Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
NORA
She couldn’t let Airik go. Not as the suns’ rays flashed through the hut’s planks, bending around them as hours passed.
Not as Airik’s heat returned in full force, made worse by the way his back flexed against her breasts as he shifted a little while he slept.
Not when Lucky got up to eat from the dead beast.
Eventually, she did rearrange them so she sat with her back against the wall, with Airik’s upper body between her legs, his head resting on her chest.
She wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders, listening to the world move around them. Unearthly birds and insects. Her own foot tapping the ground, worried for a man she’d only known for a few days, whose head nestled between her bare breasts.
Something inside her broke as she was forced to sit and wait.
And Airik’s heavy weight was the only thing keeping her from falling into that black tar pit where her worst fears lay.
She’d spent years wanting to be dead. So it was disorienting—the shift catastrophic—that now, when death was a possibility because she’d never survive this wilderness alone, she would rage so fervently against it.
Why did he still sleep? Surely the effect of the antihistamines couldn’t be so strong.
“When I woke up on your ship, I thought it’d been another mistake,” she confessed, knowing he couldn’t hear her.
“That I was supposed to die, but something went wrong and I didn’t.
But…I’m not so upset about it anymore.” She dipped her nose into his hair.
“I only just met you, but I’d like to know more.
Like, why do you smell like raspberries—my favorite food? Won’t you wake up and tell me?”
Tears fell in his hair as her pleas went unanswered.
Every so often after that, he’d rise suddenly, muttering words.
Some she recognized, like gracias. He’d turn his wobbling head from side to side, searching, until he found her.
His eyes would brighten, and he’d give her a dazed smile.
A small one, as if he were still unsure.
Then, as if everything had become too much, he’d sigh and fall against her breasts again, nuzzling between them until comfortable.
Nora would freeze, hoping he wouldn’t notice they were both practically naked as his arms wrapped around her hips, holding on as if she were an anchor.
“Airik?”
He turned his head toward her breast, his breath warming the center of her chest.
Oh, fuck, she thought, squirming. His size and weight, even unconscious, made her feel safe and good. Her belly fluttered with an inappropriate want. He was unconscious—this was only survival.
She grabbed her now dry shirt just in case.
The motion must’ve upset him because he squeezed her with bruising strength, making her stop. He let out a little moan, his nose brushing her nipple. An electric bolt shot into her lower belly. The effect he had on her…and he wasn’t ever really allowed to touch her.
Refocusing on keeping Airik warm, Nora dropped the shirt and swallowed her desire, locking any remnant of it safely away behind the knowledge that she was a master at ruining lives—including her own.
It astounded her that every part of him was beautiful. From his hair, which shimmered as if spun from silk, to his nose and lips, perfectly human in shape yet beyond perfection in form, to his skin, which wasn’t really skin at all but more like a thick hide.
Despite the strength of his skin, he was covered in dark, silvery scars—the worst on his right arm.
It spanned the entire length of his arm, spiraling from the inside of his wrist, up his inner arm, and tapering and fading at his elbow.
It was thick, with dozens of tiny bumps along its length from where it must’ve been crudely stitched together.
How odd for a space-faring society. Couldn’t they do better for him?
“What happened to you?” she said, raising his right hand so she could see his newest scars. The ones from the seta’s scratch.
They were already healed, leaving raised welts like four molten metal bars threaded into his skin. A painful reminder of the human he’d saved, who had nearly gotten him killed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, bringing his hand to her lips to kiss each of the swipes. A secret between her and her heart. “I’m so sorry.”