“Yeah, we definitely need to get away from whatever’s screaming out there. The bad chicken does sound hungry.”
A stream of noises comes from his mouth, his fangs dangerously close to my face as he talks animatedly, still pointing.
He stops, inspecting my expression, though what he expects to get from me is a mystery.
“Sure,” I say, shrugging and only managing to press myself further into his embrace. “If you want to go that way, whatever. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
It doesn’t. I’ve all but given up any hope of being reunited with my friends. The first few days, I was sure we’d meet up with them, that I’d see them again soon, that they were all fine.
But I didn’t.
I don’t know what happened at the welcoming ceremony. I don’t know why I’m alone with a Suevan in the damn jungle, and even thinking about it makes me slightly nauseated. My teeth grind in frustration.
I’ve been stuck in this primeval alien jungle long enough now that even the Suevan’s green face is looking good. Some nights, I wish I could understand him, just so I wasn’t so damn lonely.
But the translator they gave us is crap, and half the things it spits out are complete nonsense that only manages to give me a splitting headache.
The Suevan takes off at a fast jog, his gait so effortless and smooth that I hardly bounce in his arms. I gave up trying to get him to let me walk a couple days ago.
For some reason, the big scaly dude wants to heft me around like a sack of potatoes, and at this point, I barely have enough pride left to care. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I’m filthy.
First Officer Potato Sack, that’s me.
So I sigh and close my eyes, nestling deeper into the heat of the Suevan’s bare chest.
Might as well take a nap.
CHAPTER TWO
KANUZ
My human’s asleep again, her breathing shallow and swift, her skin dull and pale. At first, she was all angry words and fighting, and I loved it. Her fierceness, her warrior nature—so at odds with her delicate appearance—set my heart aflame. I truly chose the best out of the human females.
But now, after the attack on our mating ceremony, my tough little human wife does not seem like herself. Even the flash of fury at being caught in her own snare disappeared too fast, and though I grew hard when she told me she would fuck my face, her verve was worrisomely short-lived.
She sleeps too much, eats too little. And still, my female does not understand anything I say.
The hunting pair of Crigomar—huge carnivorous reptiles—trumpet at each other. We should have been in Edrobaz days ago, but a flood and resultant mudslide cut us off from the mountain city.
And now the Crigomar, too far north and out of their normal range, separate us from safety and my yellow-haired mate’s friends.
She misses them. She’s grown used to me, yes, I can see it in the way she chatters at me sometimes, not knowing I respond in kind, waiting for her to understand me. She wants her own people. She’s said as much, her full pink lips pressed thin in worry.
My little golden-haired mate acts so tough, but she has a big, soft heart. Even if her tongue is razor sharp.
I need to try harder. I need to start over with her. I need her to trust me.
To want me.
To be mine.
My teeth gnash, my fang drawing a bead of blood on my lower lip. The Crigomar roar again, the change in their tone telling me they’ve scented prey.
I hope it is not us.
Regardless, we need to find shelter. My mate is not as tough as she pretends to be, not at all, and her fragile human constitution is clearly failing her in the wet muck of the deep Suevan jungle. She needs rest, food, and a reason to live.
I will give her all three.
I hold her closer to me. Leaves and brambles lash at my hide as I jog through the thick undergrowth. A thin, drizzly rain begins again, and she stirs as droplets dampen her soft skin.
If I remember correctly, there is an abandoned temple near here. I did not spend as much time in the jungle as the Suevan warlords, so turning this direction for shelter I think I remember is a gamble. As their prince, I was instructed in many things, including survival, but was never thrown into the wilds as they were. The other warlords no doubt know this terrain like the backs of their scales, but my memory is fuzzy.
Irritation sends my tail lashing behind me.
If I had studied Suevan geography harder, perhaps my mate would already be safely ensconced at Edrobaz. Instead, my beautiful yellow-haired female turns pale and wan, her spirit dampened by the endless heat and rain.
Something snags on my scales, a thorned vine prying several from the flesh of my leg. My speed falters, and a zitsu leaf slaps against my face. I growl in impatience, casting a glance overhead, to where the asteroid belt that rings Sueva is barely visible through the thick canopy.
I count the largest of the ice and stone chunks, using the old ways to navigate.
The temple ruins may not be the safest place in the jungle, but it beats sleeping in the open. Even a crumbling roof overhead will be better than resting out here, where the Crigomar hunt and where the endless rain erodes my female’s spirits and saps the heat from her body.
My hands grip my beautiful mate’s flesh, and she stirs in her sleep, muttering something about cupcakes, which are apparently all she’s dreamed about lately.
“That is right, little mate. Have your cupcake dreams. When you wake, I will have you safe and sound.”
And I will truly begin wooing her, doing more than simply surviving and waiting for her translator to work.
Everything about our situation is less than ideal, but my attempts at soothing her are making things worse, I fear.
I will make it better.
I will be better.
Too many days I’ve spent wrapped up in the minutiae of my royal house, of titles and a heritage that does nothing for Sueva. Too long have I spent standing on ceremony instead of making a real difference, instead of bringing all Suevans to heel under the royal house, no matter what tradition dictates. Too many nights have I spent trying to soothe the ache in me with drink and females. And now, the separatist threat has driven me and my chosen mate deep into the jungle.
The tell-tale snap of green wood bent past its breaking point echoes around the jungle. A flock of jewel-like birds bursts into the air, squawking complaints into the uncaring Suevan sky.
The reptilian roar of a Crigomar booms, so loud and close that my heart hammers against my chest.
I break into a sprint.
“What the hell?” Gen asks, her eyes wide open and fiery. “That sounds like a T-Rex, which is impossible.”
She stares up at me, and the beast screams again.
A muscle in my jaw twitches, my talons gripping the slick ground as I push my body further, faster.
“Bad chicken hungry,” she says, her fury-filled eyes melting into pure horror. “Oh god. Chickens. The translator—” She touches her ear, staring up at me. “Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs? Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse.”
My own implant sends an image of a scaled reptile, huge, in response to the word dinosaur.
“Crigomar,” I tell her. “Di-no-sawer.” I nod vigorously, trying to wrap my mouth around her strange word for the beast. Despite the fact the Crigomar are hunting us, pleasure blooms inside me.