Page 7 of His Fierce Fugitive
I roll my eyes. “Okay, why that way?”
“Instincts.”
“I feel like I’m missing something.”
“I’m a born tracker. I come from a long line of royal trackers and I’m good at what I do.”
“Are you now,” I say, scanning the area for more dangers. I eye a menacing-looking patch of colossal mushrooms as we pass.
“I found you.” He smirks over at me.
His confidence both irritates and reassures me. I sigh, accepting that, for now, my safety lies in his hands. "Just keep those big bugs away from me," I grumble, my annoyance coming more from the fact that I’m having these…feelings…around him. I really don’t want to believe in fated mates. It’s much to woo woo for me.
“While I’m alive, nothing will harm you ever again, Iris,” he says. How easily he lets those huge declarations roll off his tongue.
Andnow I’m thinking about his tongue.
4
TAK
As the suns sets, we seek shelter in a mossy cave, a temporary haven from the dangers of the night. Iris made me reassure her that this cave was not inhabited by a mutant beast before I built a small fire for heat and protection.
We eat more protein cubes, and some ripe jnera fruit I found growing near a fallen tree. It’s a welcome treat after that gruel from Lyrica.
“I’m so full,” Iris says, with a yawn and a hand on her belly. “That fruit is delicious. It tastes like a honeydew melon crossed with a peach back on Earth.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” I reply, then hand her a hydration pack. “Drink this.”
She turns over the capsule to inspect it.
“It dissolves when you put it in your mouth,” I say, putting one in my own mouth.
She watches me intently, and I suspect she’s not terribly interested in the pack, but the movements of my mouth.
I try not to blush.
I fish around for the mouth beads and hold one up. “These clean your teeth and freshen your breath.”
“Oh my god, yes,” she groans, opening her palm. “My mouth feels disgusting. I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.”
I dump one into her hand and she eagerly pops it in her mouth.
She sighs. “It’s the little things that seem like luxuries sometimes, ya know?” She closes her eyes and lets the bead go to work.
I chuckle. “I do.”
The fire's crackle fills the cave, and I find myself transfixed by this woman. The dance of the flames illuminates her exquisite features—the high cheekbones, the delicate eyelashes, and her lips, so full and dewy.
Gwen had shown me images of Iris on the device she called her phone. But they don’t do her justice. She’s striking—the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen—and not just physically. She's a storm of emotion, a vibrant combination of determination and vulnerability, and I'm drawn to her like nothing I’ve ever known.
When we traveled along the jungle path, I watched her with a quiet fascination as she took in the world around her. Her keen eyes noticed details I'd missed, and her questions about the alien flora and fauna kept me on my toes.
She’s fearless, marching through the underbrush, her lithe body gracefully avoiding the hazards as she follows my lead. Yet, underneath her strong exterior, there’s a fragility that calls to my protective instincts. I long to shield her from the darkness of her past, to show her that not all bonds bring pain.
The night's chill seeps into our shelter, and Iris shivers. She shifts closer to the fire, but due to the size of the cave, I couldn’t make it too big for fear of smoking us out.
“You’re cold," I say. “Allow me to hold you to keep you warm.”