Chapter 11

The fish Ras brings back is unlike any I've ever seen, not that I've spent a whole hell of a lot of time staring at fish. Iridescent scales glow faintly in the light of the cave, the fins long and fluttery. My teeth clatter against each other as Ras lays it on a nearby rock.

"You're still in shock," his says, frowning. He kneels before me, tugging one of the moldy blankets around my shoulders. "I'll make a fire. Rest."

My limbs are heavy with exhaustion. Rest is all I want. My throat closes up. No, I want so much more than that. I want to understand how exactly I got here. I want to know what the hell is going on, and I want my sisters.

But my teeth just chatter, and Ras silently continues to gather fallen branches and moss. His gaze darts back to me constantly, like he's checking on me. The predatory look is gone, the one that triggers all my alarms… and an awareness deep inside me, coiled and resting for now, but that sparks to life every time we touch.

Quiet concern replaces that intense stare, a slight tightening around his pretty blue eyes.

It's soothing, that look.

He deposits more kindling, then efficiently lights it, striking something that looks like flint together until it sparks. Despite the humid air, it catches immediately, and he hums to himself as he feeds it more branches. Maybe I can learn from him. I certainly don't know anything about survival.

Fuck. I am so tired of surviving. All I wanted was to get away with Brad, to figure out what I want, and to spend some time with my sisters. Ha. Well, I don't think I could get much further from my ex. At least there's that. I close my eyes, rocking backward.

I am so damn tired.

A branch pops, and when I look up, the fire's massive. I'm entranced. It's not the normal red and orange I'm used to; instead, it flickers yellow and green. Suddenly, Ras looms before me, and he hauls me to my feet, placing me closer to the fire.

"Here. Warm-up." He's much less talkative, his movements hurried. "I will wash the blankets. Rest."

I don't answer, and Ras shakes out the two blankets, then stalks toward the back wall of the cave. He's still naked, and it's nearly obscene, watching him walk away. The curve of his ass is a Michelangelo level work of art. His muscles flex as he walks, his back thick with them, every movement impossibly graceful and precise.

My teeth aren't chattering anymore, I drop my gaze to the fire. The harbingers. Out for my blood. A chill cascades over my back, and I scooch closer to the fire, breathing in the familiar smell of woodsmoke.

And what the hell was that light? I have powers? Do I really believe that? That I'm not actually, fully, one hundred percent human? The sound of my words as I wished on that star churn through my mind, and my stomach swims. I bury my face in my hands.

I try to control my breathing, in and out, feeling on the cusp of a panic attack. My vision's dark around the edges, and bright lights wink as I inhale. Exhale.

Vaguely, I'm aware of Ras walking around. I focus on the sound, keeping my eyes closed and my breathing steady. His footsteps stop, and the noise of the burbling hot spring stream behind us changes as he walks into it. An odd herbal scent drifts over, and a low humming persists as the splashing intensifies. My breathing evens out as I listen, grounding myself in the present, in the gritty sand and soil against the thin fabric of my pajamas, the scent of woodsmoke and herbs, the sound of Ras washing in the stream and the crackling fire.

Footsteps sound around me, then a steady dripping of water nearby. When I look up, finally more even-keel, Ras hangs the blankets from a low branch, and they drip steadily onto the sand.

He did laundry. It's such an inane thought, that I huff a little laugh. When was the last time anyone cleaned anything for me?

"Alright, Lana?"

I nod, though I'm not totally alright, not at all, really, I am warm, and nothing is trying to eat me. My cheeks heat as my gaze skates over his naked body. Well, not eat me in a literal sense, anyway.

He narrows his eyes at me, like he knows I'm not telling the truth, then grabs some fishhooks and what looks like thick fishing line and sets off for the darker pool in a shadowy part of our cave.

Our cave? I snort again. When did it become our cave?

I close my eyes, pressing my cheek against a knee, and I must doze off, because the next time I look up, Ras is opposite me, and he's caught a fish.

Silent, I watch as he efficiently guts it and scales the fish, trying to remember the last time I ate. Marshmallows, it turns out, aren't the best food for interdimensional travel.

