Because somehow, against all logic, I matter to him beyond being just another female to breed.
“Why haven't you taken others?” I ask. “In forty seasons?”
“Others broke or begged. No middle ground. Female breaks and begs but also fights and thinks. Complexity interesting.”
“So I'm entertainment.”
“Female is... unexpected. Every day, unexpected.”
It's probably the closest thing to affection I'll get from a serpent.
The skirlings call in the distance. Different voices—the new pack claiming the old territory. They won't approach tonight, but they're there. Watching. Waiting. Testing the boundaries of his protection.
“They know I'm injured,” I observe.
“Yes. But also know female is claimed. Can smell my mark throughout you. In your wounds where my saliva heals. In your pussy where my cocks reshape. In your belly where my eggs dissolve.”
“That's disgusting.”
“That's survival. Injured prey is opportunity. Injured prey under apex predator's protection is death trap. They learned that today.”
His coils tighten as one call comes closer. Not threatening, just... present. Making sure I know I'm surrounded by his body, enclosed in his protection.
“Do you sleep?” I ask suddenly.
“Sometimes. Not deeply. Part of brain always alert.”
“So you're awake all night while I sleep?”
“Female needs rest. I need female alive. Simple equation.”
“That's... lonely.”
“Serpents solitary except for breeding. Loneliness is human concept.”
“But you're aware all night. Thinking.”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“Female asks too many questions.”
“Female is curious about her protector.”
Silence. Then: “Think about tomorrow. About keeping female safe. About seventeen days becoming sixteen becoming fifteen. About choices.”
“Whose choices?”
“Both.”
That stops me. I assumed the choice was only mine—stay or go through the portal. But he has choices too.
“What are your choices?”
“Whether to let female go if she chooses. Or convince her to stay.”
“Convince how?”
