Page 32

Hunger.

I had never truly known hunger before. Sometimes, when I worked late and didn’t want to stop coding, I’d go hours with an empty stomach and think, God, I’m so dedicated to this company, working while starving.

But that was nothing compared to this.

For the last twenty-four hours, the only thing I’d eaten was that weird paste Sariel had made.

I gave both clams to him. I had to lie because I knew he wouldn’t agree to take them otherwise. But he’d gone hungry almost the entire day before.

He depended on me. I knew his leg wouldn’t be fully healed for a long time. I’d sprained my ankle as a kid as well. I remembered that the first week was awful. Sariel hadn’t even taken that much of the painkillers. He was tough.

I couldn’t expect him to walk on that injured leg, barely held together with makeshift splints, while waves knocked him around and his foot twisted in the soft sand. That was out of the question.

The responsibility of finding food was mine.

The morning was rough.

I was weak, so weak. Without waking Sariel, I got up and stepped out onto the beach.

Even though I’d taken an extra blanket today, I was still shivering. The wind was freezing, and the snow that had fallen overnight now covered the sand. The sun was barely peeking through a thin veil of mist, giving off no warmth at all. But what else could I expect in January?

A thought hit me: ’H’ was probably buried again. I shot a grim look toward the slope where, about a fifteen-minute walk away, the seats lay. I should go there, fix the letter… but food. I needed to find food first.

Staggering against the sharp, icy gusts, I made my way down to the shoreline, my teeth chattering as I pulled off my boots. The moment I stepped into the water, my whole body tensed. The first section, where the water was slightly warmer, had already been searched thoroughly. I hadn’t expected to find anything there, so this time, I had no choice, I had to go deeper.

Today, the waves were higher than in previous days. They crashed against me, soaking my pants in icy spray. Soon, my thighs were wet, and even the edge of my blanket had started to drag in the water. I was shaking so hard that after a while, I could barely control my own body.

I tried digging through the sand with my feet, but it wasn’t doing much. Over and over, I reminded myself that if I didn’t pull it together, we were done for. We’d die here, and that poor twenty-two-year-old kid wouldn’t get to live a normal life.

A sharp pain twisted in my chest.

Sariel didn’t deserve to die. I clenched my teeth and forced myself to keep going, kicking through the sand.

Then, a bigger wave surged up, nearly reaching my hips. I flinched violently at the freezing shock. No warm current from the stream reached this far. Wading through this in January, starving and already freezing, was too much.

When another wave crashed into me, this one almost hitting my back, I knew it was over. I had to get out of here.

One more wave like that, and I’d go down. And if I went down, I wasn’t getting back up.

Trembling uncontrollably, I stumbled toward the stream’s mouth. The slightly warmer water there did almost nothing for me. My teeth were chattering so violently that my whole skull ached.

I started climbing back up, following the streambed, and somehow made it to the cave, feeling like I was barely conscious.

Sariel was sitting by the fire, rubbing a few leftover twigs over the stone, I guessed to make another bark pancake, but the moment he saw me, he went pale.

"Fuck, Winter—holy hell! Look at you!"

I tried to answer, but my jaw was locked shut.

Sariel jumped up and, balancing on one leg, hopped over to me. He grabbed at the blankets, yanking them off, then started pulling off my soaked clothes, even my jacket was wet.

Once I was stripped down, he dragged me toward the hot spring, moving awkwardly on his one good leg. I could see him wince from the pain, but he didn’t stop.

I collapsed into the steaming water.

The heat was a shock. My whole body seized up, and a painful groan escaped my throat.

"I’m sorry," I choked out. "I couldn’t do it. It was so cold, Sariel—I just couldn’t."

"It’s okay, Winter. I get it. It snowed. It’s freezing out there. You don’t have to explain. Just warm up. Rest."

His arms wrapped around me, gentle and caring. I had the horrible feeling that they were the only thing keeping me from slipping away.

God.

Day five, and I was already falling apart?

People were supposed to be able to survive a month without food, as long as they had water. But then I remembered: the cold. The physical effort. That drained glycogen from the muscles at an alarming rate. I knew this. I was a regular at the gym.

On top of that, I had little body fat to burn as reserves.

