lot of it, to pick from.
It looked like the little beastie had decided they were hers now.
That was a thing, if I recalled. Both Kiwi and Buzz liked to collect things for their nests back at Haven.
Though Buzz seemed to like discarded cables (or sometimes not quite discarded, yet) and Kiwi was very fond of soft grass and glittering stones, especially green ones. I guessed this one liked sticks…
“I can’t believe he’s gone to get food, and I’m pretty sure it’s food for you,” I said to the little dragon.
She paused mid-gnaw to raise her swirling mercury eyes toward my face, cocked her head, and then chirped.
That definitely said something about him, didn’t it?
He was so grumpy, and I could tell that with certainty now that I’d seen his face in the light of the fire.
Yet he’d gone out to hunt fresh meat for the sleara so she wouldn’t be hungry.
I hadn’t asked him to; it hadn’t even crossed my mind. He’d just done it… it was sweet.
Not so sweet was the patronizing way he’d double-checked that the camp location was safe before he approached, or the way he’d watched me from the bushes, thinking I didn’t know he was there.
He was just like the others, convinced I couldn’t take care of myself out here.
Granted, he had found me in the sorriest-looking state I could ever recall being in.
I was a bedraggled, soggy, and extremely muddy mess, and that was just what I looked like right now.
Beneath my clothing, I knew I was black and blue, my muscles stiff and sore, and though I was warming up, I was still too cold.
At least things had begun looking up. If I could keep my eyes open long enough, I might actually make it through the night.
With a full belly, I was definitely beginning to feel sluggish and drowsy.
Faintly, I worried these could also be signs I had a concussion.
I’d been out cold for some time while the raging mud wash had carried me along.
By some miracle, I hadn’t drowned, but I must have hit my head on something.
I gingerly felt along the back of my skull, through my hair, but the dry mud made my hair stiff and bumps hard to discover.
Frankly, my entire head ached, so going simply by where it hurt wasn’t helping me narrow it down.
I rose, joints creaking, and rolled my shoulders, shaking out my legs.
“First, I need an ample supply of wood to get through the night. Then, better shelter so I don’t freeze to death.
” I set out to do that, but I found myself glancing at the light in the sky in the distance.
That was very concerning, that beam of light blazing toward the sky.
North of me were wetlands, hills, and, I was pretty sure, the Serqethos Desert, until far beyond that, the North Pole.
Neither the desert nor the icecap of this world were particularly suited for habitation, so what was that?
I’d finished gathering the wood and begun cutting down branches already sprouting leaves this early in spring to lie on.
That’s when he returned. Silent as a wraith, I had to admit that his sudden appearance did startle me a little.
He was so big, too, compared to me, and his tail meant he made very different noises in the grass than a human or other two-legged creature might.
“I have returned,” he stated, holding a pair of feathered birds aloft, tied together with string at the feet.
Instantly, the tiny sleara lifted her ivory head and sniffed eagerly.
I eyed the birds, which were a little skinny after the long, cold winter.
The pair definitely wasn’t enough to feed all three of us, but it was too much for just the sleara.
“Thank you,” I said, dropping my leafy branches on the ground by the fire.
I saw his eyes dart to them, their eerie, slitted pupils contracting.
He was probably thinking I was an idiot, and that those weren’t suitable for burning unless I wanted a whole lot of smoke.
He couldn’t understand me, so I wasn’t going to explain my actions to him. It would be a waste of time.
He freed one of the skinny birds and offered it to the sleara whole.
The bird, though thin after a cold winter, was easily as big as the tiny dragon.
She did not seem to have an issue with this, eagerly pouncing and digging into the bird’s softer belly with sharp teeth.
I winced, seeing too much meat go to waste when resources were tight.
Half that bird still would have made a very good breakfast for me, but not after the sleara had her way with it.
She was not a clean eater, but thankfully she’d come to the naga’s side of the fire to feed.
My sleeping spot remained clean, or would, if I could get rid of more of the stupid mud.
Then I reconsidered. As much as it sucked, all that mud had dried on me by the fire, and it was adding a layer of insulation.
It was spring, but you wouldn’t know it from the way the temperatures had dropped now that it was dark.
To survive, I wasn’t too bothered about being dirty.
I changed my mind when my persistent naga companion began pulling furs out of his backpack.
