Page 14 of Ragnar

Now that I have him safely behind closed doors, I rush around to get things ready. Ripping saddle pads off the shelves, I build a nest in the corner furthest from the door. Moving Ragnar towards it, I grimace when my hands come away covered in blood. Leaving him standing between some shelves, I grab a fly-spray bottle and rush to the sink. Dumping it, then filling it with water I rush back to him and get to work cleaning as much of him as I can. When he is mostly clean, I focus the blast of the water on the gnarly bite mark.

A thick yellow liquid oozes out of it. Every survival guide ever would tell me to suck the venom out, but there is no telling what it would do to me. I can’t help him if I die from trying to suck alien snake venom from an alien wound. Tossing that idea to the side, I push him the rest of the way to the nest of saddle blankets. This time when he teeters, he falls the rest of the way to the ground in a scaley heap.

My heart clenches guiltily, but I am just lucky that I got him in the first place. I can apologize for any bruises later when he wakes back up. He must wake back up. As selfish as it sounds, I need him. In such a short time he has become my rock, my companion. Without him I truly am lost in this new world, a world I was just beginning to open back up to with him at my side.

Chapter Ten

*Ragnar*

I am burning up. My insides feel like they are on fire, a sensation I have never experienced before and one I never wish to feel again. There is no way for me to know how long I’ve been in this purgatory, but it feels like an eternity as it spreads throughout my entire body. In the beginning there is no room for anything but the burn, but as time goes on awareness returns. With it, comes knowledge. With knowledge comes fear.

Regreee. Her name bursts from my lips even as I am blinded by the inferno within me. It is a cry filled with all the fear I feel for my fragile mate. The Naga, the human word for it, wanted to take her from me. Did he succeed? His venom leeches through my veins, warring with my rage at the thought of losing her to one such as he. Memory and reality clash together, stealing rational thought.

As fast as my rage comes, it is washed away by the feel of soft hands upon my face. With that light touch comes a cooling sensation that is like a balm to my tortured soul. The hands of my mate. She wasn’t taken from me after all. Her name rises from the depth of my soul once more but only a whimper escapes, my throat as ravaged by the flames as the rest of me.

“Shhhh. I’m here Ragnar.” Those words are short, but their effect is like nothing else I have ever known. That simple phrase lights me up, banishing the flames as they spiderweb their way from my hearts outward. She is here. My love and devotion for her overwhelms me until I can do nothing but send out vibrations to convey my feelings.

I cannot see her, blinded as I am, but I know she feels it. Her whole-body jolts with the vibration and she gives a watery laugh as her hands run down my face to my chest. Her sadness is visceral, tearing into me in a way that the flames never could. Why is she sad? Who hurt her? Did the Naga come back and get to her? Our battle is fuzzy, made worse by the bite he delivered when I…when I tore his head from his shoulders. At least I think I did.

Thrashing my head side to side, I try to clear my thoughts, needing to remember what happened. It is no use. As soon as her hands leave my scales, the flames return hotter than ever. They sweep every thought from my mind once more until I can do nothing but burn and I be swept once more into oblivion.

My next rise from the flames feels like it takes an eternity. I am still blinded. Still unable to see the world around me. Smells assault my nose now, at least one sense returning to me. Blood. The acrid scent of Naga blood is like a stab in my snout. I shake my head back and forth to try and clear the offensive smell from it.

“Shhhh. You must be quiet. It is nighttime. Please Ragnar.” The voice of my mate is like music to my tortured ears and I immediately quiet, not realizing I was moaning until her tearful, fearful request reaches me. The need to protect rises to the surface, driving me to fight the burn. I am nothing without my mate. I must rise above this pain; I must protect her.

My muddled thoughts cannot identify any clear danger but just hearing that it is nighttime sends me into a tizzy of motion. My damned eyes refuse to clear as I stumble to my feet. My mind swims as the burn of the venom intensifies. My determination is clear and strong. I must get to the door.

It waivers the moment I hear her soft cry of alarm. Warm hands hit my chest as I sway, my arms lift to catch myself, but I am all too aware of my dagger-like claws against the soft flesh of my mate. Letting them fall back to my side, I let her push me backwards until I am off balance and crashing back to the ground. My fall is far softer than I anticipated, the bedding beneath me catching me by surprise.

