Page 34 of Bred By Fafnir

They’ve taken something from me.

I will kill until it is returned.

I have forgotten how to breathe.

What the world looks like when it’s not drenched in red.

My thoughts are quiet.

Only hazel eyes and a single word keep chanting steadily in my mind.

Mate.

Lenora

Slipping my guard is laughably easy. I’m a human. We’re small, weak, nothing is expected of me except maybe to annoy him or get myself killed. The latter I still hope to avoid, but I’m quickly realizing that’s more or less out of my hands.

The storm is brutal.

Building into a crescendo of needle-like ice and bellowing winds that stagger and topple me. My entire body shakes, the sound of my chattering teeth lost to the howling storm, but inside my head it's deafening. Another hard gust hits me, knocking me to my knees. Ihaven’t a clue how long it’s been, but judging by the near pitch black darkness, I’ve come far. Maybe too far, maybe not far enough. I’m exhausted, each step is taken through thick piling snow, and each of my legs weighs as much as Val’s.

I have to be close, surely.

I’m going to miss it.

I’ll be too late.

Desperation claws up my throat as I struggle to my feet, only to be knocked down again. I made a mistake, but it’s too late to go back. I need to get up.

Ihaveto get up.

Maybe in a moment.

He worked too hard, suffered too much for his child to freeze in my belly because I’m a weak, impulsive human. The bitterness is choking; it has been for days now, souring my already spoiled stomach.

My tears freeze on my lashes, my head snapping behind me when a soft crunch sounds in the snow. My heart jolts in my chest when another comes to the right. I tell myself it’s nothing. It’s been nothing for the past…. however long. Denial is a powerful tool to have in your arsenal, and I’ve spent years cultivating mine. Humans are dying out, but there’s still time to change that. The aliens hate us, but only some. Terra2 is a death sentence, but there’s hope that people make it out. Fafnir is probably already at the hands of a fate I cannot control, but maybe he’s not. I am lost, but I think I’m close to the Sihlih enclosure.

Another step to my left, followed by a deep, low growl.

I am easy prey, but they haven’t taken a bite yet. Perhaps I do not look worth eating.

There’s a quick flurry of movement behind me, and my brain slams its fist down hard on thefight-or-flightbutton.

I cannot fight something I cannot see in near pitch darkness, in an alien blizzard.

I am pregnant.

Freezing.

Sick.

Scared.

I scream.

My thighs burn and ache as I pump them, crawling, scrambling on my knees as something snaps just over my shoulder.

I’m sorry.

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