17. Kira

17

Kira

I lay in the thicket, trying to find a comfortable position on the uneven ground. The night air is cool, a welcome change from the stifling heat of the day, but sleep eludes me. Drasuk's presence leaves me unsettled.

I can still feel his eyes on me, and it's infuriating.

I turn onto my side, pulling my knees up to my chest. The scent of earth and vegetation fills my nostrils, grounding me slightly, but my mind refuses to quiet down. Thoughts of Drasuk swirl in my head. A relentless storm of irritation and confusion.

He's arrogant, pushy, and infuriatingly smug. And yet, there's something about him that I can't quite shake off. Something that resonates.

"Fumbling fornicator food excrement," I hiss, echoing my earlier frustration, before almost screaming in annoyance at the realization that I've muttered out another line of word salad.

I take a pause, forcing my throat to remember what it felt like to speak English, and after a few seconds of disconcerting writhing in my throat, I test my lingua once more.

"Stupid fuck? Bullshit?"

Blinking at the realization that I'm back to the default potty-mouthed setting fills me with a bit of relief before I let out a groan once more.

I continue grumbling in English. "Why do these damn translations never get it right?"

Naturally, I get no response, so I switch back to drakonid to keep trying, as bullheaded as always.

I mutter a string of curses that sound like gibberish even to my ears. I should just give it up. Accept that there is no good way to curse in his stupid language, but it just sounds like one too many changes.

I've given up control of how my body looks, my freedom, my home, my language, and now cursing? No.

He'll have to be the one to fucking figure it out. I ignore the part of my brain telling me I'm going to keep sounding like an idiot.

I'm done changing.

The quiet of the wilderness presses in on me, amplifying the sounds of my breathing and the distant rustle of leaves.

It reminds me too much of the early years of my deployment back on Earth—the anxious waiting during hot desert nights, the eerie stillness that only heightened the tension. Except now, instead of the sweltering heat, the cool forest air wraps around me, making the memories feel even more distant and surreal.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the canopy of leaves above. The shadows play tricks on my mind, shapes shifting and merging in the dim light. Sleep tugs at my eyelids, but I refuse to give in.

I don't trust Drasuk, not fully.

He might be a capable ally, but he's still a wildcard.

I wouldn't have these damn conflicted feelings if he would just leave. As requested, hell, demanded, multiple times.

My mind drifts to the events of the day, replaying the battles and the moments of tension. The alien hunters, the crash site, the supplies we scavenged—it all feels like a blur. My body aches from the exertion, every muscle protesting against the hard ground beneath me.

Except the adrenaline still courses through my veins, keeping me on edge. Dammit.

The night is full of distant sounds, but it's the much closer relative silence that gets to me. The wind rustles the leaves, insects chirp, and somewhere in the distance, a night bird calls out mournfully. Despite the sounds, there's an oppressive quiet that makes me feel more alone than ever.

I shift again, trying to find a position that doesn't make my muscles scream in protest. The ground is cold and hard, and every rock and root feel like a personal affront.

"Damn it," I mutter, sitting up and rubbing my face with my hands.

The smooth texture of my black-suit gloves rubs against my skin to generate a bit of heat that does little to stave off the nips of cold on my skin, reminding me of how long it's been since I've had the luxury of simple comforts.

Good thing the suit could extend itself that much, I suppose. I could be stuck with a fucking bathing suit to match my sex Barbie hair.

My mind keeps drifting back to Drasuk.

Why does he have to be so irritatingly powerful? Every move he makes is calculated, every word a challenge. It's like he knows exactly how to get under my skin.

My left eyelid twitches.

Even now. I'm still thinking about the lizard.

It's not just that he's an alien. It's that he's so damn confident, so sure of himself.

I want to scream out again, but I've done enough of that for one day.

My mind wanders to our first encounter. I remember the way he moved, so fluid and precise, like a perfect predator. I didn't doubt for a second that he could have taken me down with a single, well-placed shot.

I hated him for it then, just as much as I hate him now.

I lie back down, staring up at the stars visible through the canopy. They're different here, foreign constellations that don't match the ones I grew up with. It's an uncomfortable reminder of how far from home I am.

I wonder what my family is doing right now, if they're safe, if they even think about me. If they are mourning me like we all mourned our parents. Hopefully not like my mother mourned my father.

Likely, the only thing that brought me out of my own addiction was the realization that I was becoming like her.

I let out a huff through my nose. That's not fair either. She was fucking amazing before he was killed.

The thought brings a pang of homesickness, a dull ache that settles in my chest.

The forest around me is alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. I try to focus on them, to use them as a distraction from my thoughts. It's no use.

My mind keeps circling back to Drasuk. To the way he looks at me with that infuriating stare.

I wonder what he's thinking about. Probably nothing good. He's always plotting, always scheming, something tells me. Willing to play with my mind.

It's what makes him so dangerous. He's so focused on me, trying to figure me out.

I'm afraid of what he might find.

My eyelids are growing heavy, but I fight it. I can't afford to sleep, not with Drasuk so close. I need to stay alert, to be ready for whatever he might do, but the exhaustion is overwhelming, a weight pressing down on me.

I close my eyes, just for a moment, telling myself I'll stay awake.

The darkness behind my eyelids is soothing, a welcome respite from the constant vigilance. I let out a long breath, trying to release some of the tension coiled in my muscles.

My thoughts drift, the edges blurring as sleep tugs at me. I think about the mission, about the importance of what we're doing. Survival. Find the others.

It feels like a lifetime ago that I cared about anything other than survival.

I remember the faces of my comrades, those who didn't make it. Their ghosts haunt me, whispering in the quiet of the night. I can see them, their expressions etched in pain and fear. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories. But they're always there, lurking in the shadows of my mind.

A sudden rustle in the bushes nearby snaps me back to full alertness.

My heart pounds as I sit up, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Every nerve in my body is on edge, ready to spring into action, but there's nothing. Just the wind and the trees and the distant call of a night creature.

I lie back down, but the moment of near-panic has driven away any lingering drowsiness. I stare up at the stars again, counting them as if it will help me stay awake.

One, two, three...

But there are too many, and my mind wanders back to Drasuk. Always back to Drasuk.

The way he moves, the way he talks, it all grates on my nerves. There's something else there, too, something I don't want to admit.

A grudging respect, maybe. He's good at what he does, and he knows it. He's a survivor, like me. Maybe that's why I can't shake him from my thoughts.

He's a mirror, reflecting parts of myself that I'd rather not see. Just how much of my humanity have I lost in my quest to forget? I haven't let anyone tell me.

He won't hold back pointing out my flaws, I'm sure of it. Am I ready to face them?

I shift again, trying to find a comfortable position. The ground is unyielding, but I force myself to settle. The night is growing colder, and the chill is already working its way into my bones.

It makes it easier for my eyelids to droop over my eyes, and shortly after that, I don't feel much of anything else as the world fades to black.