Instead of trying to mend what I broke, I left. I was overwhelmed, but part of me wished he had followed. Or insisted more.
But then he would go against what I said I needed. I groan and raise a shaking hand to my aching eyes.
I can't decide what I want, so how could he know?
I wasvery clear about not wanting to leave the river, though. My heart clenches when I picture the cryochamber hitting a rock and one of the women drowning. And then I'm angry instead of heartsick.
I know I was being unreasonable.
I still know it. Yet I don't see why he couldn't have spent a few minutes getting me to the top of a tree and then chased the chamber.
Then I picture a big red bullseye on his orange hide as he raced along the river and guilt replaces anger. He could have been shot going out the first time and I'm in here pissed off that a person he doesn't even know—hell, I don't even know—wasn't a priority for him.
I'm putting everyone I meet in danger. For the sake of women I don't know.
It isn't right.
And yet, what else am I supposed to do?
"Fuck. What have I even really done to help?"
Nothing.
Not a single woman is safe. Anyone but me would have been better at keeping them safe. They needed a different champion.
They still do.
I move my tight grip from my arms to my knees, pulling them against my chest. It reminds me of Szhe'ka.
Is he dead? Kuret too? Why don't I feel driven to protect them?
What if I get Thivoll killed?
Another sob rises. I need Silver with me. I close my eyes to picture her face but only get a fuzzy image of her and a sharp one of a cryochamber.
That's fucked up.
My eyes pop back open and go back to staring at the dimly lit walls. Why couldn't that stupid snake alien have simply stayed with us?
He left a message, so it's not like he thought we couldn't communicate.
"Motherfucker."
I yelp when multiple scores of pain drag me out of my mental spiral.
There's blood soaking down the outside of both knees. I guess it's a bad idea to imagine hurting random aliens while digging your fingers into your legs.
Well, if you happen to be a fucking alien experiment.
"Why do I smell blood?" Thivoll's gravely voice inquires.
I groan.
Of course I couldn't hide it. "Poor hand placement and claw control."
"We've all done that."
Part of me wants to laugh, but there's too much disbelief stuck in my throat.