And with that thought, I'm laughing again. Ras shoots me a confused look, all furrowed brows, hands deep in the fish. Just like a cat to catch a fish for dinner.

I cover my mouth with my hands. I can't stop laughing, and it's coming out of me in keening waves. The fire leaps higher, crackling hot. I stare at it for a moment, taking in great hiccupping breaths, before my gaze flicks back to Ras.

He's watching me, a small smile hiding underneath his big golden beard. Carefully, he skewers the meat on sticks, before walking back and handing me two raw kebabs.

I have the insane thought that he might eat his raw.

But he doesn't, instead holding it over the fire. I put mine in the flames too. The skin bubbles and blackens, the air permeated with the smell of fresh fish. Oh my god, I'm so hungry, and it smells like heaven.

"It shouldn't take it long to cook. I apologize for not taking care of your hunger sooner."

He sounds devastated, and I tear my gaze away from the fish to gape at him. "Are you kidding me? You caught this thing in record time. Bass Pro could never."

He grins, and then a troubled look sweeps over his face. "Was this Bass Pro the one who hurt you?"

I cough out a laugh, but it dies soon in my throat. "No… no. Bass Pro- it's a store. No, the man who did this," I point to my face, which while still tender, feels much better. "I left him. I hated him for a long time. I think he hated me too."

I don't know why I feel the need to tell him that, but I do. The words linger between us, the only sound the rushing of water and the warm crackle of the fire. The fish looks white now, no longer transparent, and I pull the sticks back from the heat, inspecting it. My mouth waters.

"That is good." His voice is a low rumble, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. "It is the gravest of crimes, to hurt a mate."

"Ah, he wasn't my mate. A boyfriend." Not a partner, that was for damn sure. When it comes to Brad, even the word friend feels like a misnomer.

"No, that is true, you are my mate." He says it thoughtfully, and I look away from the naked longing in his eyes. "Or you will be."

I don't have a response to that, so I blow on the fish before popping it in my mouth. It's so hot, I know I've burned the tip of my tongue, but it's so good, and I'm so hungry, I'm eating more before I can stop myself.

I'm so into finishing the fish, I don't even notice that Ras has walked away, dipping one of the stone bowls into the stream.

"Water," he announces, handing it to me. My skewers are empty, and I consider licking them until he takes them from me, only to retrieve more fish for me to eat.

I raise the pouch to my lips, drinking deeply. The water is warm and has a heavy mineral taste, but it's not bad, and I'm so freaking thirsty. I drain it.

We eat the rest of the fish in silence, not because I don't want to talk to him, because weirdly, I do, but because I am so freaking hungry. It's not a bad silence, though, it's comfortable and lived-in, like friends who know each other so well they don't need to speak.

Which, like everything else today, makes no damn sense.

I sneak looks at him between bites. We've been together for hours, for however long a day is here, and I'm still not used to his nakedness. I'm not sure I ever could be. His body is a study in a power, broad shoulders and ridiculous biceps and a stomach I could wash my clothes on, if it weren't for the fact his ridiculously huge dick would probably get in the way.

I swallow wrong, and I cough, tearing my eyes away from him. I really need to get a grip. I mean, I finally left my asshole, abusive boyfriend of three years, and now I'm ogling the dude who turns into a cat. Lion. Whatever.

My gaze skitters back to him. It's just that he's so chiseled. I don't think I've ever seen anyone that looks like that other than in a movie or in a cologne ad. His muscles have muscles. And at his height, that's a lot of muscles.

Slowly, he turns his head, and I'm caught. A blush spreads across my cheeks, and I know my chest is turning red, too. Something super apparent considering I shed my shirt and have been stuck in this bra since.

"I am glad you like the way I look." A feline grin turns the corners of his mouth up.

My jaw drops. Did I say something out loud? I think back furiously. No, but me staring at him must have clued him in.

"I think you are beautiful," he adds, and I squirm under the look he gives me. "You've stopped chattering and shaking."

