Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
A shadow falls over me and I automatically glance up, only to cringe when I see it’s Skarr. Oh no. What does he want?
He holds something out to me.
I don’t know why, but I hold my hand out, palm up. My khui is humming wildly inside my chest at his nearness, and I know his is, too. The shivers of its song moving through my body send prickles of arousal through me, which are deeply annoying, and I try to ignore them. He plops the object into my hand and I stare at it.
It’s a scale. It’s about the size of my thumbnail, and hard like a poker chip. It’s deep green, like the scales on his brow and back are. “Um…why did you give me this?”
“So you can think of me, of course.” He grins encouragingly at me, and I hate that his grin is attractive. Sure, it’s all fangs and green mouth, but for some reason, I like his smile.
I toss the scale into the fire.
Someone snickers nearby.
This doesn’t deter Skarr. He crouches near the fire and warms his hands, and I go back to ignoring him, stabbing at the coals. They’re burning just fine, but I need something to do, so I pick up a frozen cake of dung and wedge it into the ash at the bottom so it’ll burn slowly.
“You are good with that,” he tells me.
I glance over, not certain if he’s speaking to me. “I’m sorry?”
He nods at the dung on the fire. “That. You are good with it.”
“It’s literally a piece of shit.”
“Yes, you are excellent with shit.”
Again, someone snickers nearby. I can hear Dawn mutter under her breath. “Dear god, this is painful to watch.”
“Your hands are big and strong for a puny female,” he continues. “You should be pleased.”
“At my man-hands?” I eye him. “Can you just stop? Please?”
“I am complimenting you. I am giving you game.” His smile is encouraging. “And I would love to pleasure you.”
Dawn snort-giggles, and again, I find myself wishing for a sinkhole. “Please be quiet, Skarr.”
“I am merely pointing out how capable you are,” he says. “What is wrong with that? You are my female. Is it so wrong to point out all the ways you excel?”
If he is, he sure has a funny way of doing it. I get to my feet, putting my stick down. That’s enough fire tending for me today. Skarr gets to his feet, too. “You want to play a game? With me?”
His eyes gleam. “I would love nothing more.”
“It’s called ‘keep away,’” I tell him. “You see how long you can stay away from me, and I with you. Whoever holds out the longest, wins.”
And I turn and walk away. I pray that it works, because if he keeps following me around and complimenting me on handling shit with my man-hands, I might have to murder someone.
Chapter
Thirteen
SKARR
I am not a fan of this “keep away” game. It goes on for far too long.
We “keep away” from each other for the rest of the night. We “keep away” in the morning as camp is broken and we set out for the beach village. I went there with I’rec upon the drakoni’s back, and I know how far it is—not very. But the large group is not moving very fast. There is much to carry and the females take their time, wading through the snows. The wind is cold and biting this day, and ice pellets hit my exposed skin, making it a miserable experience. I wait for someone else to point out that this weather is terrible, that we should not go anywhere.
They do not. They walk on toward the village, and I have no choice but to go with them. Bah.
As the day stretches past, I grow impatient with the “keep away” game. I do not like to lose at anything, but I also do not like keeping away from my female. Vivi walks at the back of the rambling, spread-out group, talking to no one. I am at the front, because of course I am. They can admire my form as I saunter past, and I hide from no one. But it occurs to me that Vivi again is wiser.
She is at the back because she watches everyone else to learn their weaknesses. Clever. Very clever.
The winds grow colder and my fingers stiffen up, along with my exposed tail. It grows more difficult to keep my form loose and easy, especially when the frigid air rips at my leathers. I do not wish to show the others that I am suffering, though, so I make a great show of looking for my mate and drop to the back with her.
“I have decided I cannot lose this game if I do not play,” I announce.
“What game?” She doesn’t look at me, her tone defeated.