Page 44 of Captured

When the support finally came into view he cast an assessing glance at Flea. She was the type to keep pushing through anything, but four levels equaled a lot of stairs, and she already seemed exhausted. Any other female he’d have offered to carry but he knew what she’d say to that.

His huff of amusement caught her attention, pale eyes turning to his. Her candle had burned out long ago and she’d tossed it aside, leaving him to guide them and watch for danger. He was proud she’d become comfortable enough with him to give him that trust.

“My feet are aching, why don’t we take a little break before starting up?”

Her lips pursed, brow raising. She knew he was lying but she didn’t call him on it, only turning to put her back to the wall of the support before sinking to the ground with a groan.

“This would be a lot easier if you could just fly us up.”

Gra’ar huffed, taking a seat beside her. He was careful not to touch since she’d been avoiding contact since he caught her leaving the house, but he was still close enough to be swamped in the scent of her.

“Well if someone hadn’t jumped off a level before giving me time to think of a better escape, we’d have one less to climb.”

Her chuckle loosened his muscles, allowing him a touch of hope that she’d pull through everything unscathed, but the knowledge that she was going to be on her own in these depths soon had him tensing again.

“It worked. We got away.”

“We almost got splattered.”

The grin she shot him was wicked, her eyes dancing.

“I believe someone did end up getting splattered.”

His jaw dropped in shock before his own chuckle rumbled up to blend with hers. He’d loved the feeling of her slick coating his chest, knowing it was all for him.

Quiet descended again but it felt lighter, Flea’s mood having lifted. Her shoulders didn’t curl in anymore and she held her head up, taking interest in the area around them.

“This is the nicest area on any level I’ve been on. Would have been a good place to loot.”

He grunted, looking around at the buildings. He’d still call the area a city, but it wasn’t as dense as the other areas they’d passed through, and there wasn’t as much debris or graffiti.

Catching the color swirling on Flea’s arm from the corner of his eye, he turned his attention to it, finally taking the time to figure out what it was. Surprise hit him when he noticed the different levels. From elbow to the crest of her shoulder, each level from Top to Ninth was represented, woven together with a vine of flowers. The flowers on the lower levels were smaller and lacked color but grew more vibrant as they curled up her arm, finishing with a brilliant bloom under the sun at the top.

“Ready?”

He lifted his gaze to hers, questions on the tip of his tongue, but he let them die unasked. It was clear how much her life and freedom meant to her, and the tattoo was just another representation of her rise from where she’d begun. He knew if she had her way, she’d reach the sun too.

“Let’s do it.”

Pushing to his feet, he held out a hand for Flea, pleased when she accepted his help. Pulling her upright, they both turned to the stairwell door. The one above had been easy to open but he had a feeling this one wasn’t used as much. They hadn’t encountered anyone on Eighth and even his sensitive senses hadn’t picked up signs of inhabitants.

Taking hold of the handle, he gave a tug, proving himself correct. The door didn’t want to give, and he struggled to force it open enough to curl his fingers around the edge for more leverage.

Flea fussed at his back, pacing and muttering. He knew she felt useless but what little strength she had wasn’t going to help. She’d only end up hindering him.

Bracing his foot against the frame like he had with the first door he forced open, he strained until sweat broke out along his skin. It only earned him a little more space and he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. There was no sign of debris blocking the door and what he could see of the hinges didn’t look rusted enough to resist as much as it was.

“I think I can squeeze through.”

Gra’ar released the door, turning to glance back at Flea. She was eyeing the dark opening, fists clenched at her sides.

“You could fly up and meet me at the door above.”

Her gaze moved to meet his. The Flea he’d met would be trying to trick him, using the opportunity to slip away, even if it meant going down to a level with air considered too toxic to sustain life, but her eyes begged him to trust her. Considering how much she’d put in him, he couldn’t deny her.

Making a slow nod, he looked from her to the opening again. It was going to be a tight fit, but she was slim enough to squeeze between the door and the frame.

“Okay. Let me try to get it a little wider, then you can slip through.”

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