So, I have. I set the stick down and hold out my hands. "It's the fire. And the food- it was really good. Thank you," I say, and I mean it. This… him taking care of me like this, it's nice. A girl could get used to it.

He sits back, looking pleased. Contentment ripples over me, exhaustion on its heels. I have so many questions, but my eyes feel heavy, and I let out a huge yawn. "I still have lots of questions."

"Ask," he rumbles.

"What was that light? When you made that promise to me?" It's the first thing that pops in my head. Honestly, I don't think I can properly process the ins and outs of space time travel or whatever in my current state.

He studies me for a moment, his smile disappearing. "It will be easier if I show you."

It sounds like a question, so I nod once, standing. I brush my hands off on my legs, but I'm utterly filthy, and it doesn't really help.

He stands too, much more gracefully than I, and I avert my eyes from his lower half, despite its best efforts to grab my attention.

"Are you always naked?"

He looks down, and I staunchly refuse to follow his gaze. "No, but I don't have anything to wear. I am sorry if it offends you." His face falls.

Aw damn. Now I feel like an ass. "I'm not offended?—"

"Good," he says, sounding smug. "As my mate, it would be a sad thing indeed if my manhood offended my mate."

For crying out loud.

I make a strangled noise, and his hand grazes my fingertips as he leads me away from the fire. I wrap one arm around my stomach, suddenly nervous.

It felt warm, prickly even, when he kissed the knuckles of my hand earlier, like some white knight out of a fairytale, and swore to me that we would find my sisters. My heart does a little squeeze. Probably at the sheer romance of it. Nothing to do with him. Just a typical reaction, societally ingrained. Involuntary. Totally involuntary.

Focus, Lana!

"Is it dangerous? The light?" It sounds silly, but he doesn't laugh.

"No, Lana Kit. Not to you." He shakes his head, and we stop in front of a shadowed portion of the streambed. "Here." He motions for me to stand at the riverbank, so I do, my flip flops sliding over the uneven rocks.

I wait, craning my head around for a glimpse of whatever caused the light. He chuckles, a low sound that causes my belly to clench, and then his fingertips are on my chin, gently forcing me to look over my shoulder at my reflection in the water.

I see my back, bare save my bra, dirt clinging to my flimsy pajama shorts, my hair a tangled mess. Gah. I look awful. With one gentle motion, he moves my hair over my other shoulder, then traces his finger across the freckles he seems obsessed with.

I inhale sharply as warmth spreads down my spine.

They light up.

Not only the freckles themselves, but the space between them, like he's connecting the dots and drawing a picture only he can see. I can't look away, staring at my rippling reflection. The shape lights up across my back, and it's familiar.

My obsessive astronomer father drilled these shapes into me and my sisters as soon as we could talk, after all. My gaze swings to the tree trunk and the crude shapes I saw there. They're all constellations, like this one on my back.

And this one? This is Leo.

The Lion.

I gulp, light-headed.

"Now you see, Lana Kit, my Alnitak star. You carry me with you always, and always have. Your blood is the blood of the stars themselves." His warm fingers still press against my jaw, featherlight. "I will teach you how to summon the light, but how you wield it is decided by the stars themselves. Once you decide to take me as your mate, you will possess your full powers."

"You're telling me having sex with you will unlock magical powers in me?" I gape at him, disbelieving.

"Exactly." He beams at me, clearly pleased I've cottoned on so quickly.

The man thinks he has a magical dick.

My gaze darts to where it hangs between his legs, and like it knows I'm looking, it starts stiffening. I swallow and look away.

"It is your decision, of course."

My decision? Of when I get a ride on the magical dick train? It's laughable, but I can't quite seem to think it's funny.

What if it's true?

I don't have a response. I stare at the lights dancing across the water, the light that lives inside me, until I can't look anymore.

"I think I want to go to sleep now," I say, and my feet have carried me across the cave before I even realize I'm moving.

I curl into a ball on the ground, vaguely aware of Ras gently putting one of the nearly dry blankets over me. It's damp, but it smells good, at the very least. I stare into the yellow-green flames, my brain replaying the day on an endless loop.

Finally, my eyes droop, then close, and I let sleep take me.