Page 21 of Prison Moon
Chapter Nine
Sara watched Toren walk away and wondered what she’d gotten herself in to. Less than a week on this miserable moon and it looked as if she was now shacking up with a local. What would people say?
What people?
The words whispered through her head. She snorted a laugh. What people, indeed? There was no one here other than Toren. Marcy was gone and as much as she hated thinking it, could very well be dead. Emma, the doom-and-gloom girl from the ship probably was, too. She hadn’t even run when they did, so she was probably easy pickings or she’d starved to death out in the wastes. Even if she found the girls who got away—assuming others did—what difference did it make what they thought? Would they care that the alien who caught them was the hottest thing they’d seen in years and seemed to want nothing more than to feed them and get a little kinky at night?
No. They probably wouldn’t. They’d be sucking him off every chance they got just so he wouldn’t leave them behind. If they had to be caught—and kept— by an alien, she was sure any one of those women she’d been stranded here with would have picked Toren and done it with a smile on her face as they spread her legs for him.
As hard as it was to admit, she needed him or she’d never survive. She knew nothing about this miserable moon, or what sort of creatures lived here, so if she had to repay Toren with late night slaps and tickles, then she’d do it because come end of the day—she was using him too.
And that upgrades you from slut to complete whore.
She sighed. Regardless of what that inner voice was saying, or what anyone back home would think, if she wanted to survive, she’d have to be smart and right now, staying with Toren was the smart thing to do. It also didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at.
Turning to look back up the hill, she wondered what was taking him so long. The incline was steep and now that she’d caught her breath, she could climb it. She dug her feet into the soil near the base of the hill, leaned over to grab hold of the tall grasses on the hillside and started up. Her ridiculous dress rode up her backside, but it couldn’t be helped. She slipped twice and made it halfway up when she heard what sounded like a snort or throaty groan of some kind. She looked up the hill and saw nothing other than one of those little orbs flying past. When she turned her head and looked behind her, she froze.
The—thing—that stood at the base of the hill staring up at her made her blood run cold. It was easily seven foot tall with shaggy green and brown bushy spikes all along the top of its head. More of them sprouted off the thing’s shoulders and all down its back and from here it looked like an overgrown gnarly—tree. It opened its lipless mouth as it stared at her and she wasn’t sure if it was smiling or letting her see his dental work, which he had plenty of. She didn’t care either way and turned, dug her fingers into the hill hard enough to break what fingernails she had left and started scrambling up the bank. The thing at her back made another snorting sound and started up after her. She didn’t even have to look to know. She could hear him scrabbling over the rocks.
She was nearly to the top when it latched on to her ankle. She screamed as it yanked on her leg hard enough she fell flat on her belly. It started dragging her down the hill, rocks cutting into her skin on the way down and she managed to roll over to her back and kick at it.
The thing grabbed her other foot and jerked on her leg so hard it felt as if he’d pulled it out of place. “Toren!” She grabbed the grasses, scrambling to turn back over and was still screaming Toren’s name when the thing grabbed her by the throat, lifted her off the ground with one hand and shook her like a rag doll. Sara kicked and flailed and managed to get her hands up enough to dig her thumbs into the things eyes and flinched when it bellowed in pain or rage, she couldn’t tell which. His toothy mouth opened again in a snarl, a grumbling growl hissed from his throat before his hold on her neck tightened and he turned and threw her, her body flying down the rocky hill.
She hit the ground with a grunt, the air knocked from her lungs and she gasped for air. A roar loud enough to shake the trees echoed through the forest and as her body went numb, her vision going cloudy around the edges, she could have sworn she saw the dragon again. It grabbed the creature that had attacked her and bit off its head before picking up the rest of it and grinding it between its massive teeth.
* * *
It tasted as foul as it looked but it didn’t stop Toren from ending its life. He scanned the trees for more of them and saw nothing. He shifted, his muscles still twitching from the change when he dropped to his knees beside Sarra. She was on her stomach, limbs sprawled out beside her. Blood covered the backs of her legs and bottom and deep scratches ran down both her arms. He reached out and turned her gently, picking her up and cradling her in his arms. A cut on her forehead poured blood down her face to pool in her closed eyes. He growled, ground his teeth together and wanted to kill the thing that attacked her all over again.