And at the rate I was going, even just a few days without food, combined with this kind of exertion, could wreck me fast, with my body starting to eat itself, beginning with muscles, unavoidably weakening me.

Sighing, I rested my head against his shoulder. How nice…

I realized then that if I were alone, I probably wouldn’t even try.

If I were stranded here by myself, I wouldn’t bother leaving the cave at all. I’d just let the cold, the wind, and the dampness seep into my bones until there was nothing left.

"You know," I whispered, "the temperature right around freezing is the worst. There’s still moisture in the air, and it carries the cold. When it gets really cold, the air dries out. The cold doesn’t bite as much then."

Maybe I was just talking for the sake of talking, to remind myself that I was still here.

Sariel’s hands moved over my hair, soothing me. He left a trail of little kisses on my temple and forehead.

The feeling of being cared for, of mattering to someone, even on this godforsaken volcanic rock, was overwhelming. It was everything.

There was this one other living person who gave a damn whether I lived or died.

"I have to go back, Sariel. I have to find food."

"No way. I’ll go. The beach is just a few minutes away. I can make it on one leg."

"Hop there?" I let out a bitter laugh. "The stream’s edge is uneven and steep. You won’t be able to make it across. And the waves are strong today. They’re big. You’d never keep your balance on one foot. Even if you did—how would you dig? I dig with my feet. You can’t do that. Do you get that, Sariel?"

Silence.

Now that I’d spelled it out, he finally understood.

There were only two ways to dig for clams—kicking through the sand with your feet or using your hands. But using your hands meant bending down. And that meant exposing your clothes, arms, and stomachs to the freezing water. Hypothermia would hit fast. There was no way Sariel could do it.

At some point, I must have drifted. My head had slumped against his shoulder.

But the hunger didn’t let me sleep.

Mercilessly, it woke me up, and I forced my eyes open.

"I have to go. I have to—" I slurred.

"No chance, Winter. Come on. Lie down with me. Sleep. Rest."

I couldn’t fight him. Sariel practically dragged me out of the water.

We collapsed onto the mattress, and he pulled the blanket over us.

"It’s only midday," I mumbled. "We can’t waste this day! We have to find at least one meal."

Sariel pressed his lips to the top of my head.

"Winter. Right now, just sleep. Rest. Get some strength back. You don’t even realize how bad you look."

I gave a hollow laugh.

"Like a corpse? I bet I’m disgusting to look at."

His response was instant.

"That’s impossible."

His lips brushed my cheek, soft, warm.

"You’re the most beautiful ice elf I’ve ever met," he whispered.

And then, with a smile, he kissed my face again, one cheek, then the other.

"And the bravest. Like a true elven prince—fearless, never giving up."

His light touches on the skin of my face were so incredibly pleasant, I wanted him to keep going, stroking my head, skimming his fingertips over my cheeks and lips, just for that dazing shiver, to bask in his gentleness a bit longer, while pretending we weren’t dying.

At the same time, I wanted to laugh; a wild, empty laugh full of dark irony. A fucking ice elf was dying on an icy island, depleted of his energy by icy waves and icy wind…

But even so, the affection behind his words brought me a strange sense of relief.

Slowly, I closed my eyes.

And then I just… fell asleep.

***

When I woke up, it was already dark outside. I was still lying in Sariel’s arms, and the hunger hadn’t gone away.

Though now, it had changed into something else—a dull, constant pressure, like a low, droning hum in the background. It didn’t let up, couldn’t be silenced, just crept into every cell of my body. The only upside was that it wasn’t as sharp, not as terrifying anymore.

Was I starting to get used to dying?

"Sariel, I have to go out. I have to look for clams," I whispered.

He shifted slightly, then said quietly, "No, Winter. It’s too dark now. You won’t find anything. We’ll make it through the night… just one more night."

One more night?

How many more could I spend like this; lying here, trying to recover strength, while slowly bleeding it out at the same time? It felt like a cruel paradox: stay put and grow weaker, or go out and freeze to death trying.

An impossible choice, with no right answer.

I wanted so badly to tell him, to explain that I had to go, that if we didn’t find something soon, it wouldn’t matter how warm we were here.

