Page 65 of Sohut's Protection

“Here goes,” she murmured, and the alien grunted that he understood.

Pressing the blade against his back, she tried to pry free the thing embedded in his skin but it didn’t budge.

“Shit, it’s really in there, isn’t it. I don’t want to cut you.”

“You’ve stabbed me before… This would be a flesh wound,” the alien murmured and Cleo sighed.

“It wasn’t because I wanted to stab you. Plus, I was protecting myself. This is different.”

The alien grunted again, his gaze focused outside the cave.

Finally able to hook the edge of the blade into the thing, a sharp pull had the urchin dislodging and it fell to the cave floor as blood rose from the wound it left behind.

Cleo swallowed hard.

Despair flooded through her.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said and she was sure of it this time—he stiffened underneath her hand.

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry you’re hurt like this. I thought worse had happened but this is still very terrible.” She pried out another one of the things and blood rushed to the surface of his skin.

It must hurt so bad.

“Really sorry,” she whispered as she got to work on another one.

At her words, the alien turned to regard her, his green eyes narrowing.

She couldn’t read what he was thinking but when he didn’t say anything else, she accepted the silence and continued working on him.

* * *

The sea urchins took a long time to dislodge and by the time she was finished, her own arms and shoulders were aching.

She’d ended up kneeling behind him to get the worst of them out and now, after she pried the last one out, she settled back on her haunches, a heavy sigh leaving her frame.

Her gaze traveled over the absolute carnage that was his back.

There was blood everywhere and it was a good thing she wasn’t squeamish.

“That’s all of them,” she breathed, her voice soft as she rolled her shoulders.

The alien turned and looked at her, his gaze moving over her face.

“What’s that on your face, Cluu?”

Her aching shoulders stiffened immediately and to her dismay, the little dots that ran down the alien’s nose seemed to scrunch up a bit.

Was he making fun of her? In his state?

“There’s nothing on my face.” There wasn’t, was there? She resisted the urge to brush her hand over her cheek. Her hands were stained with his blood and she’d only make a mess.

“Hmm,” the alien said, “thought I saw regret. Must have been mistaken.”

Cleo released an exasperated sound and the alien chuckled. “I didn’t cut the vine.”

His gaze softened as he looked at her. Reaching for his satchel, he pulled out that thing he’d put on the first wound she’d dealt him in the arm.

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