Page 65 of Theirs to Crave

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Page 65 of Theirs to Crave

I would keep watch for a little while longer.

Chapter 19

Estrella

Iawoke with a start, my heart hammering in my chest as the memory of being burned to a crisp by a fire-breathing cartoon dragon lounging on a hoard of golden Guinea Pigs faded into mist.

“Kshh, Estrayuh,” Zafett murmured, brushing a finger over my cheek as he untangled himself and rose without any of the unsteadiness he’d shown the night before. “Keshit.”

I mumbled something into the pillow, my eyes already closed, and his chuckle followed him out.

Revik and Litha must have gotten up earlier, because I was alone on the giant cushion. Rolling over, I stared at the ceiling.

We’d been attacked by a dragon.A dragon! There werepinche dragoneson this planet! If I hadn’t been pissing myself with terror, it would have been fucking amazing. The creature had been resplendent, in an Escorting You To Your Imminent Death sort of way.

As big as a damned bus, with a wingspan that blocked out the sky, it somehow hadn’t been bulky. Its four legs were almost delicate, until you got to the huge freaking talons. They’d been black as obsidian and as long as my arm.

Its body was long and sinuous, ending in a frill similar to its wings that flared open and closed.

The head was just as full of sharp teeth as I would have expected—if I’d ever considered something as outrageous asalien dragons—and the scale-covered gray hide shimmered like an oil slick.

The tentacles had been a surprise.

They’d twisted and snapped around its neck and down its chest, more than I could count. I didn’t know what to call them besides tentacles, but they’d only vaguely resembled the legs of an octopus—which I’d always thought were kind of cute—in that they were twisty and prehensile. More than anything, theva’grev’stentacles looked like chain whips from some gore-soaked anime: flat, serrated, and mind-bendingly scary.

If the damned things spat fire, I would lose my shit. I’d never leave the house again. Breakfast in bed and chamber pots forever.

The muffled sounds of conversation slipped in from outside, and I rubbed my hands over my face. Offended by the rough treatment, my bangs poked me in the eye.

I had to do something about them. Maybe I could try that face-framing hack where you twist them all together and one of the Teterayuh could saw them off with a knife. I usually went for a blunt bang, but if they kept getting in my face, I was going to end up running into a tree or chopping all my hair off. Possibly both.

I also had to stop procrastinating and go help with breakfast.

New planet, same bullshit. Just day after day of my anxiety making me act like an idiot, followed by embarrassment as I apologized—again.

I’d been okay during the fight. Handled myself pretty well, I thought. I’d found a weapon andused it. For just a minute, I felt like a badass.

Then the adrenaline disappeared, and I’d turned into a mushroom. Revik had to carry me home! I hadn’t even been hurt, unlike him. He had a couple of nasty gashes on his side. I’d just been overwhelmed. The dragon, the blood...it had all been too much on top of everything else, and I’d gone fully offline.Really pulling my weight as a roommate so far.

I was trying hard not to think of what happened after as “pity cuddles”.

I groaned and pushed to my feet. Hiding in bed all day wouldn’t improve their opinions of me any.

“Sethitzikay,” I mumbled, stumbling over the Teterayuh word for “good morning” only slightly on my way to empty my bladder.

The greetings they called back sounded perfectly casual—not as if they were trying to figure out how to exchange me for a less-damaged alien pet—but we would see.

It turned out my help wasn’t needed. Since our groceries hadn’t made it home, breakfast looked to be leftovers scraped together from the cupboard. Little piles of nuts, seeds, and dried meat were laid out on the table, around which Litha, Zafett, and Revik lounged, sipping from steaming cups of tea.

I hid a grimace as Litha poured another, placing it on the table between her and Zafett with a welcoming pat. The stuff tasted like hot grass. The three of them drank it with every sign of enjoyment, and Litha had looked so distressed when I gagged on my first mouthful that I’d choked down a cup every day since.

I threw it back like it was tequila, focusing on the memory of my favorite iced caramel mocha with every fiber of my being. Blegh.

“Lit ereh, Estrayuh?” Zafett asked, swiveling to face me. He leaned in, his eyes tracing over every inch of me.

In the process, he’d raised one knee, effectively caging me between him, Litha, and the table. My heart increased its tempo.

“Uh...” I swallowed and tried again. “Ix. Ray sah.I’m just a little sore,” I continued, having used up my Teterayuh vocabulary. I rubbed my shoulder. “But that’s normal, at this point.Lit ereh?” He’d been hurt in theva’grevattack, all three of them had. I’d been too out of it to see how badly last night, and now their wounds were hidden by fur and bandages.




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