It would mean another full 24 hours would pass without even a scrap of food. How many more could we survive before it was the end of us?

But the words wouldn’t come.

I was just too drained, too far gone to argue.

And then, suddenly, Sariel said something so out of place, so disconnected from reality, that for a moment, I thought I’d imagined it.

"Winter, I’m going to turn my back to you now, and you’re going to put your cock inside me."

"What?" I slurred.

Was I already delirious?

"You heard me. Please… just do it."

"I really appreciate that you still crave sex with me, but I’m afraid I don’t have the energy for it. And we should be conserving bodily fluids—"

"It’s not about that. You don’t have to move. Just… this is our last chance."

"For what?" I didn’t understand, or did I? "You've lost your mind."

"I don’t want to explain it to you, because I know you wouldn’t believe me. But please, just trust me."

I stared at him in the darkness—or at least, I tried to make out his shape in it. Did he seriously think that we were True Mates and that entering a Joining might actually do something? Heal his leg? Absurd.

But whatever he wanted, I was willing to give it to him. No matter how strange it seemed. What an unexpected thought, so new to me. I had never been in this mindset before, so open to the other person's every whim.

"Sariel, I don’t know if I can… if I even have the strength."

I felt him shift, turning his back to me. His firm, round butt pressed against my crotch, and despite my terrible weakness, my body reacted with a faint twitch.

"This is crazy, Sariel."

"Please. Trust me."

"But really—"

"Please, trust me!"

It was almost a plea, almost a cry.

I pressed the head of my semi-hard cock to his entrance and pushed inside.

It felt shockingly good, even with the hunger gnawing at me, even with the sense that we were dying. A wave of warmth washed over me, a bliss so unexpected that for a second, it didn’t seem real. But I didn’t move, I didn’t have the strength to.

"That’s enough," Sariel murmured. "Now, go to sleep."

I wanted to move. I wanted to chase that pleasure. But my eyes slid shut on their own, and moments later, I sank into a deep sleep that barely felt different from dying.

***

I woke up at dawn.

Another day. What was this now… the seventh? The eighth? I had no idea anymore. So many days. So many days of hunger.

Some people might think it wasn’t that long, that during wars, people had survived much longer. Maybe I was just too soft by modern civilization. Maybe I’d cut too much weight at the gym, leaving myself without fat reserves. Maybe I just didn’t have the mental fortitude to endure something like this.

Seven days.

For the first two, we’d at least had some nuts and snacks. Small portions, but they’d helped. Then I ate that one clam and a tiny pancake. And now…?

My mind spiraled into frantic calculations. Wait, wait… four full days without food? Completely? Besides that tiny piece of ground bark? And a clam in the middle? That was it?

I started obsessively counting, adding up numbers in my head, trying to figure out how many calories I could’ve possibly burned. My mind latched onto the thought and wouldn’t let go.

Numbers spun and churned in my skull.

One day: 3,000 calories, maybe. Moving, walking, freezing. Probably more.

5,000? That number rang a bell.

As a gym enthusiast, I’d read a lot about diets and physical exertion, and I remembered something about the body storing energy in the liver and muscles, mostly as glycogen. It added up to around that number: 5,000 calories, when measured that way.

So basically, walking around on the cold beach, searching… I’d depleted my reserves in just one, maybe two days?

What the fuck?! Was that even accurate? Or was I hallucinating the math?

How had I kept going for four more days? Had I already started burning through my own muscles? Had I entered ketosis? Most likely.

Those spiraling thoughts did nothing for my mental state. If anything, they just sent me into a deeper panic, convincing me that I was about to collapse from sheer weakness.

No. No giving up. I had to stop the crazy brooding.

Sariel was still asleep. I decided not to wake him. I forced myself up from the mattress, and that’s when I saw it.

My clothes, lying by the stream. Completely soaked.

No. No, no, no.

How the hell was I supposed to get to the beach now? How was I supposed to search for food?

I glanced at Sariel’s clothes. His shirt, his jacket—they were still dry.

I hesitated. If I took them and they got wet… would I even be able to dry them later?

Would I even be able to climb the volcano?

