Page 32 of Prison Moon
Chapter Twelve
Toren couldn’t get the sanctuary Utan had talked about out of his head. Was he talking about Dra’lera?
He held Sarra’s hand as they walked back to the cave, the basket of small fish and sidra roots and what was left of the nosha leaves in the basket tucked under his other arm, his thoughts so consumed he nearly walked right past the cave entrance. Sarra tugging on his hand snapped him from his musings.
She smiled and gave him a questioning look before rattling off something in her odd language. He missed the stranger for no other reason than he could tell him what his Sarra was saying. Envy filled him a moment later knowing that creature had talked with his mate and he could not. He squeezed her hand, then let it go, setting the basket down to move the rock from the cave opening. Sarra said something as the rock rolled away. She was smiling when he looked over at her. She grabbed the basket with one hand, his arm with the other and squeezed the muscle there. Was she talking about his strength? He smiled. If that impressed her, he’d have to show her more.
The fire had died to glowing embers. It took a few minutes to get it blazing again. He’d cleaned the fish by the stream so, while Sarra was storing the nosha leaves and sidra, he sat the heating rock in the fire and laid the fish out to cook. He’d eat it as is but Sarra had made a gesture as if she was going to be sick when he suggested it. She liked her food cooked, so he’d take the time to cook it for her.
She settled on the pallet bed a few moments later and said something to him. When he looked her way, she pointed to her mouth, then her ear, then out toward the cave entrance. Talking to her was much like a game now. She’d make gestures and he’d try, unsuccessfully most of the time, to figure out what she meant. He thought he knew what she meant now, though. “The translator,” he said. Her smile was blinding, her head bobbing up and down as she nodded. He turned the fish and sat down on the pallet with her. “There are a few camps nearby but I have no way of knowing if they have one or what they even look like, for that matter. If I were to see one, I’m not sure I would know what it was.” She frowned. “There’s also getting into the camp without being seen.”
He’d flown in last time, but Sarra had been injured and he’d not cared who saw him but wouldn’t risk it now. Utan’s mention of the wyvern had caused the fire in his chest to burn hotter. Their kind had betrayed the Draegon and now that they worked for the ones who invaded all those centuries ago, they’d take great pleasure in capturing him and in doing so, Sarra would be in danger of being taken by anyone who found her.
He stayed lost in thought until the fish was done, then cooled each piece and let Sarra eat until she’d had her fill. He ate what remained even though cooking it had burned away most of the flavor.
Sarra washed her hands and face and laid down, staring into the fire. Neither said much after that, each lost in thought. The things he’d taken from the camp were neatly stacked in one corner, the rock covering the entrance blocking out the fading sunlight and even though the cave was dry and warm, it wasn’t good enough for his Sarra. She deserved paradise. She deserved Dra’lera.
He’d made his lair high in the mountains so he could see the world as he slept but the majority of his people had been hidden away deep within the mountain surrounded by lush greenery and food plentiful enough none ever went hungry.
He looked over at Sarra. Her eyes were closed, her hands tucked under her cheek. The sorry bed she slept on wasn’t enough to cushion her body from the hard stone floor of the cave. The clothes she wore were two sizes too big and—
Toren ran his hand through his hair. This was not what he wanted for her. For them. Hiding out in some dank cave. Living in fear someone would see her and try to take her from him. She needed to be somewhere she was safe to roam as she wished and could be happy. She didn’t seem unhappy with their current situation but he didn't want to give her time to rethink being with him. For her to think someone else may give her more than he could.
The wood on the fire popped. He stirred the coals and braced his arms on his knees. They couldn't stay here. As shelters went it was suitable but it was no home. It wasn’t good enough for his Sarra. Neither was his mountain lair. She’d be safe there from any who sought to take her but she’d also be trapped.
He looked back at her and watched her sleep. If Utan was heading to Dra’lera then it meant people were still there. Maybe his people were still there. The thought of other dragons surviving filled him with sudden hope. He’d not seen his brother since the war. He had no idea if he even still lived but if he did, Tharius would no doubt find his way back there and come morning, so would he.
* * *
Sunlight streaming into her face, and the sound of things shifting woke her. Sara blinked and shielded her eyes before turning her head completely. Toren was near the cave wall, the basket they used the day before by his foot. He was stuffing things into it.
She leaned up on her elbows and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “What are you doing?”
He smiled at her before leaning over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ve found what I could for you to eat. We’ll be able to find something more satisfying once we get moving.”
“Moving?” Sara sat up and stretched. “Are we going somewhere?”
“I’ve replenished our water so wash and drink your fill. We’ll leave once you are finished.”
Well, that answered that question. She wanted to ask where they were going and why but didn’t. It would have been pointless anyway and playing a game of charades this early in the morning was too much work.
Toren had the sidra roots laying on the wooden plate, along with what looked like some sort of nut and a few berries. It wasn’t much but she’d never been big on breakfast anyway. She ate what she could, then washed it down and stood. Toren had packed all their meager belongings into two of the largest baskets. Apparently they were moving—literally.
He looked her way and she pointed to the baskets, then to them and the cave entrance. Grabbing what was left of the nuts, he popped them into his mouth and poured a bit of the water over the fire. “We go to Dra’lera. Utan mentioned a sanctuary hidden somewhere in the mountains. My people are from a place called Dra’lera. It has been hidden for centuries. If that is the place he was talking about, then it means my people may still be there.”
His people? Sara stared at him, his words repeating in her head. Was he native to this place? Was that why he didn’t have a translator like everyone else did? Was he not a prisoner? Is that why he seemed so different from the others? Because he wasn’t a violent criminal? Although, Utan didn’t look very violent either and he was still here.
There was no way to ask other than a game of charades and she wasn’t sure he’d even get her meaning, so she didn’t bother. When they were packed and ready to go, Toren cupped her face in his hands, lowered his head and kissed her so long and slow her whole body was tingling by the time he pulled away. “This place is not good enough for you, Sarra.” His lips brushed across her mouth. “I would give you the moons if I could.” His tongue slipped between her lips again. She inhaled, the scent lingering on his skin filling her head as he deepened the kiss. “I’ll give you a home worthy of a queen. There is nothing you’ll ever have need of, this I promise.”
He kissed her breathless before stepping away to grab the baskets. She put on the sorry excuse for shoes the Big Head’s had given her and headed to the cave entrance where Toren waited.
The sky was clear today and she was able to see for miles. The river in the distance reflected the sun’s rays and lit up like a ribbon of shiny glass. Several thin tendrils of smoke filtered through the trees some distance away. She saw others in every direction she looked. Those had to be the camps Utan had mentioned.
Sara took the smallest of the baskets Toren held and followed him toward the stream they’d visited the day before. They refilled the water skins when they reached it then crossed to the other side and headed in the same direction Utan had gone.
They said little as they walked, climbing higher up the mountain. The hills were steep here and Toren had to pull her up a few of the more difficult climbs. The sun was high in the sky by the time they stopped to rest.
Sara sat down and greedily drank from the water skin, squealing when she spilled half of it down the front of her makeshift shirt dress. One look from Toren and she knew what he was thinking as he looked at her breasts. That spicy sweet scent filling the air did too. When he was aroused, the scent grew thicker—stronger. And every time she smelled it, her womb clenched hard and she grew damp between her legs. She was convinced the scent was a pheromone. It had to be.