Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
We go up to the cave, which is tight quarters like Drako said. There is something absolutely incomparably cozy about being tucked away in a small space with rock walls, though. For the first time since our ship obliterated itself against this planet’s surface, I feel safe. Really safe. Animal safe.
I tuck myself into a corner and I could swear I am asleep before I can close my eyes.
I sleep for a good amount of time, but because I fell asleep so early, I wake up in the middle of the night, or very early in the morning. Which, I cannot precisely say.
When I open my eyes, I see that a fire has been set at the mouth of the cave. The flickering sends shadows playing across the inner walls. Male voices are speaking in low tones.
I wonder what they are talking about, these two men who have no good intentions for one another. Drako saved Thor, but Thor keeps saying he will see Drako hang. I understand why. It is easier to cling to duty than to adapt to a new reality. But there are only three humans on this world right now, and there may only be three of us for a very long time.
I’d like to think we will be rescued, but I do not know that much about space faring, and what I do know suggests that we lose ships from time to time and rescue missions are, well, costly.
Drako might be right.
I close my eyes again, and fall completely asleep to the sounds of their conversation. When I open my eyes again, it is morning. The fire has been put to use cooking meat of some kind, and only Drako is in the cave with me.
“Good morning,” he says, turning to face me as I make the scrambling noises associated with getting up. I have spent a night asleep in the sheltering curve of a rock with no bedding at all. I should feel worse than I do, really. Is there such a thing as ergonomic slate?
“Did you sleep?” I frown at him.
He chuckles. “Yes,” he says. “I don’t need as much as you. I am not a woman.”
“Women need more sleep than men?”
“Yes,” he says. “Unavoidable biology. Women from my clan sleep ten hours a day and nap if they want.”
“I didn’t see any of the women in your clan napping when they were helping drag me about the place,” I say. I still have quite vivid memories of the short time I spent in captivity with this man, and I am not going to forget them just because he has been amazing for the last twenty-four hours, or because he’s providing for me, or because he somehow looks hotter every day that passes.
He doesn’t reply to that. He turns his attention back to whatever is cooking on the fire.
“Where did Thor go?”
“He wants to do a mission to the wreckage to scavenge some materials. I did not stop him, because he is not mine to command, and if he gets himself killed then I do not have to tolerate his Frayer cock inside you.”
Drako is blunt as ever.
“So he went without me?”
“Neither he nor I would tolerate you going down there. It’s dangerous, and you are far too precious.”
Someone else might be flattered by that description, but I really wanted to go down to the wreckage too. There’s a chance there are some ration packs left, maybe. I don’t know if the scavenging horde was into freeze-dried things as well as human flesh.
“We should all be down there,” I say. “It’s too precious a resource to waste. And your camp, too. We should be gathering supplies from both places…”
Drako listens to me in a manner I can only describe as almost insultingly patient.
“We will balance safety and advantage,” he says. “Right now, we need rest, and we need food. We have both. There’s a spring not too far as well, feeds the river downstream of here. Might even be one of its origins. Anyway, we have what we need.”
I am talking a big game, but the truth is I don’t know more than he does about surviving on this planet. He’s done it for a while. I just want to assert myself, not hide in a cave while two big men fight over who gets to make decisions for me.
“Here,” he says, handing me a leaf with what looks like wild bacon on it. “Eat up.”
I do, because refusing would be stupid. It’s good. It’s crispy and it has a kind of umami tang that I quite enjoy. I don’t know what kind of animal it came from, but I am grateful to the creature for its sacrifice.
“Did you eat?” I ask the question out of a sudden suspicion that Drako might be sacrificing himself for me.