Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
I send a questioning look at Galen, who lifts a shoulder. “We’re nearly to the caverns. We may as well get the histaberramine plants to cure his rash. We’ll be there within the hour.”
I'm so relaxed from a good night's sleep and a full meal, I can't find it in me to argue. Yet. And we're already almost there. I'll just get rid of him after. Except that's what I said before and he’s still here. Much like Henry’s rash.
“What's in these caverns?” I ask as we begin walking again.
Galen winces and presses a hand to his wound, but keeps a steady pace with me. I want to ask him how he’s feeling, but I shouldn’t. I can’t afford to get close to him. Vulnerability makes me stupid and weak. “One of the other morts has been here and, according to him, there’s a water source, swimmers, and plants. From his description, one of those plants is the one we'll need.”
Despite my pep talk, I can’t help myself and the words fall from my lips no matter how much I try to stop them. “How do you know this?”
He grins and my throat goes dry. I thought a pretty man could be tempting…Evan was nothing compared to fangs and claws. “I study plants. If anyone would know, it's me.”
What was he saying? I clear my throat. “Plants, huh? That's not what I would have guessed.”
He gives me a curious glance. “What would you have guessed? A soldier, right? A big mort like me can’t possibly be good for anything but violence.”
I lift a shoulder, feeling ashamed even though I don't think I should. “I don't know. I guess so. It certainly seemed like it when the other aliens showed up at the prison.”
Lyric and Willow may have been okay with the hulking giants who infiltrated the prison, but I wasn’t about to stick around and see what they had planned for us. Soldiers. I know exactly what kind of horrors they’re capable of.
“There aren't many of us left and if I had to describe us, it would be family. We were just doing what it took to survive.” He sends me a pointed look that I can decipher even in the dark. “I'm sure you'll understand.”
I'm quiet for a moment because I do understand. It makes me uncomfortable to have something in common with him. I don't want to know him. I don't want to like him. Staying wary and angry is much easier.
And safer.
“You don’t understand anything about me,” I retort.
“So you’re saying you didn’t risk everything for you and your mortling to survive?” His gaze bores into me like he can read my thoughts. It makes me want to run away from it and never come back.
“What does it matter? Why do you care so much?” I don’t want him to know me, admire me. I want him to leave us alone.
Henry skips ahead, happily exploring despite his fatigue and itchy skin. Galen’s eyes follow him, keeping him in his sights at all times, never letting him get into anything dangerous or allowing him to stray too far. He reminds me…of me.
“Why do you automatically assume I wouldn’t care? Are you humans so thoughtless when it comes to their females?”
I snort. He can’t know how accurate that is. “Everything in my experience has taught me you’ll hurt me for your own advantage the first chance you get. I’d rather be far, far away before you decide we’re not worth your time anymore.”
Galen is silent for a long time. A miracle. He seems to think merely showing up will make him a hero in my eyes, but it’s not showing up that makes you a hero. It’s sticking around, surviving the hard parts, making the hard decisions. That’s a hero.
He moves closer and lifts a hand to reach out to me, but changes his mind. It drops to his side and my eyes linger on it for longer than I’d like to admit. “What happened to you?”
“The women from the prison haven’t told you?” My brows furrow. I would have thought they’d be angry and willing to disparage me at the first opportunity. The deserter. The runaway. They’d never given me any reason to doubt their friendship, but…c’mon. I slept with one of the guards. One of the men who gleefully captured, tortured, and abandoned them. Why wouldn’t they be angry with me?
The caves are dark and the shadows inky black, but I’m almost certain he’s inched closer to me. I can feel the heat from him even though I can’t see him very well. “There hasn’t been much time for idle gossip with the Earth II attack imminent. Tell me. I want to know why you look at me with such hate in your eyes. Is it because I’m different than you? Because I look different?”