Page 11 of The Hunter's Mate
“You’ll sleep in my alcove,” he says. “Come.”
He springs to his feet with the help of his tail, then extends a hand to help me up. My thigh is healing faster than it would have on its own, probably with the help of his alien medicine, but I accept his hand anyway.
It’s the first time he’s touched me since the initial shock of meeting him, and I get butterflies like I might have when a boy asked me to two-step years ago. I jerk my hand away as soon as I’m standing, scolding myself for thinking that way about a guy with scales.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Let’s go—I’m tired.”
Nyrik gestures into the ship and I go in first, understanding he’s doing this because, in a way, I’m still his prisoner. I can hear his talons click on the floor behind me, the soft brush of his tail. I go back up a small staircase to the upper level, where he originally treated my wounds, and he gestures at the alcove I saw earlier.
“You’ll sleep here,” he says.
“And where will you sleep?”
“On the edge of the alcove,” he says, “to ensure that we both get some rest without you escaping.”
I groan. “You know you can trust me, right?”
His frill flutters. “I would be a poor hunter if I didn’t keep my guard up.”
I scowl and crawl into the alcove, finding that it’s padded all around the interior. It isn’t like a human bed, but it’s actually really comfy—and it smells good, like cucumber and fresh water.
I curl up with my back to the wall, watching Nyrik as he climbs in after me. There’s plenty of room for the two of us and he doesn’t crowd me at all, but I find myself wishing he would. I’ve been alone for at least a week—maybe more, losing track of the days—and Nyrik has been good company.
And he’s strange and different.
Someone I could grow to like.
His golden eyes fix on me from where he lays, his body curled up with his tail around him. We stare each other down, the only movement Nyrik’s flicking tail and my fluttering eyelashes. Minutes ago, I was exhausted—but now, all I can do is stare at him, unwilling to close my eyes.
“Sleep, Fawn,” Nyrik murmurs, his voice a low drone.
My eyes flick over his full suit of armor, covered from neck to ankles in shiny black fabric. Even the base of his tail is covered up, like he doesn’t trust me not to slit his throat in his sleep.
I’m less and less inclined to do that every moment.
“Do you always sleep fully dressed?” I ask.
“No.”
I curl my lips in a smirk. “You can trust me,” I say. “We have an agreement.”
“You speak of trust when you refused to bathe or get out of those dirty clothes,” he says. “I will keep my armor on.”
“You’re wearing dirty clothes, too,” I argue.
“My armor wicks away moisture and debris,” he says. “Meanwhile—you are filthy. I’ll allow you to sleep in my bed anyway, but—”
“Fine,” I say, cutting him off. “Run me a bath and I’ll stop getting your bed dirty.”
Nyrik’s frill flares and he gets abruptly out of the alcove, stepping across the corridor of the ship and toward the recess I noticed earlier. He taps on another control panel on the wall, then water begins to fill the dark stone tub from the bottom. It’s big enough to be more like a jacuzzi for me, and the hot water wafting from the top looks awfully appealing. I haven’t so much as had a shower since I left town.
I drag myself back out of bed and stand up straight, immediately stripping off my shirt. Nyrik isn’t looking, and his frill flares with a flash of emerald when he looks back at me and sees my bare torso.
“What?” I say. “Never seen a human woman naked?”
“…no.”