Page 17 of Sink or Swim

I don’t think, at least. Back home, I’ve seen wounds much, much worse than this. I’ve watched friends bleed out right before my very eyes. I know what you need to hit in order to cause the most damage. To kill someone quick, or to drag out the process. Whatever we were ordered to do. So long as Oona’s anatomy isn’t too far off from my own, I’ll be able to help her.

But I need supplies. We don’t have any. Nothing to administer first aid.

“Shit. What to do….” I grab my hair and pull as I look around frantically. Oona’s breathing is still labored, which worries me. I’ve never seen her hurt like this before. Oona, the eight-foot queen of the lagoon, who seemed so invincible before. And she took that hit for me. To save me. I can’t let her die. Not after everything we’ve been through together.

Despite my protests, Oona pushes herself up to sit and leans back against a nearby tree trunk.

“Nick.” Her voice is so weak. My heart lurches, but I lean forward so I can hear her.

“What is it?” I ask. I’m pathetic. Worse than pathetic, really. I’m useless to her. In her hour of need, I can’t do a damned thing to help her.

Oona takes my hand into hers and closes her eyes, and for a moment I swear she’s going to pass right then and there. My throat bobs, and I brush my palm against her cheek as tears slide down mine.

“Please, Oona. Stay with me. Stay. We have so much left to do. I’ve been making plans for us. You can’t?—”

Then Oona, my fearless warrior queen, picks up my hand and hocks the biggest, phlegmiest loogy into my palm.

I blink. “Oh … okay. What?—”

“Wound. Press,” she rasps.

I look down at my saliva-filled palm, and suddenly, a light bulb goes off over my head. Of course! Her spit! I waste no more time in rubbing the wound with her saliva.

She hisses, and her tail thrashes in the grass. No doubt this is beyond painful, but the wound begins to close up seamlessly within moments. The tusk is forced out of the bloody hole and thrown onto the ground with the rest of the boar. Oona’s side is completely healed without even a scar as evidence.

“Nick,” she whispers, her throat scratchy and raw. I frown as I look her up and down. She might appear fine now, but something tells me it’s not a good idea to start moving around too quickly. Not yet.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s all right. I got you. We’ll be on our way soon enough,” I murmur.

Oona rubs her side, then smiles down at me. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you, Nick.”

I lift her hand and brush my lips across her knuckles. “It was my honor, helping you.”

Oona leans forward, brushes some of the hair out of my eyes, and kisses me on the mouth. It’s sloppy at first, and unpracticed, but I don’t care. She could kiss like a fish for all I care, and I would still love every second of it. I deepen the kiss and run my fingers through her soft waves before nibbling on her bottom lip.

She pulls away and traces the spot I bit with her claw. Blinking, she murmurs, “What? Why?”

I chuckle. “Just a little nibble. Claiming you,” I say with a wink, then push myself up to stand. I don’t want to move her too soon, but we might not have a choice. Come nightfall, we’ll be in dire straits unless we find a place to camp. Reluctantly, I offer her my hand. I hate that I have to do this, but we can’t risk it. “Come on. We’re burning too much daylight. We should get a move on and find someplace to set up camp.”

Oona takes my hand into hers and continues to stroke her bottom lip as we make our way through the brush.

OONA

By the time the sun is setting in the sky, we’ve found a decent spot to camp. It’s not the tree house, so it isn’t exactly safe, but it will do for now.

I set up a lean-to made of sticks and a blanket we brought along. I’d prefer for us to be off the ground, but that just isn’t possible in our current circumstances. Hopefully, I’m the most dangerous creature in this part of the woods, but there are spiders, insects, and snakes to be wary of. Nick builds us a cozy fire while I pat the dirt for the millionth time with my tail, ensuring it’s soft enough for him to lie on. I want him to be as comfortable as possible. He deserves to be comfortable.

Once he’s finished, he sits down beside me, covers my hand with his, and smiles. I don’t want to lose him, but I know that this is for the best. He’s not of my world, and the longer he stays, the more likely everything will end in heartache. At least if I send him back to his own environment, only one of our hearts will be broken. His life will continue, and he will have a future somewhere out there. It’s not pleasant, but it gives me solace, knowing he’ll soon be where he needs to be.

“I think we’re just about done setting up,” I say in my own tongue, watching Nick toss a few more logs onto the fire. I don’t expect him to understand me. Not fully. He’s getting better at speaking my language, but we’re still a ways off from fluency. He can ask for food, tell me if he’s hurt, tell me when he’s tired or needs to relieve himself. He can also alert me to danger. But that’s about all.

“Can probably rest for now,” I murmur, and scoot over on the ground beneath the blanket to give him room, but instead of joining me, he rolls his pants down over his hips to dry them out by the fire. He kicks them off, allowing his cock to spring free.

To my surprise, he’s fully erect. I haven’t even done anything. What could have made him so hard, I wonder?

A whisper of a smile flashes across my face before I look away, pretending not to see, but he’s in front of me on his knees and pulling on my hands. Pulling them to his face. He asks me a question in words I don’t understand yet, and I respond with, “Sorry.”

“No sorry,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “Don’t be sorry, lovely.”

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