At least his desire didn’t affect the chanu zayul, causing them to share their glow with him. She didn’t seem all that impressed with his glowing scales anyway. Any yan-kanat would feel respect and admiration for the sight of them, understanding what they meant, and what his role was. A female yan-kanat would see him as a desirable guardian, capable of defending her in even the most dangerous of situations, because he was Jotaha.
He did not have even that to impress his nixir drahi. If and when she understood his role, she might end up even less inclined to accept his claim and bear his mark.
He heard her movement and turned back around to find her sitak covering her again, though the sides still gaped open with broken seams as did the tail opening in the back. Some of the shells had fallen off. He would have the garment repaired after their seclusion. She wouldn’t need clothing during that time anyway, since he intended to keep her beneath him unless they were sleeping or eating.
She’d made her way to the furs, her motions jerky and accompanied by winces of pain. He wanted to help her, support her as she took careful steps as though she didn’t want to jar her body. He also realized he might cause more harm than good. She was still too wary of him to trust him so close to her, and might pull away, hurting herself even more in the process.
However, she appeared to understand what he wanted as she sank down onto the furs with another of the drawn-out groans. Once she was sitting, she looked up at him, seeming pleased that he had retreated to give her the feeling he was too far away to harm her. The mistaken belief that she was out of his reach worked as her shoulders slumped, her tension easing.
He would never harm her. Not even if she came at him and chomped on him again, though he certainly wouldn’t enjoy it. A stray thought of her burying her teeth in his shoulder or biting at his neck in passion made him reconsider that idea.
“I’m just sleeping, right?” She shook her head at his silence as he waited vainly for a clue to what she was saying.
Then she pressed her palms together and laid her head on them, closed her eyes, and mimed breathing in and out in a heavy, steady pattern. Her voice whistled in a reedy way as she made an ah-choo, ah-choo sound. After a short time of this baffling behavior, her eyelids popped open again.
“Sleep.” She pointed to herself. “Sarah, sleep.” Then she gestured to the furs, and slowly lowered herself into a supine position. “Sleep.”
Her repetition of the sounds was deliberate, and he understood that she was trying to tell him her meaning. “Sleeeeep,” he repeated, priding himself on forming the long, drawn-out sounds she had made.
Her eyes rolled alarmingly, bouncing from one side of her sockets to the other to show far too much of the white that surrounded them. “Sure. Sleeeep. Whatever works.”
Then her mouth stretched wide open, her hand lifting to cover it. Her eyes closed, and didn’t open again, though she muttered something under her breath in a voice too soft to differentiate sounds before trailing off into silence.
Within moments, her breathing steadied, telling him his drahi had finally found her rest.
11
“Did anyone catch the truck that hit me,” Sarah groaned as her eyes opened, the aches and pains in her body dragging her out of a deep sleep that hadn’t felt long enough.
A cave ceiling swathed in shadows stretched above her.
She turned her head, spotting Jotaha seated by the glowing stones. His visible scales glimmered when he shifted, the light passing over them as he turned to meet her eyes. This time, he was wearing the armor she’d recalled from their first unfortunate meeting. It was fancier than she remembered, but then again, she had been in mortal danger at the time so details had eluded her. She hadn’t had the chance to notice that the armor looked to be formed of layered, apparently lacquered, strips that had a pearlescent shimmer to them. What she took to be leather had been worked with an elaborate design on one pauldron that had been dyed to make it stand out on the light brown of the hide. That single decorated strip was stained with blood and scored by the bullet Jotaha had taken to his arm.
So her lizard man was real. Apparently, it hadn’t all been a bad dream. She turned her head to the other side, looking away from him as she processed this. At least he wasn’t cradling her against his chest this time, although, in a way, that was disappointing. Initially, there had been some comfort in the strong embrace. Until her awareness grew sharp enough to recognize the threat.
He didn’t appear to be threatening now, and much to her excitement, she spotted her jeans and shirt folded up beside her, right where she couldn’t miss seeing them. Her socks sat on top of her shirt, and her hiking boots sat beside the small pile.
The clothes looked as though they had been cleaned, smelled faintly of a light, fruity scent, and still had the appearance of being slightly damp.
If the return of her own clothes wasn’t a sign of progress, then she didn’t know what was. Apparently, he’d even taken the time to wash them. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could swear that one of the tears caused by her fall had been mended. It was so well done that she could barely see the seam of the repair. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if the clothing wasn’t right by her head.
She sat up slowly, noting that he had drawn a fur over her at some point, though she still wore the dress and the cave wasn’t overly chilly this close to the glow stones. Still, it revealed a level of care that someone about to kill her probably wouldn’t show for her comfort. As she sat up, she cast a quick glance his way, noting that he remained quiet, staring into the pulsing glow of the stones. A large mug sat on one of the stones, steam rising from the top of it, carrying a scent of herbs and a hint of something spicy.
Her stomach growled, apparently ready for breakfast. Despite the sound being muffled by the furs, Jotaha’s head still turned towards her, his gaze dropping to her concealed belly. “Sarah zayul, hon-gree?”
She nodded, relieved that he had picked up that one English word, then gestured to her mouth to reinforce her agreement with that statement.
He rose gracefully to his feet, clearly comfortable moving in the armor. The way it shifted with his body, the banded layers giving him more freedom of motion than solid pieces of armor would, told her it had been designed for easy movement.
His tail remained uncovered, lashing back and forth from a hole in the back of his armor as he strode towards his pack, presumably to fetch another one of those disgusting blood bars. Sarah wasn’t thrilled about eating another one, but she was hungry. She also wasn’t about to be demanding towards an alien creature that seemed to mean her no harm, but could kill her in a flash if she angered him. Best to cooperate fully and graciously, and use his generosity to build her strength for a potential escape.
When he crouched down, his attention focused on digging in his pack, she used the opportunity to toss the fur covering aside and begin working the remains of the beautiful dress off over her head. The condition it was in was a true shame, as the shells were so beautiful and the silken fabric so soft and shiny. Even if it had fit properly, it wouldn’t have been the kind of thing she’d wear casually. This was red carpet fashion as far as she was concerned, and she was not a red carpet kind of girl.
She hadn’t even gone to her high school proms, so had never had the opportunity to wear a fancy ball gown type dress, though she’d dreamed of someday having a wedding with a dress that would please a princess. Given her inability to trust men to stick around after they got what they wanted, her chances for marriage were getting slimmer by the year as she turned to fictional characters and other anonymous players in video games for her primary socializing.