30. Kira

30

Kira

I watch, bewildered, as Drasuk's amusement curdles into a choked gasp. His chest heaves, clawed hands scrabbling at his throat.

Panic jolts me.

"What's wrong?" I blurt, concern momentarily overriding my simmering annoyance and almost boiling over arousal.

He throws a hand up, dismissively waving away my question. "Nothing," he rasps, his voice strained. "Just a little something caught in my throat."

The haughty dismissal grates on me.

This arrogant lizard nearly choked to death and now he acts like it's a minor inconvenience?

My hand instinctively tightens around my makeshift dagger, the urge to launch it at his smug dino face a very real temptation.

He is infuriating.

But logic intervenes. Throwing the dagger would accomplish nothing more than shattering it and potentially giving him a minor scratch. Besides, right now, cooperation is the only thing keeping us both alive.

Not to mention, I recognize that my rage is unfounded. He gets under my skin, and I don't like it.

Right now, that dislike is channeling into anger. It feels more comfortable than the story swapping, anyway.

I've told him more of my life and fears than anyone I can remember, and even after hearing his stories, I know almost nothing about what makes him tick. He's essentially a stranger, and I'm telling him personal things.

It's weird and I don't like feeling this way.

"Well, whatever it is," I say, my voice clipped, "get it under control. We need to move."

The sun dips behind a veil of thick clouds, casting the clearing in a cool, dappled shade. The oppressive heat recedes slightly, offering a reprieve.

"Speaking of moving," I continue, hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders, "where to from here? We can stick to the forest, avoid any more, uh, surprises like that last one."

My voice trails off, the memory of the giant creature still sending a shiver down my spine. "Maybe stay close enough to the border in case we need to cut our losses and head back to the desert."

Drasuk's spines shift in a way I know means he's amused. "Scared of a little sand now, are we, little human?"

I grit my teeth. This insufferable creature. One well-placed rock might be the answer to all my problems.

And wouldn't that be poetic justice?

With a flick of my wrist, I launch a pebble in his direction. It finds its mark with a satisfying thunk , landing squarely between his eyes. The annoying cant of his spines changes, replaced by a surprised blink.

"See?" I say, unable to suppress a triumphant smirk. "Not so invincible now, are you, lizard man?"

He groans, rubbing the spot where the rock connects. "A violent little thing, aren't you?"

"Says the nine-foot-tall killing machine," I retort, rolling my eyes. "Come on, before you decide to turn me into lunch."

For a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crosses his features. Then, with a dramatic sigh that ruffles the surrounding leaves, he rises up out of the water, considerably cleaner now.

He blinks again, and I watch his eyes warily to see the gears turning in his head before he reaches up with a sharp toothy snarl to rub the spot where the rock made contact.

"Seems the little human has a good throwing arm," he mutters.

"I have surprises."

"That has been made quite evident," he chuckles, a deep rumbling sound that sends shivers down my spine despite myself.

I flip him the bird, the childish gesture feeling strangely empowering in this alien situation. He throws his head back and laughs, a sound that echoes eerily through the trees.

Standing up, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head deeper into the forest. No point in waiting for Drasuk to decide when we move. He can follow or not, but I'm not babysitting a giant, reptilian pain in the neck.

Maybe he'll just stay here.

To my surprise, he doesn't tease or complain, but he certainly follows.

He falls into step beside me with surprising ease, his movements silent despite his size.

Was he stomping around making noise on purpose earlier just to annoy me? His stealth this morning makes it seem likely. That seems suicidal, but I wouldn't put it past him.

I steal a glance at him—his features are unreadable, his expression a mask of neutrality.

Part of me wishes I could understand him better, what goes on behind those slitted eyes. But another, more cautious part, knows that might be a dangerous path to tread.

We walk for what feels like hours; the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves underfoot and the occasional shriek or rustling of small creatures. The only fun comes in the form of watching him climb trees to look for glinting bits of silver.

The forest canopy grows denser, sunlight struggling to penetrate the thick layer of leaves overhead. The air turns even more humid and stagnant, carrying the smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation.

"You know," Drasuk finally breaks the silence, his voice low and almost hesitant, "back on my home planet, brood watchers are much less aggressive in their disciplinary methods."

"You lost me. What brought that up?"

"It's the only thing that might explain your continual rage."

I snort. "My parents were fair. We earned any punishment they doled out. I think you have this backwards. Maybe your brood watchers need to be harsher on draks, since you have an entire planet trying to kill you. An increase in rage doesn't sound all that bad in that context."

He lets out a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "Perhaps you have a point, little one."

The way he keeps calling me little one grates on my nerves, especially when it makes my stomach do a little flip.

Fuck that.

I clench my jaw and force myself to stay silent.

As the day wears on, the landscape shifts subtly. The towering trees give way to smaller, hardier shrubs, the ground beneath our feet becoming drier and sandier. The air grows noticeably warmer, the humidity replaced by a dry, baking heat.

We reach a clearing, and I stop, squinting into the distance. The rolling plains of the desert stretch out before us again, an undulating sea of sand shimmering under the harsh afternoon sun.

"Well, this is it," I say, my voice tight. "The edge of the forest."

I always was a master at stating the obvious. As if we haven't been walking parallel to it for miles.

Drasuk stands beside me, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of sand. "So it is," he rumbles, his voice tinged with awe.

I glance at him, surprised by the emotion I see flickering across his spines. "You've never seen a desert before? It's literally all we had to look at for hours before we went into the forest."

He rumbles out his disagreement. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've had my eyes on you most of the time."

The sudden explosion of heat all over my body, and especially my face sends me into a sputtering mess. One he ignores now as he keeps his attention on the rolling sand dunes ahead.

So much for never looking away from me.

"To answer your question, a good deal of my planet is a desert. I say we continue along the edges of the forest," he weighs in, rousing me from my thoughts.

Huh. Must have completely misinterpreted that look.

I raise a brow before turning my eyes westward where the line between desert and forest continues, reminding me a bit of the intersection between two walls. I shrug.

"Well, there's no sense heading out into the desert where we'll be starved of supplies. Not to mention big bad uglies you seem to like to hug."

He ignores my joke and barb about the sand creature. "Then it's decided."

He resumes walking, a noticeable lilt in his step. I raise a brow.

"Well someone's in a good mood."