Thick, lush, and definitely very warm. I looked at them, but I wasn’t going to ask. No way.
“Finish building your nest, female. Then you must wash, or these furs will get dirty,” he said, and he shook the biggest one enticingly.
“I know you can understand me,” he added.
The fur rippled, and the warm smell of male, spice, and leather drifted my way.
Oh fuck, that was probably what he smelled like, and I hated how much I liked the scent.
That hadn’t happened yet, I’d been so incredibly indifferent to every guy I’d met out here.
I didn’t need to find him attractive, even if it was simply his scent.
I picked up the waterskin he’d handed me before and jiggled it.
“It would be a waste of water; there’s just too much mud, and nothing clean to change into.
” He stared at me, his emerald eyes piercing from across the fire.
I could see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to figure out what I’d said.
His hands were busy, and so was his tail.
While he stared, he’d folded the furs across the top of his backpack, and his tail was busy plucking feathers from the second bird.
“There is no shortage of water,” he said eventually, cocking his head.
“I checked when I hunted; the nearby spring has survived the earthquake and grown into a sizable stream. You can empty the waterskin, and I will refill it.” Well, wasn’t that generous of him?
I wasn’t sure why I was feeling so hostile; I’d had no problem working together with the other hunters before.
They had treated me with respect, though I couldn’t help but feel like I had a whole lot to prove.
This guy? He got under my skin so fast, and he wasn’t even doing anything bad, not at first glance.
Perhaps it was the way he kept staring that unnerved me.
Injured and exhausted, I really wasn’t at my best to tangle with a stranger who couldn’t understand me.
He seemed quite insistent that I clean up, too, trying to entice me with the furs to do it.
Was that a ploy to get me naked? To get a glimpse of human skin?
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been expected to put on a show—or more—to please whoever I was with.
Usually, it had been clients I was supposed to give the wilderness experience of a lifetime, and they thought I came with the price.
That had been a matter of survival, and this was hardly different, was it?
The bottom line was, I could probably tough it out for a night in muddy clothes with just the fire for warmth.
One night, and then I could hike downhill to where the crashed ship was and get dry clothes and furs from the hunters there with absolutely zero strings attached…
“Wash, human,” he insisted again. The tip of his long, green tail coiled around the fire and jabbed at the waterskin.
“Take off your clothing, wash, and then warm yourself with my furs. The Serant night will get much colder still.” It was the threat that the temperature was going to keep plummeting that convinced me the furs were my best option.
I could be stubborn about this, but was gambling with the temperatures a risk I wanted to take?
He wanted a show? Well, I’d give him one then, damn it.
He could ogle this battered and bruised curiosity all he wanted, but I’d cut off his hands if he tried to touch.
With a huff, I stepped closer to the fire, and then I began stripping the dirty, muddy clothes from my body.
I was sore, scratched up in some places, and already turning blue in far too many parts of my body.
It was not a pretty sight, and maybe that would put him off so he’d leave me the fuck alone.
The sooner he got the message that I wasn’t interested in being his mate, the better.
I started with the stiff, crusted laces on my boots.
Once I’d kicked those off, I undid my belt and dropped it on the ground with a thud.
I did not like being that far away from my knife, but the fact was, it hardly mattered.
A small pocket knife wasn’t a defense against a full-grown naga male with scales like armor.
It wouldn’t do much against the predators out here either, like the Slithrazers I’d been told hunted in these parts.
My jacket was torn at the hem, made from thick leather the hunters had brought me, and stitched crudely together by my own hands.
It was the warmest article of clothing I had, but it looked dirty beyond salvation.
My outer layers came off with difficulty, but the inner clothes were less stained.
My undershirt was the one I’d worn during my “execution” by the UAR: thin white fabric that clung wetly to my curves as I pulled it over my head.
The sports bra beneath also had to go, and I yanked the zipper at the front down with a hiss.
Fury danced through my veins so hot I did not feel the cold.
Raising my eyes to him, I thought I’d find him staring, but he was gone.
When I’d started, he’d been on the other side of the fire, plucking his kill and preparing to roast it over my fire.
Now, only the little sleara was still chewing away on a bone, curled up in the spot beside the backpack he’d abandoned.
Confused, I stared, then turned my head and searched the dark forest around me. No sign, he was just gone…