Page 25 of Citrine

"Great. Just what I need. Getting emotional now," I mutter to myself.

As if that has ever helped.

I shuffle farther from the edge, grabbing the broad leaf I gathered and moving it as far from the shore as I can manage with my injuries. Above me, the stars twinkle brightly in the clear night sky.

A surge of loneliness hits me. This is too much to handle by myself.

"Miss you,padre," I whisper, hoping somehow he can hear me, watching over me from wherever he might be. Whatever comes after death.

The weight of isolation presses down on me, right along with the grief. Not as fresh as it once was, but a wound that never heals.

Then I sense something—I'm not alone anymore. My pulse quickens as I see him emerging from the water, his presence a strange mix of terror and an unexpected sense of safety.

Despite our tense history, there's something about him that makes me feel protected, despite his scary as hell threats.

He approaches with purpose, and before I can react, his tentacles wrap around me, lifting me off the ground. Panic surges through me, and I start to struggle.

"Hijo de puta, put me down," I gasp, hitting him as hard as I can.

My fists pound against the sinewy tentacles, but it's like hitting a squishy wall.

"Stop making your noises or I'll drop you," he growls, his voice a low, menacing clicking song that freezes me in place.

His eyes, cold and unyielding, meet mine, and I know he means it.

With surprising gentleness, he sets me down on a higher, more stable rock. From here, I have a better view of the moonlit surroundings, a vantage point that makes me feel safer. Able to monitor any potential threats.

"Stay away from the water," he commands.

After a moment, he speaks again. "I am the only one allowed to hurt you."

The way he says it sends butterflies all over my body. It is an odd mix of fear and something else I can't quite identify—something that leaves me feeling even more aroused, and I hate it.

I don't know how to react to that sensation, and it confuses me. I'm going insane.

Clearly.

He turns and slips back into the water, leaving me on the rock. I notice one of his tentacles is injured, a nasty gash from the earlier battle. Concern tugs at me despite myself.

Then it pisses me off.

"You can't order me around," I yell after him, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"I just did," he retorts, his voice carrying clearly over the water.

I watch in disbelief as he tends to his wound. He blows on it, then takes mud from the ground, rubbing it on the gash. To my astonishment, the wound closes, healing before my eyes.

"What the hell?" I whisper, more to myself than to him.

This creature is full of surprises, each one more confounding than the last.

I settle back on the rock, my mind racing.

His words echo in my mind. Was it a threat or a twisted form of protection?

I lie back, staring up at the stars. For now, I'm safe, at least as safe as I can be in this alien world. The night's events replay in my mind, and sleep feels like a distant dream.

Tomorrow, I'll have to figure out my next move. For now, I'll rest and try to gather my strength.

---