Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Some might call that his version of trying to care for you.”
I give her an exasperated face. “That went out the window when he threw me over his shoulder.”
“Well, considering the place he was carrying you away from, maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.”
Just the mention of the bunker makes me remember all we suffered there. And in the sanitorium before it. And all Zarah must have suffered before I joined her.
“I never thanked you,” I begin. “For all you did for me from the moment we met.”
“You thanked me each time I cared for you, dear,” she says with a soft smile. “And no thanks was ever necessary.”
“I know, but still. You helped me survive what so many other women haven’t. That means more to me than words can ever express. Plus, I wanted to be sure I said that before you leave.”
“They do look pretty ready to go, huh?”
She comes and stands beside me, and we both look out at the camp. Half the tents have been dismantled, and supplies were carried onto multiple ships for days now. The aliens are preparing to go, and apparently, with quite a few human women alongside them. They’ve been trickling in over the past few days, women who escaped from husbands, fathers, and brothers, seeking safety with both the Hallans and The Opposition. Some of them have taken up the Hallans’ offer to go back to their planet with them, with assurances that they will be cared for there. They, and I, know those same kinds of assurances can’t be given here when there’s certain war coming.
“I can’t wait to see her,” Zarah says. “And their planet. I’ve heard so much about it. It sounds unreal, but well, I guess when it’s a whole other planet, it is unreal.”
“My father keeps telling me about some technologies the Hallans have been discussing with him.” I turn towards her so she can see my pointed look. “Of course, he can’t actually put any of it to use until we defeat The New Order.”
“You’re sure you wanna be here for that war, Luna?”
“I’ve waited all my life for it.”
“Are you sure he’s going to let you stay and be a part of a war?”
She juts her chin to the outside of the tent, and I turn to look at what has her attention. Although, I’m sure I already know. I can feel when he’s nearby. And as he walks over to me with determined strides, I recall how I first put my awareness of him down to his dominating presence. But now, I know that’s not true at all. It’s something else that I cannot explain that makes a warmth grow inside of me when I feel his gaze on me. Something else that sends tingles up and down my spine when I hear his voice. Something else that has me swallowing as he gets closer to me now.
I’m brave in a lot of things, but I’m not brave enough to admit what it is that makes me feel all those things. Besides, this smirking bastard would get too much satisfaction from it.
“Good … morning, I believe humans say,” he states.
Zarah returns his greeting, but not me.
“Good morning would have been what you said when you came to my tent at the crack of dawn.”
“Why would dawn have a crack?” he asks with a puzzled expression. It disappears as he shakes his head. “You humans have such odd phrases.”
“How are you even able to understand us?” I question.
He gestures towards his right ear. “We have translators. You’ll receive one when you board the ship.”
I scoff. “And why would I be doing that?”
“For me to take you home.”
“I. Am. Home.”
“I think, no, I know, I’ve made it abundantly clear over the past few days that you’re coming back to Hallalah with me.”
Has he? Yes, but I ignored his every subtle hint, like when he brought a crate to my tent and told me to put anything I wished to bring from Earth in it. I just moved the crate to the side. When a woman Hallan came to my tent to deliver several, albeit beautiful, dresses that she informed me Halun had someone design for me, so I could get used to their clothing she’d told me, I’d put them in the crate instead and continued wearing the pants and shirt I was finally free to. When he’d interrupted my dinner last night and flat out told me to begin to have my parting words with people I cared for, I’d told him to leave before I put my fork through his eye. He’d smirked and left, and I convinced myself he was just getting a kick out of goading me. But … it seems not.
“I feel I’ve made it just as clear, every single time you’ve brought up me setting one foot on that ship, that I’m not going with you.”