“Careful!" He stared at the bead of blood on her fingertip. Abruptly, he dragged her hand closer, locking his lips around her finger. His tongue, hot and wet, swept over the tiny cut.
She felt the stroke as though he’d delivered it to her clit, instead. With a strangled sound, she twisted her hand out of his grip. “What are you doing?” Cordelia dabbed at the cut with the hem of her shirt.
“I… I don’t know.” His eyes were glazed, simmering with intensity as they followed her hand.
She cleared her throat hard. “We should keep moving.”
“Yes… yes, of course.” He blinked hard, dragging his gaze from her. “This way.”
They hiked in silence for a while. Rentir repeatedly checked the navigation on his comm device.
“So…” She panted, pressing a hand over the pain in her side as she clambered over a root. “What’s up with this ‘lodge’?”
“What’s up?” he echoed, visibly confused.
“I mean, what is it? Why is it out here?”
He nodded in understanding, reaching out to help her over a rotting log covered in silvery moss. She pulled her hand back as soon as she was over it. The lingering tingle in her fingers unnerved her.
My crew is out there being abducted by aliens, and I’m thinking about climbing on top of one. God, they never should have sent me on this mission.
“The lodge is a leisure facility,” he said, pressing the hand that touched her against his stomach. “A place for the elites of the Aurillon to enjoy themselves. They hunt game for sport.”
“Huh. Guess some things are universal.”
“I have heard things about Auretia—the homeworld of the Aurillon—that there is precious little left in the way of wilds.”
“That sounds familiar, as well.” Bitterness soured her tongue. “My homeworld was picked clean, too. I doubt there’s anything left now.” She sniffed, wiping her runny nose on the back of her sleeve. “I’ll probably never see it again. Maybe I shouldn’t be sad about that. It was a shithole, but… it was home, you know?”
He looked around the forest. “Yes, I believe I do.”
She stumbled over an uneven patch of earth, landing hard on her hands and knees. Rentir was by her side in an instant. Groaning, she sat back on her heels.
“Sorry. I’m a little dizzy.”
“You’re dehydrated,” he said, cupping her face in his big hands. “I must find you water.”
“I can make it. How much further?”
Grudgingly, he released her, twisting his wrist to check the map. “Another hour, maybe more at this pace.”
Fuck. She didn’t know if she had another hour in her. He was right; she was dehydrated. Her canteen had been empty long before they’d found their camping spot the night before. She was losing a lot of her water to sweat. Beyond that, she was still dealing with the sluggish clumsiness that always followed a long cryosleep. Ideally, she’d be curled up in a nest of blankets somewhere, waiting for her faculties to come back online.
Rentir studied her reluctance. His mouth thinned with obvious frustration. Without warning, he lunged at her, banding his arms beneath her back and her knees. She couldn’t help the little shriek that escaped her as he hauled her off the ground.
“I can walk!”
“You will not,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. His tail wrapped around one of her bobbing ankles. “I can get us there faster this way.”
“Seriously, Tarzan, put me down.”
“I will not.”
She squirmed, but he only held her tighter.
“Cordelia,” he said, scolding her.
She fell still, grinding her teeth in frustration. “Fine.”
