Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
She blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented. She was still lying between Burn and Bright, her head pillowed on one massive shoulder and her legs tangled with both of theirs. Their bodies were warm and solid against hers. The sensation of being surrounded and protected was so comforting that for a moment she didn’t want to move…didn’t want to remember.
But then the sharp smell of something vaguely acidic and fishy snapped her back to the present.
A guard was at the door of the cell. This wasn’t a Skow—it was a huge insectile alien with glinting mandibles and a dull green carapace—and it was shoving three metal trays through the cell door. Each clattered to the floor with a jarring clang.
“FOOD,” the thing buzzed in a deep, robotic monotone. “EAT.”
Then it clanged the door shut and stalked away, leaving the rank odor of its oddly-jointed body behind. Or was that the smell of the food? Noelle wasn’t sure.
Burn sat up first, scowling.
“Smells like somebody skinned a Krathian skunk and dipped it in sewer water.”
“Gods, what is that?” Bright grimaced as he reached for a tray and passed it to Noelle with exaggerated caution. “We’re not expected to eat this, are we?”
She looked down and nearly gagged.
The tray had three compartments, each filled with something worse than the last.
The largest held a gelatinous grayish cube, trembling faintly like it was alive. It smelled vaguely of sour milk and ammonia, and little bubbles kept popping at its surface like a living pustule.
The second held something red and wriggling—long, worm-like noodles tangled around each other like tiny, angry snakes. Every so often, one twitched and hissed warningly.
The third compartment of the tray held something that was only marginally better. It looked like some kind of toasted seed or grain bread—small, nutty-looking things coated its surface. It didn’t smell half-bad—vaguely cinnamon-like, Noelle decided.
“This one might be edible,” she muttered, cautiously plucking one of the seeds from the bread and nibbling it. It crunched pleasantly between her teeth and left a warm taste on her tongue. “Kind of like spicy granola,” she said.
Bright gave her a tight smile as he picked up his own slice of seed bread.
“Let’s pretend the rest doesn’t exist.”
Burn picked up his tray and dumped the first two compartments straight into the waste slot with a snarl.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, eyeing the remaining bread. “Still smells like roasted bug ass.”
Noelle gave a faint, almost involuntary laugh and shook her head. She hadn’t eaten more than two bites and already felt queasy. Now that she was fully awake, the recent past was rushing back to her and the memory of the tentacle monster in the pool and the silver probe mapping her womb churned her stomach worse than anything on the tray.
Burn looked at her then—really looked at her—and his scowl softened slightly.
“You know,” he said gruffly, “You look…different. Not in a bad way. Just…you look younger now.”
Bright nodded slowly.
“You do. You definitely look younger.” He tilted his head, studying her. “It’s like your skin’s glowing. What did they do to you?”
Noelle’s laugh turned sharp and bitter. She looked down at her hands—smooth and unlined now, no sunspots, no calluses, nothing that marked the life she’d lived.
“You don’t know what I had to go through to look like this,” she said hoarsely.
The interest died in both warriors’ eyes, replaced by raw concern.
“What do you mean?” Bright asked, leaning toward her.
“Did they hurt you?” Burn growled, fists clenching, his whole body going rigid beside her.
Noelle looked down, staring at the half-eaten seed break in her fingers. The cinnamon taste turned to ash in her mouth.
“I…” She took a shaky breath. “I’ll tell you. Just… don’t interrupt, okay?”
Bright and Burn both nodded solemnly.
She stared ahead, not looking at them as the words spilled out.
“It started with this… pool. A bath, I guess. But it was filled with this thick, black, tar-like sludge. It smelled awful and felt worse. I didn’t want to get in but he—Lupin—pushed me. And then…then something dragged me under.” She sucked in a breath, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “It was a tentacle. It had suction cups—these horrible, wet little mouths—and it stuck to my breasts, my stomach… my thighs…everywhere.”
Her voice cracked then, and the first tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it.
“I tried to fight it,” she whispered. “But it was so strong—too strong. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. It dragged me under and I kept thinking…thinking I was going to drown.”
Burn made a low, feral noise beside her.
Bright reached across and gently cupped her cheek, brushing her tears away with his thumb. His hand was warm and soft and trembling slightly.
“I’m so sorry, Noelle,” he murmured, his voice thick. “Sorry we weren’t there to keep you safe—to stop it from happening.”
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “I went of my own free will. I thought if I could just…just endure it…it might help us get out of here.”