Although I need to make some effort to show him I’m not just dead weight. A ridiculous notion, honestly. Just because I’m not a giant, murderous barbarian doesn’t mean I’m useless. I have a lot to offer: I’m gorgeous, smart, and maybe even funny if he’d ever crack a smile. Todd, buried deep in my furs, wiggles in agreement.
Dracoth strides ahead, each step crushing and melting the snow under his boots, as the howling wind forces my head to bow. I keep close, following the path he carves, the compact snow easier to traverse than the deep, sinking, undisturbed layers. He glances back at me often, his expression hidden beneath the melting snow that clings to his crimson skin. I offer him a smile each time, struggling to appear strong.
But the truth is—I’m fucking freezing!
Maybe if I hold out a little longer, I can ask him to carry me?
The thought drives me, a flicker of warmth in this frozen wasteland. Wild beasts howl, an eerie echo of wolves from Earth, sending shivers down my spine.
Dracoth halts suddenly, his muscles tense as his gaze sweeps the white expanse. He sniffs the air, his nose wrinkling as if he can detect something—I can’t smell anything. My nose is frozen solid and red, like Rudolph the reindeer.
“Uh... is something wrong?” I ask, following his gaze through the swirling snow but seeing nothing.
“Stay close,” Dracoth growls, his eyes fixated through the blustering snowflake-laden gales. His arm stretches out, beckoning me to his side.
Yay, heat!
I hurry over as he pulls me into his side. His warmth washes over me like a hot bubble bath. Even Arawnoth’s blessing on my chest begins to tingle, growing warmer with his nearness.
“You should carry me... just to be safe,” I offer with a hopeful smile, looking up at him.
I yelp with surprised joy when, without a word or even a glance, Dracoth scoops me up with a single, massive arm.
Wee!
Despite the chilling air and howling icy winds, Dracoth radiates lovely heat even through his thick armor. I don’t know how, but it’s like he’s a giant red pressure cooker and I’m a delicious frozen octopus that needs to be thawed.
So, I slink all my Lexie-pus limbs around him, conforming to his hardness, seeking to soak up as much warmth from him as I can. It’s kind of weird, but I don’t care. It feels right.
Dracoth hastens his pace, each heavy footfall reverberating through me, sending a rush of heat—not only from the red titan carrying me, but from an embarrassing yearning that flares to life in my chest, radiating to my core.
Really, Lexie? Now, of all times?
Suddenly, alien howls rise from the icy winds, deeper and more guttural than wolves, echoing in the distance. My heart skips a beat, casting frantic glances through the windswept snows, wondering what monsters could make such noises. The sound is terrifying, freezing my breath, echoing from all around us, like we’re surrounded.
We are surrounded!
Slavering beasts bound after us on bipedal legs, their white furry, scaly hides blending into the snowy wasteland. I clutch Dracoth tighter, my heart pounding in my chest as I spot their large, muzzled heads and gaping, hungry mouths lined with massive fangs. I’m no expert in horrifying alien monsters, but judging by their powerful forelimbs ending in vicious claws, I’d guess they aren’t here for treats.
Dracoth suddenly halts, sending my pulse racing as I vibrate in his arms—a silent plea to hurry the hell up!
“Crush your fears,” he growls, pivoting on the spot with his free hand flexing wide, gleaming sword-like claws bursting from his fingers.
Easy for him to say, the walking murder machine!
I can feel his excitement through our bond—hethrivesin this, of course he does. Still, his emotions are infectious, feeding a surge of relief which washes over me.
The beasts are close now, baying for our blood. A dozen of them circle around us, snapping and feinting with lightning-quick strikes, their fanged muzzles glistening with saliva, only to pull back at the last moment when Dracoth swivels to face it.
My gaze flickers wildly, trying to track them all, but their speed is disorienting. Their golden eyes gleam with ravenous hunger, their bodies tense, ready to pounce.
“Behind!” I scream, noticing one of the person-sized beasts lunge to slash at Dracoth’s blind spot with outstretched claws.
In an instant, Dracoth spins like a red tornado, his boot connecting with the beast mid-leap, sending it flying with a guttural yelp.
All hell breaks loose. His kick is like some perverse signal for bloody massacre to ensue. In a blur of motion, he whirls us both, his massive form a whirlwind of claws and crushing blows. My world becomes a chaotic haze as he spins me through the carnival of carnage, a red hurricane of destruction. Blood sprays as his claws tear through two beasts mid-air, their scaly heads splitting open with a sickening crack.
The rest crash into him, a writhing mass of claws and fangs, gnawing and rending, seeking to bring down the mountain that is Dracoth.
