Page 7 of Diamond
"The genali are a nasty bunch. I am Tehlmar," he says, clacking his jaws at them.
I catch sight of a row of sharp green teeth and take a step back, swallowing hard.
It takes me a moment to process what he just said. "They are," I retort, glancing back at the puddle to confirm it. "You can call me Nasrin."
"I will check for supplies. Wait here."
I ignore his demanding tone and use the opportunity to get a better look at him. He is significantly taller than me by at least several feet, and his skin shines in the waning light of the forest, which I'm currently mostly ignoring so I don't panic.
He is thin, with his long green hair that almost reaches his waist. His legs move quickly, his foot spikes sink into the leaves and detritus in a way that my brain is struggling to process.
When he speaks to me again, I notice how soft-spoken he is. His language is melodic and soothing, almost like a lullaby being whispered.
"There isn't much this way," he says, pointing in the direction behind him as he walks past, his arm brushing against mine.
My nipples harden again, and the crotch of my jumpsuit grows moist.
I don't know what the genali have done to me, but this must be part of it—my body has never responded to a man this way before. Maybe it's the kind of men I've been exposed to, but I haven't found one attractive in a very long time. Even then, it was more out of curiosity than anything else.
He walks past me, and I catch a whiff of his scent, like some exotic spice. He may not be human, but I have to admit that he is good-looking.
I grumble to myself when another wave of wetness rushes out of me, pressing my legs tightly together. "Control yourself, Nasrin."
"Let's go," he calls to me and I nod, watching as his face twists into what I recognize as confusion.
He's an alien, and I might be the first human he's ever encountered.
A long, tired sigh escapes my lungs as my mind races, unsure of where to begin in figuring this all out. I'm on a different planet with a purple and green sky, I can understand two alien languages so far, and I'm dressed in a too-tight jumpsuit that either works with my thoughts or is some kind of magic.
Where does one even begin when everything is alien?
"You look dazed, but you are far calmer than I would expect," he comments, his voice sounding fake, though I'm not sure how I can know that in an alien language. I don't trust him.
I hear Bibi's voice in my head, scolding me for not trusting any men, reminding me how it only worsens my already terrible prospects. A memory surfaces with it… something about her. I shake my head, as if doing so will help rearrange all the confusion into something that makes sense.
"Fear is constant where I am from," I tell him through gritted teeth. "If you don't master it, you don't survive."
He huffs out a breath, but doesn't respond and it makes my hands twitch. Nothing feels right, but the basic foundation of my instincts seems useless now. Not trusting anyone is a default, but I'm certain I can't get out of this alone.
This is not the time to doubt the one person who literally saved my life fromAllahknows what horrors they had planned for me. I'd better keep my head down and learn all I can. A towering, deadly-looking elf alien might just be the companion I need… wherever this is.
4
Kuret
It feels like I've been walking through the hallways of the outer cloister for ages.
I don't remember it being this long, but I keep moving forward, step after step, endlessly. In the distance, I hear a sound—like men screaming a battle cry-and it spurs me to quicken my pace, until I'm running, eager to reach them, to earn my honor on the battlefield.
When I reach the courtyard, I see the bloodied males marching toward me, their eyes vacant and dead, with Samke leading them. I raise my spear, trying to reason with them, but Samke lunges at me, open mouth, sharp teeth aiming at my throat.
***
"Samke!" I scream, pushing myself off the ground before I've even fully woken up.
I try to assume a fighting stance, but my legs are not steady, and I rock back and forth, tipping forward until a bush breaks my fall.
Pulling away from the surprisingly lush purple bush, I lay on the ground to collect my thoughts and make sense of where I am. The sky is an unnatural shade of purple-green, with a bright sun that warms instead of burning, and towering plants stretch far beyond my sight—unnaturally tall in a way that makes my marks itch.