These seemingly small, trivial questions loomed over me like massive obstacles. I sat there, staring at everything—at my wet clothes, at his dry ones—running through scenarios in my head, trying to figure out what the best course of action was.

In the end, I grabbed all the blankets, even the one we used for drying off. They were only slightly damp. I wrapped myself in them and pulled on my pants. They were wet, but since they’d been near the stream, at least they were still warm. That could help. Possibly. For a minute?

I took the rest of my wet things and stepped outside the cave.

The sunlight hit me like a slap.

Dizziness swam through my head. Then the freezing air struck, biting into my skin. It was so damn cold. Four layers of blankets might have seemed like enough, but I couldn’t wrap them tightly around my wrists, or my ankles. The cold found every gap, slipping under my covers, working its way into my bones.

Shivering, I started climbing the volcano.

Drying my clothes had to be the priority now. I had so little strength left, each step took an enormous effort. I was panting like a racing dog after barely a hundred yards, my head spinning.

How the hell was I going to make it all the way up?

I regretted, for the first time, all those hours I’d spent at the gym, sculpting myself into this ripped physique. I would’ve had much bigger fat reserves if I hadn’t been jogging for forty-five minutes daily! Now, I was left with my chiseled muscles—so precious before—being wasted, eaten for energy.

Clenching my jaw, I kept moving.

The climb took longer than before. There was more snow on the slopes, and I had to be careful, but at least the wind wasn’t as brutal as yesterday. The sun peeked through the clouds, though it didn’t do much to warm me.

Finally, I reached the rocks where I’d dried the blankets before.

I stared at them for a long moment.

Was that… snow on their surface? Impossible.

I moved closer.

Was it fresh volcanic ash? There was quite a layer!

Had the volcano thrown it during the night? And it had fallen in such an amount all the way down here?

My eyes fixed on the caldera, warily. I hadn’t made it up there yet. Who knew what was hiding at the top? Maybe a roiling lake of lava, ready to spill over and bury us at any moment. After all, we were living in a cave at the base of a fucking volcano, feeding on its warmth. Using it rent-free. For now.

I spread my clothes out on the hot rocks, then crouched next to one that was warm but not scorching, soaking in its heat.

Watching the steam rise from my clothes and blankets, I felt a crushing wave of despair, like a weight pressing me into the ground. I knew the reality of my situation. On a good day, I found maybe two clams. My absolute record. No one could survive on that.

The thought was chilling. If I didn’t find another food source, we were doomed either way. It was just a matter of time, a few more days, and I wouldn’t even have the strength to leave the cave. We’d stay there forever.

That realization sent a fresh jolt of determination through me.

Once my clothes were dry, I put on my shirt and jacket. Only then did I take off my pants and lay them out to dry as well.

I curled up between two warm stones to shield my bare legs from the cold wind. Another fifteen minutes passed, and finally, my pants were dry too. Thank you, oh mighty volcano.

After dressing quickly, I started the descent. At last, I felt a little warmer. Even the smallest improvement filled me with renewed hope.

I hiked down carefully, mindful of the snow, but this time I angled more to the left, toward the meadow where the seats were. And then… well, I saw it.

The letter "H" had been buried again. Completely gone.

But I didn’t have the energy to fix it properly. I stomped it down a bit, half-heartedly, despite the relentless thought in my head that it could be our last hope, our lifeline, and I was neglecting it in my strange numbness, like I’d stopped caring. Like I’d lost all hope.

Slowly, I turned toward the small grove nearby. My hands shook as I snapped off a few branches.

By the time I returned to the cave, I was barely standing, dizziness overwhelming me. I tossed the sticks at the entrance, then peeked inside. Silence.

Was Sariel still asleep? The warm water looked tempting. No, not resting anymore. I’d rested too much already, gone too easy on myself.

Gritting my teeth, I forced my body to move and walked back to the beach.

Staring at the gray, icy surface of the ocean was like staring into the face of my greatest enemy.

"I hate you," I whispered.

I bent down, grabbed a few rocks, and hurled them angrily at the indifferent sea.

"Why can’t you give me some of your gifts?! You’re teeming with life, but here on the shore, you won’t even throw me a single fish!" I shouted.

