“Not force. Never force. But... influence. Make the seventeen days so necessary that Earth feels empty after.”
“That's manipulation.”
“That's courtship. Serpent version.”
I should be angry at the admission, but I'm too tired. Too sore. Too full of his proto-eggs to pretend I'm not already being influenced.
“I still hate you,” I say, but now it sounds like something else entirely.
“Known fact. Changes nothing.”
No. It doesn't.
I close my eyes and let his coils warm me through the cold swamp night. Seventeen more days of this. Seventeen more days to decide if empty freedom is better than filled captivity. Seventeen more days of him protecting me, feeding me, breeding me, keeping me alive in this nightmare swamp.
The answer should be obvious.
But nothing about this is obvious anymore.
Tomorrow will bring more breeding, more proto-eggs, more need. The cycle continues whether I hate it or not. But now I know I can't survive it alone. Know that running leads to skirlings tearing me apart. Know that withdrawal without his relief might actually kill me.
That's not surrender. That's just fact.
Like my need.
Like his protection.
Like the seventeen days that suddenly feel both too long and far too short.
“Sleep, angry female,” Vhaz murmurs. “Tomorrow brings healing.”
“Tomorrow brings more breeding.”
“Same thing for your body now.”
He's right.
I hate that he's right.
But he is.
I drift into sleep surrounded by serpent coils, belly still slightly swollen with proto-eggs, wounds aching but healingunder his saliva bandages, completely dependent on the creature I claim to hate. But the hate feels different now. Softer. More like a word we say than a truth we believe.
Seventeen more days.
The countdown continues.
And for the first time since I arrived in this swamp, I'm not sure I want it to reach zero.
KASS
Idress in the dark while Vhaz pretends to sleep.
My old pants are stiff with dirt and blood, torn at both knees. The shirt barely exists—more holes than fabric. But they're human clothes, Earth clothes, and wearing them feels like armor for what's coming.
My hands shake as I try to tie what's left of my boots. The laces break. I curse quietly and give up, tucking the loose ends in. Everything about me is literally falling apart, held together by alien saliva and stubbornness.
“Female is leaving early.” His voice is carefully neutral, but I feel his coils tense beneath me.
