Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
“He’s dead,” Calix announces, his eyes on his very pregnant wife, who visibly relaxes at the news. “We’ll take his body back and give him a proper burial. He may have been mad, but he was a mort.”
They cover him with a blanket from Draven’s pack and load him in the back of Lox’s vehicle. It’s not big enough to transport Eileen, so they tie her to the back. I guess we’ll drive as slow as she can walk. Emery and Calix load up in the vehicle they had repaired from Sector 1779 and drive ahead of us.
“Emery is leaking colostrum. We hope that combined with the rogcow milk, it will satisfy little Sokko. We’ll ride ahead and update the others.”
When we’re alone, Draven turns to me. “Don’t ever do that again,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “My brave, sweet mate. You took the life straight from my heart.”
I squeeze him tight. “Does this mean you’ll let me keep Eileen instead of eating her?” I ask.
14
Draven
“Her name is Eye-lean, and no, you can’t eat her!” Molly gripes, swatting away Hadrian’s hand as he reaches for her rogcow.
Her rogcow.
That’s the absolute truth.
My mate treats that walking, ronking, meaty beast as though it’s her very own mortling. I’m beyond salivating over it because she made me see reason.
We need it for Sokko.
The rogcow ronks and kicks out her hind legs as Theron hoses her down in the large Decontamination Bay. Galen’s already checked her R-Levels, took a sample, and bounded off to the lab with Avrell and Calix. She’s clean, and frankly, edible. But most importantly her milk is safe for them to work on a special formula for the mortling.
“But you say there’s more?” Hadrian probes. “A whole herd?”
The starved glint in his eyes has Molly whacking at him again.
“They’re her family. Go eat some green bunches, and leave her cousins alone!”
Hadrian chuckles, clearly amused at riling my mate up. I give him a fierce glare that has him slinking away to pester someone else.
“We need to see Avrell,” I urge Molly. “He’s expecting us back to check us over.”
She goes back to arguing with Hadrian, and I rub at my temple. When Lox threw the handheld explosive, I’d been knocked on my rump. Hit my nog pretty hard on the ground. Ever since, I’ve been slightly dizzy, and the throbbing is incessant.
“Hey,” Molly coos, suddenly close, both hands sliding to my cheeks. “You don’t look so well. Let’s get out of here. I’ve threatened Hadrian’s life if he so much as dares look at Eye-lean funny.”
I simply nod at her and allow her to guide us out of the Decontamination Bay. We walk down the hall to the medical bay and into Avrell’s lab.
“Ahh, there you are,” Avrell says, giving us a tired smile.
“Check to make sure my mate is safe,” I grumble. “Please.”
Molly shakes her nog. “I’m fine. But you’re not fine. Hop up on that table, and let Doc have a look at you.”
Begrudgingly, I sit on the table before stretching my body out. The lights are bright, and I wince against them. Avrell’s brows furrow as he sets to running a series of tests on me.
“Draven.”
I blink away my daze and find Molly seated on the edge of the table, holding my hand. “Mmm?”
“He said you have a concussion, and you need to stay awake. Come on, big boy,” she says. “Sit up.”
“The dizziness and confusion will come and go,” Avrell says. “I’d like you to stay awake until it’s time for bed. Just so we can make sure nothing strange occurs. But with rest, you should be fine. I’ll give you some ghan-dust tablets.”
“What are ghan-dust tablets?” Molly asks.
“Ghan are rock-like roots found in the underground wells that can be ground to dust and used for certain ailments,” Avrell explains. “Like rekking nog-aches.”
I swallow the ghan-dust tablets dry and shoot Avrell a firm look that says, “My mate. Now.”
Instead of chuckling, per Avrell’s usual demeanor, he simply nods, his lips forming a firm line. Worrying over Sokko is taking its toll on him.
I slide off the table then pick my mate up. She lets out a little squeal until I set her down on the table.
“I’m not hurt,” she says with a huff. “I’m tired and sore, but just fine.”
Avrell bypasses the machines he used to check me over. After a quick scan to check her R-Levels—which are thankfully not present—he grabs the wegloscan. I tense and lock eyes with him. Hope flutters inside my stomach, not helping my dizziness whatsoever. Molly is completely oblivious to Avrell’s intent.
Please…
Please…
Please…
Days ago, I would’ve laughed if I saw myself standing here silently begging. Now, I’m not laughing. I’m rekking hoping.
Avrell waves the wegloscan over her abdomen, and it beeps. A green light flashes. Both Avrell and I let out a sharp breath.