Chapter 22
GILLIAN
Istare after Dalox before moving swiftly to the door to lock it as he said I could. Only I can’t work out how to lock it. I stare at it for a while.
After all, what does it matter? If he wanted to do anything to me, he could have done it already, and if he wants to do something later, my ability to fight him off is only going to go so far.
But also, the knot in my stomach, the one I’ve had for I don’t know how long, is gone. It’s as if I trust Dalox.
I trust him to do what he says he’s going to do.
Next to the door which leads back into his rooms, a small box recessed into the wall bleeps at me. I approach with caution, as the scent of food fills the room. It’s a mix of smells, both savory and sweet, and my stomach growls in anticipation.
Peering in, I find a large plate covered in food, all unfamiliar, but it would appear my hunger doesn’t care much about it being all brand-new.
With one eye on the door, I strip off the wet jumpsuit and wrap the warm towel around me instead.
It’s large enough it covers everything it needs to conceal and more.
Although, given my experience with the blanket thing from the pod, I’m not relying on it, and I hope the promise of more clothing arrives soon.
I carry the platter over to the depression in the floor. It seems to be a thing with the Sarkarnii, given Dalox had one next door and one in his lair, and there was one in the clan hall where I sat with my fellow abductees.
All of whom seem perfectly happy to stay here with the Sarkarnii.
I lean back against the comfortable cushions and pick at the food I have been given. It’s very similar, if not perhaps the same, as the items I was eating when I met the other women. I’m certain I recall various flavors and shapes as I graze my way through it, trying not to let my mind run wild.
I thought I’d been through a lot up until now, but it turns out spending time with the Sarkarnii has shown me there’s far more going on than a girl in a pit. Stuff which, as it turns out, proves our abduction isn’t the end of the universe, or even an indication of what goes on within it.
I have to admit the Sarkarnii seem to have good intentions. Even if they all smoke like chimneys, have tails which they clearly can’t control, and growl as if it’s going out of fashion.
And look rather like Greek gods, with their perfectly chiseled faces and butt cheeks I would die for.
I give myself a good shake. Thinking this way about Dalox is not going to help. Not when I have to get home and at least take Lydia with me. I need to concentrate on the goal ahead, not on Dalox’s bum.
However nice it may be.
As for the other thing…I’ve really, really got to put that somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind and NOT think about it at all.
After all, how the hell does it even fit?
A shudder runs through my body, not in a bad way, in a way which pools in my core and makes me feel strange inside, strange good, strange nice.
I have to stop thinking about Dalox’s anatomy. I need to concentrate.
I yawn widely, stretching up above my head and feeling the tiredness flow over me. It’s been a long, long day. Not that I haven’t had long days before, but this has been information overload.
The cushions seem extra comfy as I stretch out on them. Before long, everything is dark.
Everything is quiet.
Everything is suddenly lit up with light so blinding it hurts my eyes and sears my skin. Is it a Sarkarnii? No, it’s something else, something which feels so evil, I want to run rather than fight.
I have to get away, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t move. I’m pinned in place. I can’t scream, I can’t do anything other than let it get closer and closer.
“Sweet mate.” A voice, deep and dark, rumbles through the fear.
“I can’t…I can’t…”
“You can. I won’t let you go, Gillian.”
Dalox is here. He is here. He has hold of me. The evil is receding as the dream, the nightmare, fades from my mind’s eye.
“Dalox?”
“My sweet spark.” His burning eyes look me over. “I heard you cry out. I could not stay away. I hope you can forgive me?”
“I was dreaming…a nightmare…there was…” I shake my head. My cheeks are wet as if I’ve been crying, but I don’t remember crying.
I haven’t cried since my mum closed her eyes for the last time. Even then, I only cried until the nurses came. Then it seemed there were no more tears.
Until now.
“I don’t know…there was something…out there, coming for me.” I breathe the last words, long and shuddering, before gasping the air back in.
“Nothing will pass me,” Dalox rasps. “Not while I have breath in my body. I will be by your side, Gillian, always here to offer you protection if you want it.”
I stare up into his handsome face. His slit pupils are wide as he gazes at me, his bare chest heaving, the new scales glittering.
I find myself tracing my finger over them as my brain attempts to reset from the dream, my waking, and the lingering terror which I don’t want to name.
I concentrate on my breathing, on getting it under control, on the heat which comes off Dalox, a juxtaposition between him being reptilian in his scales and eyes but a dragon in his flame and warmth.
“Gillian?” His knuckle is under my chin, lifting my face up to his.
“I’ve been a fighter all my life.” I find the words spilling from me. “My mum was a mixed martial arts specialist, and she ran a school we both worked at. She taught me about what she did before I could walk. It’s not about the fight, it’s about the mind. I’m not used to my mind betraying me.”
Dalox tips his head on one side and blinks slowly. “Sarkarnii warrior training is similar. You cannot fight if you do not know why.”
I am so close to him, so close to his face I’m able to study the tiny scales on his cheeks, almost like freckles if freckles could appear on something as deadly as he.
His lips are full, and as I inspect them, I see they are also scaled but even smaller.
I shouldn’t be wondering what it might feel like to kiss him, but I am.
One kiss isn’t going to hurt anyone. One kiss of a male creature who wants me, who wants to be with me, who wants to fight alongside me and to put himself between me and danger.
I shouldn’t kiss him.
But I do.