There was no way for Kalvoxrencol to have known that mating Seth would result in other humans being abducted. Also, they were soulmates; he’d had no choice once the Crystal revealed Seth, though my little brother would feel guilty. So would Seth.
“Found them.” Bartholomew held up his lenses, more cracked than before, and shoved them on. He returned to my side and bent to inspect the wound on my stomach. “Do you heal fast?”
“Faster than what?” I didn’t understand. People healed as they healed without treatment.
“Fast enough that this won’t kill you.”
“No.”
“So what do I do?”
“You’re going to help me?” I’d taken him without permission, crashed, and now, was injured and he was going to help me?
He scrubbed his shorn hair, and I wondered how it would feel under my scales. Was it pokey? Soft? Stars, I wanted to know. Would he let me touch it? Maybe. I shook my head. My thoughts were jumping about more than usual. Blood loss or shock was affecting me; I couldn’t say which or if either.
“We’re stuck here,” he said evenly. “If you die, I’m even morescrewedthan I currently am. I’m not going to cut off my nose to spite my face.”
I had no idea what “screwed” meant or why he would chop off his own nose—it was a perfectly lovely nose as far as noses went—but I understood he was helping me. I pointed to the back of the shuttle. “Can you check if the cabin is whole?”
Bartholomew struggled to his feet and disappeared from view. The moment he left my sight, I had an immediate urge to follow him or call him back. I didn’t like him being out of my range of vision. What if something happened? What if he hurt himself? What if he left and I was all alone?
“It’s fine,” he called. “Though it’s dark. I can’t see much.”
The emergency lighting must be failing. That was not good.
“There's a lantern you can take back there,” I said.
When Bartholomew returned, I gestured to a panel, telling him how to open it and how to turn the light on. After he’d finagled it open, he disappeared again, and once again, the same urge to call him back surfaced. My tail writhed and wiggled with agitation. He needed to stay within sight. That would fix everything. I was sure of it.
When he returned, I asked, “Can you help me to the cabin? I need to get out of the cold. So do you. You’re too small.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“What?” He was. Bartholomew had nothing to keep him warm.
Without a word, he hooked his thin arms under my armpits and tried to drag me, but I barely shifted. I was too heavy, and he was too slight. This wasn’t going to work. Bartholomew would never be able to manage my weight. With no other option, I tried to force myself to my feet, but I shook and my vision twisted before whiting out with the ripping agony.
“I’m too…” I tried to think of a word, but I was panting and my brain refused to work.
“Big. Muscular. Much of an asshole?”
“The last one is a swear for a butt hole. Why would I be too much of one? Or are you saying mine is large? I do not understand.” My eyes closed as I shivered.
Something cool touched my cheek, and I opened my eyes. Bartholomew grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, and my soul throbbed. His brown eyes were flecked with bits of gold and green. They were a jungle I wanted to explore. Maybe then I would understand this calm human. And I wanted to. I wanted to understand him, to know him, and I couldn’t say why.
“Stay awake,” he ordered. “You dragged me here without my permission, and I need you to stay awake. I’m not doing this alone. Do you understand?”
“I do,” I replied thickly. Why did I enjoy looking at him? It was nice. But more than that, I liked him looking at me. But that made sense. I was attractive. It was reasonable that he’d stare at me.
He vanished, and I instantly called for him. “Bartholomew!”
“Calm down,” he said. “God, you’re excitable.”
Bartholomew returned with a blanket from the cabin. He tied it under my arms, then yanked with a grunt. My armpits immediately protested the abuse, and fiery-hot claws raked over my stomach, stealing a whimper from my lips, but I moved. Hedragged and dragged, swearing under his breath, and I fought to stay conscious with the pain ripping me apart. He didn’t stop, not even to take a breath, until we were in the cabin.
I pointed at the button on the wall, shaking so violently I didn’t know if Bartholomew saw what I was gesturing to. He found it with ease and pushed it, but the door didn’t close—it didn’t even budge. That wasn’t good. We needed to conserve heat; an open space didn’t help with that. It was too cold for me, which meant it was far too cold for my small human.
My eyes closed, but the insistent fingers returned, and I forced myself to look at him.
