“I will give you some space.”
I hear him start to turn for the tunnel and the urge to stop him overcomes me. “Wait!” Surging to my feet, I dart to him. But unlike the other attempts I’ve made to keep him here, this time I reach out and take his hand in mine.
He freezes, his body no less tense than earlier, and looks down at our clasped hands: his huge and blue, mine tiny, pale, and delicate in comparison. Both scarred, though. Neither of us has had a life without pain.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
His hand flexes under mine and his brows furrow. “For what?”
I lean up to cup his cheek with my other hand, and, rising on my toes, give him a kiss. For a moment, our lips touch, his warm and soft against my own.
My bare feet flatten out on the stony floor as I pull away. “For bringing me my things and the note,” Iexplain.
I walk away, back to my hides, sitting down upon them and facing away from him. I’m no longer bored, but disappointed and… betrayed instead. And tired, so tired. I lie down and pull my bag to me. Embracing it, I close my eyes.
I knew they would leave and all this does is confirm it. Nothing more.Still, I can’t shake the emotion, not even back to embarrassment for the state Darolus found me in.
His scent fills me and I let out a jagged breath.
I listen to him leave before I let sleep take me away.
THIRTEEN
PHEROMONES
Darolus
I cannot find the naga.Try as I might, as far afield as I search, there is no trace of a trespasser other than those from Sabrina’s ship. And as of yesterday, they too have gone.
I have combed the streets, the collapsed buildings, the piles of broken trash, and the underground tunnels, hoping for a scent or a trail—only to find nothing unusual except ship exhaust in the wind and…
Clouds in the sky…
I can barely remember the last time there were clouds in the sky. What I do recall are the sheets of water that eventually fell from them, flooding much of the forest and killing many. It was a dark time where much was lost and territories were shifted. The orbs that once flew through the skies flew no longer. After the rain stopped and the clouds vanished, a period of brutality followed. The land-dwellingclans that once ruled were taken out by those who thrived in the water.
I do not know what these new clouds will bring. But they worry me.
As for the naga who hurt Sabrina, I have even searched outside the city and into the plain, seeking the smallest clue, hint, trace, anything that would lead me to him, to no avail. There are only pig and rodent prints, and the occasional tracks from a pack of wolves. If another naga has been near my territory, he is long gone now, and has hidden his path well.
Or… something or someone else attacked her.
Pausing outside the main tunnel into my nest, I touch my fingers to my lips. I have not returned since giving Sabrina the paper and bag, though I fear I am not yet ready to go back down and face her. I do not know what is going on with her, but whatever it is, it is affecting me as well.
I have yet to figure out why she placed her mouth on mine yesterday. Or why she has started giving off a delicious smell. I am not used to this newfound awareness of another, and…
I scrape my claw over my lips, replacing the soft pad of my fingers with sharp sensation.
I do not understand why I am suddenly driven to close the distance between us and return to her. Before, I came back to make sure she was alive and had not escaped, and now…
I rub my hand over my mouth, running it over in my head. This new urge…
I want to see her. To… watch her.
Feeling my tail coil and strain with tension, I look down at my body. Rigid with stress—stress from a failed hunt, from what is happening in the skies, from what is going onwith the female in my nest—my muscles ache. I need rest; I need to ensure she is safe.
I scratch my fingers over my lips once more, then head down into the tunnel despite my misgivings.
As I near my nest, a hint of her wafts up at me: a subtle, barely-there trace of her smell. Not the heady one from yesterday but her smell all the same, sweet and strange. Hesitating again, I groan and drop my hand to my front, where the tension is the worst. My slit parts as my fingers slip over the taut tendons that usually hold it shut. It has been like this since yesterday, threatening to split open every time I think of her. Pressing my hand against the bulge forming, I push it back inside me until my slit closes around it once more.
