Page 30 of Nyx
My legs buckle halfway as I try to sit, and I thud onto my ass. Deciding to give up the fight for good, I let the rest of my body thunk to the ground. I’m flat on my back, uncaring that I’m sprawled out on a blanket of dust.
A shadow falls over me, and I wrench one eye open to find Ronan standing with a hand on his hip. His eyebrow is expertly arched as he stares down at me with his glass tipped. It threatens to pour over me, but instead of fighting it, I grunt and nod in agreement. The dirt grindsagainst my scalp, and I grimace, waving an exhausted hand at myself.
“Do it. Water me. I’ll just return to the earth at this point.”
“You are like compost,” he says, and even if I wasn’t looking at him, I couldhearthe grin on his face. He hesitates when I don’t fight back, the snarkiness on his expression flickering. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
A quiet laugh huffs out of my nose. Ronan enjoys acting tough, but most of his rough exterior is just a performance. Don’t get me wrong; his patience is award-winningly low, and his tiny reservoir is reserved for Cameron, but deep down, he cares about the rest of us. Even me, though he’ll never admit it.
“Exhausted, but I’ll survive.” My voice comes out as if someone has stepped on my gut and forced the oxygen out of my lungs. I cough, just so my pitiful levels can reach their peak.
Ronan drops onto the dirt a few feet away, and his descent is much more graceful than mine. My heart rate finally slows as he takes a long drink, and after we’re both calmer, he speaks. “You’re getting better out there.”
Another wheezing laugh leaves me, but I don’t have the willpower to peel myself off the ground yet. “Look at me, man. One foot in the fucking grave, where you might’ve shed a single drop of sweat.”
“That wasn’t sweat. It was a tear for your terrible performance.”
“Youjustsaid I was getting better!”
He shrugs, his lips pulling back in a grin. “I lied.”
“Fuck,” I groan, thunking my head against the ground.
“In all seriousness, your stamina has improved since we started, and your agility as well. You pick up techniques much faster than I expected.”
“I can only beat you by cheating,” I mutter, but for once, he just clicks his tongue disapprovingly.
“There is no cheating when it comes down to you versus them, only the victor. I’m beating you because I am an expert swordsman with a century of training behind me.”
“That’s… surprisingly nice.”
He ignores me, then kicks back in with the snarky dialogue I expect from him. “You are basically a toddler, and the size of one, too. Is it any surprise fighting is hard for you with those stubby arms?” I glare as I prop up on my elbows, sending particles of dust into the air. It makes me look like I’m smoldering… which, granted, is pretty accurate. His love of tormenting me causes his smile to spread, but it’s a genuine one instead of the forced smirk he uses so often in my presence. His entire face lights up with it.
The stupid monster has to be stunningly gorgeous, on top of everything else.
“Are you done?” I ask, and he heaves a long-suffering sigh.
“I suppose.”
Painstakingly slowly, I work myself off the ground, hyper-aware of the dirt that covers my clothes and skin. My muscles ache, and my attempt not to make a pitiful sound as I sit is a complete failure. Ronan grins at my misery, butdoesn’t comment. Once I’m settled, I reach for my glass and find it’s too far away, so I give up. Ronan takes pity on me and grabs it.
“You said we needed to talk?” He passes me the glass after refilling it, and I take it with a nod of thanks.
There’s no point in skirting the topic, so I just give it to him directly. “We need to make a trip to my old camp.”
“Forwhat?” Ronan’s tone tells me I’ve caught him off guard with the comment, which… fair.
“The garden is producing well, and we’ve been able to store a lot of food, but I’m worried about how fast we’ll go through it during the colder months. There are, uh…” I shoot an apologetic glance to Elas, who’s been sitting silently as we bicker. “There are several, um, large appetites here, and I don’t think the stores will last.”
“You have plants that will grow during the winter, yes?”
“I do, but we can’t survive on cabbage and lettuce.”
“And eggs,” Elas adds, but I shake my head.
“Production will slow down when it’s colder outside, at least according to what I remember reading. We don’t know if they’ll even stay here through winter. They might migrate.”
“So we hunt,” Ronan says with a shrug.