A hollow laugh burst from my lips.

What was I doing? I’d heard that starving people sometimes started hallucinating.

Was that what was happening to me so quickly? Was I losing my mind?

Hunger was messing with my head, definitely.

And on top of everything, I couldn’t stop obsessing over how my condition had worsened so fast.

It was like a mad swirl in my head.

Why? Why? I’d only been fully starving for five days—and yet people had survived for weeks on just water. I just couldn’t understand it.

Was moving around in the cold really enough to burn through that many calories?

I was aware I had asked myself this question a hundred times already, but it was still mind-boggling. How shockingly fast the human body could exhaust its energy in the cold, under constant effort, cutting the time of normal functioning by weeks !

If someone had told me before, "In five days of starving, you'll be this weak," I would have been skeptical. But life had shown me just how little I really knew about my own body.

I pulled off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs, stepping into the stream’s mouth to search again. I was more careful this time, making sure not to get my pants wet. I knew I might not have the strength to climb back up the volcano to dry them again. And in the cave, there was no chance, too much moisture.

Then, suddenly, my foot hit something.

A tiny clam.

I shivered as I pried it open. Inside—meat.

Like a madman, I tore off a small piece and shoved it into my mouth.

But I froze.

No.

I couldn’t.

I spat it out and put it back into the shell, gripping it tightly in my fist.

Sariel…

I had to save that mint-haired kid.

He was dying in that cave.

I had to at least try to give him a chance.

I turned and stepped onto the beach.

Climbing back up the streambed, I reached the cave in minutes.

Sariel was sitting at the entrance, deathly pale, trying to rub two sticks together, the ones I had brought.

And when he saw me—

That light in his face again.

Such pure, boundless joy, just because I’d returned.

Shit.

Tears almost stung my eyes.

Poor kid.

What a cruel fate had met us.

A terrible thought crept into my mind: I was just a sterile beta. But he … he was a miracle of nature. A true hermaphrodite. All that, wasted.

And I didn’t know if I could save him.

No… I knew I couldn’t save him.

All I could do was prolong his suffering.

I dropped to my knees beside him and held out the clam.

"Eat, Sariel. Please. Eat."

He looked at the tiny, insignificant thing in my hand.

"And you, Winter?" His voice was quiet. "Did you eat?"

"Yes," I lied.

"No."

Sariel pressed his lips together. "I know you’re lying to me, Winter. I know you didn’t eat!"

"Eat it," I snapped. "That’s an order. I’m still your director. Remember that."

God, how absurd it sounded. And Sariel laughed softly.

"And I’m the son of your boss. So I’m ordering you to eat it."

"There’s no way in hell." I grabbed his hand, trying to shove the clam into his palm.

But he caught my wrist with his other hand.

I tried to wrestle with him, but to my shock, I realized—this twenty-two-year-old had more alpha in him than I did, despite all my hours at the gym.

His face didn’t even twitch as he pried my hand aside and, instead, pressed the clam into my palm. His grip was firm, as he curled my fingers around the tiny shell.

"Eat it, Winter. That’s an order."

"No. I won’t."

We locked eyes.

Neither of us was willing to back down.

"Fine," I said finally, conceding. "Then we’ll split it."

"Okay. I can agree to that."

Sariel scooped out the meat and sliced it in half on a rock.

It looked so small.

So pathetically small.

Like nothing at all.

Something caught his attention.

He picked up the piece I had bitten earlier, his eyes fixing on the desperate bite mark I’d left in the clam meat.

Our eyes met.

"Fuck! You’re starving, Winter. I know how badly. You should eat the whole thing. I see how much you’re struggling."

"No way," I said firmly. I took my half, shoved it into my mouth, and turned away, heading back to the beach.

"Winter, no! You should rest!" Sariel called after me.

But I didn’t listen.

Wobbling, I walked away, feeling like the ground was crumbling beneath my feet.

I knew that if I wasn’t careful, I’d slip from weakness and smash my head on the rocks.

So I forced myself to focus.

Step by step.

Step.

Step.

Step.

As the ocean came into view, with its merciless gray waves and its icy, foaming teeth biting into the shore, I shivered.

My frozen hell was just beginning.