Slowly.
Painfully.
One brutal bite at a time.
Toren stood and carried her back to the hill and started to climb up. The length of material he’d been wearing around his waist lay halfway up the embankment and he stopped long enough to grab it and resumed his climb.
The cave was a decent size and had nothing inside but dirt and old animal droppings. Something had bedded down here once but showed no signs it would be returning. Not that it mattered. It was his now. It wasn’t as large as his lair, nor as safe, but it would do.
He carried Sarra in and walked to the back wall, then squatted down, tossing the cloth out best he could while still holding her until it was spread out enough to lay her down. He pushed her hair away from her face and used a small corner of the cloth to wipe the blood from her eye. The garment she wore was torn, the material filthy. He tore it at the shoulders, ripping it down the center before pulling it out from under her.
Scratches and cuts covered her body and there was nothing here to clean her wounds. Nothing to cover them with. He turned to look around the cave. It was bare except for the tree limb he’d used to sweep the cave floor out with. He ground his teeth. He should have waited until Sarra was up here and safe before trying to tidy up this temporary lair. She wouldn’t have been hurt if he hadn’t been so impatient.
A swift breeze blew in the entrance. It was cooler here than it had been down by the river and the air that whistled through these mountains grew colder still at night. Sarra would need a fire and clothing to stay warm.
He pushed her hair back away from her face. She was his, his to protect and provide for and he was doing a poor job of it so far. He pulled the edges of the cloth under her up around her best he could and used the ruined remains of her garment to cover the rest. He tucked it under her chin and stood, striding out of the cave, and looked across the grassy area on the ridge. A few large rocks lay not far from the cave entrance. It wasn’t much but would have to do. He shifted again, crossed to the largest boulder and rolled it toward the cave. He blocked the majority of the entrance and gave Sarra one last glance before jumping into the sky, staying low to the top of the trees and hoped those orbs or the wyvern didn’t spot him.
Scanning the horizon, he searched for signs of smoke and scented the air. Those creatures that lived here now had been gathering in small clusters before he hid in the temple, so he knew there were probably camps scattered all over the area by now, he just had to find them. He’d flown in a wide circle around the mountain and decided to go further out when he caught the scent of unwashed flesh, feces, and smoke. He spread his wings and rose higher, scanning the trees and saw the smoke a few moments later.
The camp wasn’t large, but it was big enough to provide what he needed. He drew back his mouth so his fangs were showing and hissed a breath of fire. When those he could see looked up, he swooped low, watching as they screamed and scattered into the trees.
It was easy picking once they’d run. He shifted with ease and hurried through the camp, grabbing every scrap of clothing he could find and tossing them into a few baskets he’d found. Bowls made from carved wood, soft bladders filled with liquid he assumed was water, a thick mattress that had to be softer than the cold ground, and dried meats wrapped in oiled cloth.
He shifted again, lifted what he could and scooped the rest into his mouth before taking to the sky, staying low to the trees. He’d not seen any of those orbs flying nearby but he wasn’t going to take a chance by flying high enough to be seen if any were close.
The boulder he’d placed in front of the cave entrance was pushed away with ease. He dropped the things he’d taken from the camp and shifted, picked everything up again and entered the cave, laying his stolen goods against the wall near Sarra. She was still unconscious, the blood no longer oozing from her cuts. They were dry and crusty now, dirt filling the scratches.
He sorted through the things he’d taken, uncorked the soft skins filled with liquid, pleased to find they did hold water and tore a few of the scraps of clothing into strips. Filling one of the bowls with water, he sat at Sarra’s side and washed her skin, removing the dirt and dried blood until she was as pale pink as a hatchlings belly. When he’d washed every inch of her, he covered her with a length of cloth and made a mental list of all the other things they still needed.