“Stay the fuck down. You’ve barely been out a few hours. That venom is still in your system, and I don’t need you drawing some beast our way.” She snaps, her voice barely able to be heard.

Fear for her takes over once more and I stop to listen, aware of the background noises that filter through the walls around us. Guilt eats at me. My mate is wise, and I instantly stop my struggles. If I must endure this burn without a single complaint to keep her safe, then I will do so. When it finally passes through my system? Nothing will stop me from being with her.

Chapter Eleven

*Reggie*

Night passes slowly. Hour after hour ticks by, or at least I think it does. The only sign of passing time is the horrific sounds that filter through the door as monsters and beasts alike come to investigate the torn body in the next room. I may not be able to see what they look like, but as time ticks by my imagination fills any gaps. My fear builds at my imagined monsters until I am lying directly beside the sleeping Ragnar, my gun pointed straight at the door.

Floofy must also hear the noises because it comes to sit on my lap, snuggling into my body as if to seek shelter from certain doom on the other side of the door. If they are even half the size of Ragnar, then we are screwed. No flimsy store wall can keep them out if they have half a mind to get in.

As for the monster in the room, Ragnar sleeps fitfully. So much so that I am afraid that the monsters outside will hear him and come to investigate. I shush him as best I can, but every heartfelt whisper of my name breaks me down until I can do nothing but try to comfort him through his fits. My touch helps the most and finally I lay my hands upon his back and pet him until the skin there is raw and bleeding from the scrape of his scales.

I can’t find it in me to care about the pain. I simply wrap them and keep petting, praying that he awakens soon. Not the fevered ramblings of before, but truly wakes up and stares at me with those unfathomably deep eyes. At this point I even consider promising to be his wife if that means that he wakes up. At one point I considered whispering that into his ear just to see if it would work. I chicken out though, afraid that it might just do the trick and then I’d be left to fulfill that bargain.

Thankfully I do not have to do anything that drastic. The change that comes upon Ragnar is fast. One minute he is burning up to the touch, his wound leaking the icky yellow venom and the next the heat leaves his body in a rush and his wounds begin to heal. Startled at the abrupt change in temperature, I scoot back and watch his face for any signs of life.

A crash in the next room makes me flinch but I do not stop staring. Silent prayers play through my mind as I watch him for any other signs that he might be getting better. An hour or two must pass, yet my eyes never leave his sleeping form. One moment I am staring at his sleeping face and the next I am flung onto my back, his massive body hovering over my own, pining me to the concrete. His intense gaze seems to hold me captive as he rakes it over me from head to toe.

“Regreee safe.” He murmurs, my name sounding like a forbidden caress upon his alien lips. His voice is rougher and deeper than before. Tensing, I let him look me over, sensing the danger that lurks behind his worry.

Growing up I was convinced I could make any predator my passive little pet. No matter how dangerous the animal, I wanted to try. Ragnar is no animal, but I feel the rush of skirting that danger once more. His closeness is an unexpected aphrodisiac with the danger he presents. It is an odd combination when mixed with my unfailing sense of safety. Of rightness.

“Ragnar safe.” I mutter back, rendered senseless by the warring emotions that are running hot and cold through my veins. His gaze is wild, so unlike the Ragnar I know and yet I can tell he is there as well. Leaning forward, he sticks his snout against my neck, breathing me in before trailing down and over my shoulder and to my belly. Squirming I try to escape the odd onslaught, but his massive forearm comes down across my hips, holding me in place as he continues.

His scales are rough, but it sends a shiver through me as they glide across my skin. An alarmed squeak escapes when he crosses over my core even though he doesn’t stop there, continuing down my body and then back up until he rests at my neck. Taking a deep breath, he breathes me in once more before speaking in his broken English.

“Regreee safe. No wounds.” He says in a sigh, as if that alone calms the battle inside of himself. Expecting him to rise away from me now that he has confirmed I’m okay, I am shaken when he flops to the side of me. He keeps his snout against the skin of my throat but draws me into his embrace until I am cocooned safely in the tangle of his limbs.

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