With the sedative in his system, the spider’s chittering finally quiets down. While I’m grateful for the sedatives, I’m not so grateful for the reason we use them. A while back, I asked Solta about it, and she gave me some cock-and-bull story about the nurse’s femininity distracting the gladiators, resulting in poor fight outcomes. But if that were the case, why have only female nurses? It makes no sense until you realize the Magistrate is scared of us. I’ve read enough history books to know that when a subjugated people are allowed to communicate freely, those in power don’t last very long.
I work quickly, cleaning and bandaging the wounds while taking frequent breaks at the window for fresh air. Surprisingly, I haven’t puked yet.Yay for me!
Now to address the leg.
There’s definitely something wrong with it, and I’m leaning towards dislocation.
I prod along the joint and frown. The exoskeleton’s still intact, and if I remember anything about bugs, they don’t have an endoskeleton. But this is an alien, not a bug. And I’m pretty sure bugs can’t be this big without having anendoskeleton. Right?
Wishing I had a textbook on alien orthopedics, I grab the leg, say a prayer to whoever’s listening, and yank. There’s a satisfying pop, and the leg settles into a more natural position.
“Would you look at that,” I mutter. Somehow, I nailed it.
Feeling content, I splint the joint, rip my gloves off, and wait for Yuxta by the door.
The gap he left is just wide enough for me to get a consistent flow of fresh air, but I have to lean awkwardly against the doorframe to enjoy it. After a few minutes, my muscles start to burn, and my impatience grows. Yuxta should be back by now.
Resisting the urge to poke my head into the hallway, I grip my med-bag to my chest and try to let my mind wander. Eventually, I hear the familiar thud of boots.
Finally.
The door swings open, and I’m face-to-face with … not Yuxta.
“Come,” Kyvern says. His nearly translucent skin bunches at his nose as he takes a deep sniff of the rank air.
I grimace.Fucking hell, I think he’s enjoying the stench.
With an obedient nod that feels very forced, I step into the darkened hall and try to appear non-threatening. Kyvern’s ability to flip from calm to violent in a heartbeat is shocking, and the last thing I want is to piss him off.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Kyvern and wait for him to close the door. But he’s just standing there.
I’m about to ask what’s wrong when his lips curl and my stomach sinks.
Fuck me, that’s a smile. Kyvern doesn’t smile.
Forcing myself to stay calm, I keep my eyes low and my breathing steady, but that goes out the window a second later when he lowers his head and fixes his dark, predatory eyes on me.
Instinct takes over, and I run.
A laugh that sounds like breaking glass follows me.Not good.
I turn to look, feet still propelling me forward, and watch as Kyvern coils his muscles and slams the cell door shut.
The crashing sound of metal on metal hits me like a thousand knives. Panic swells. I try to breathe through it.It’s just a sound, Amara. You’re fine.But I’m not fine. Terror takes root. Nerve endings scream. Adrenaline burns as my heart works to escape containment. I try to stop the downward spiral, but I’m already too far gone. Past the point of no return. My ears roar as a familiar fog creeps over my vision until all I can see is that bright square of light in a sea of shadow.
I grip my face, trying to push myself back to the present. Back to reality. But it doesn’t work. My legs are still moving, but the square of light isn’t getting any closer.Because it’s not real.But it feels real.Something catches my foot. My stomach rises as I drop. I reach out, bracing myself to meet the stone floor. But it’s not stone.No, no, no, no.Cold metal presses into my skin. The smell of sweat and shit and death surrounds me. And then the screams start.
My entire bodyjolts as something touches me. I try to fight back, desperate to strike my attacker, but my arms feel like lead. They’re too heavy. And I can’t see.Oh my god, I can’t see.Hysteria rises in my throat until I realize I’m not blind. My eyes are just closed. I try peeling them open. They’re sticky, and my vision is blurred.
“You are safe,” someone says. Hands touch my shoulders. Non-threatening. Not an attack. I blink a few times, and Roveen’s slim face and drooping antennae come into focus.Not an attacker.
My head falls back, and I groan at the unforgiving surfacebeneath me. Something sharp is digging into my spine and my bare thighs. Because I’m on the floor. In the Nurse’s Room.
“How did I—” I stop when Roveen’s antennae go rigid and she flicks her eyes to the side.
Solta’s watching us with an annoyed expression.“She is fine, Roveen,” Solta says. “Get back to your duties.”
Roveen gives me an apologetic glance and stands. The motion is enough to throw off my equilibrium, and I have to close my eyes to fight the nausea rising in my throat. Eventually, the feeling goes away, and I’m able to open my eyes again.
