Her Cold-Blooded Protector

by Lea Linnett

  “You okay?” she asked, looking back to the fire.

  She saw Kormak nod out of the corner of her eye. “Better,” he mumbled, and Lena smiled.

  Later, once the meager light from outside had begun to fade, Lena handed Kormak’s now-dry jumpsuit back to him, turning away respectfully when he stood to put it back on.

  Fully dressed again, they laid down to sleep, Kormak taking a spot right next to the fire. He was more alert now, but still nowhere near back to normal, and Lena chastised herself for her thoughts earlier. Maybe it had been too long since she’d had a partner, if Kormak’s body was having this effect on her.

  She sighed. Making sure the levekk didn’t freeze in the night was more important right now, so she added a little more wood to the fire and laid down on the opposite side of it. Slowly, she let her eyes slip closed, and wished the floor wasn’t quite so hard and icy.

  14

  By morning, Kormak appeared to have returned to himself somewhat, but still he moved slowly. Lena could practically hear his joints creaking with the cold. She turned her gaze from him to the rain still pouring down outside, not relishing the idea of getting soaked again.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, gathering up her fire-making supplies and praying that they’d stay even a little bit dry in her backpack.

  Kormak sniffed. “Yeah. Just cold. We should get moving.”

  Lena frowned, but followed him out into the rain all the same. They were already behind from taking shelter, and the thought of delaying any longer made her itch. Her occasional phone calls with Ellie had been one of the few things keeping Lena sane in prison, and not being able to contact her now made her stomach roll. What if enforcers had visited her and Augusta? What if her escape meant her family were put under lockdown? Lena shuddered. What if Ellie worried about her and did something stupid?

  They couldn’t afford to waste time—not if it put her sister in danger.

  When she looked over at Kormak, she could see the same anxiety on his face. Whatever his ‘revenge’ entailed, it was as pressing a matter as Lena’s. She set her lips in a thin line. There would be no point trying to convince him to wait out the rain.

  So they set out, trudging slowly through the wet and soggy town.

  They made a beeline for the trees, using the wrecked buildings around them as cover the whole way, but the rain sliced through their clothes nonetheless, and they were half-soaked again by the time they reached the relative safety of the forest.

  It wasn’t a happy journey through the trees. Fat droplets landed on them from high above, rolling down their necks and into their jumpsuits even with their collars turned up. The ground was slippery with damp leaves, and roots seemed to rise up out of nowhere to trip their stiff, cold legs.

  Lena dared to think they might be making good time, but then the downpour overhead deepened, sending more water cascading down to wet them through.

  Lena could feel the winter cold seeping into every corner of her body, and when she looked over to Kormak, she saw his gait slowing, his fists restlessly flexing as they had the night before.

  She still wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with him, but the rain seemed to be worsening whatever effect the dip in the river had started. She wished she’d thought to bring more clothing with them, even a towel. Anything that could help them dry out.

  They stopped around midday to catch their breath. At least, she assumed it was midday. She found it difficult to tell beneath the tree cover, even after her father’s lessons.

  When they got up to move on, she noticed the stiffness in Kormak’s joints, the way he stretched out every limb surreptitiously, trying to avoid her attention.

  Lena bit her lip, and held her tongue.

  They didn’t see the sun for the rest of the day. The leaves were thick above them, and when the sky poked through, it was smothered with clouds—dark and angry and spilling an endless barrage of rain.

  Lena was miserable. Any warmth that had clung to her skin from sitting by the fire the night before was now gone, replaced by a clamminess that seemed to seep into her bones. Every inch of her skin felt damp or wet or worse. Her hair clumped against her neck, tracking more rain into the inside of her jumpsuit, which in turn did its best to stick to every crevice of her body. The cloth chafed and itched at her as she walked. For the first time on this journey, she was thankful not to be wearing socks, just the thought of them waterlogged and squishing beneath her feet making her want to sit down and cry.

  Kormak didn’t look any less wretched than she did, and his skin had turned dull. The bright, sandy yellow of his scales was now a sullen gray, which worried Lena more than the stiffness. She hoped it was simply a trick of the light.

  But as they walked on, she gradually lost that conviction. They both slowed down, soggy and depressed from the constant trickle of water from above, and by late afternoon, Lena found herself stopping to let the beleaguered levekk catch up to her.

  When this happened for a fourth time, she brought them to a stop, placing one cold hand on Kormak’s arm. She shuddered at the touch. Even through the jumpsuit, he was somehow even icier than her, skin radiating cold like an icebox in summer.

  She gripped a little tighter, trying to draw his attention. “Kormak. Kormak, are you okay?”

  The levekk blinked slowly, deliberately, his eyes moving sluggishly to meet hers. His lips were parted, drawing in slow breaths through his mouth.

  “Kormak?”

  Lena felt panic hit her like a block of ice to the chest, crystallizing when he didn’t respond. She clicked her fingers in front of his face, watching the normally cat-like pupils stay blown-out and flat, barely seeing. Her heart thumped madly, and for a moment it was all she could feel, the rest of her body turned frozen and unmoving with terror.

  She pinched her own arm, forcing herself to focus.

  “Okay,” she said out loud, anchoring herself as much as Kormak. “Okay, you and me? We’re gonna go find some shelter. Come on, big guy.”

  She lifted his arm, throwing it up and around her shoulders, suppressing a shiver at the intense cold of it. The levekk was heavy, and much bigger and taller than she was, but she managed to take some of his weight, and they shuffled up over the next small rise in the forest floor. A light breeze was threading between the trees now, and it cut at Lena’s wet skin like a knife, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Kormak’s movements were slow and stiff, and she wondered if he’d have even been able to get moving again without her help. He was like an engine on a cold morning, coughing and spluttering but not quite getting into gear.

  It took a while, but eventually Lena spotted a small outcropping of rock. She didn’t quite dare to call it a cave, what with how shallow it was, but it had the closest thing to three walls and a ceiling that she’d seen since that morning, and she hauled Kormak over to it, managing to set him up against the back wall with some effort.

  She felt his face, placing her hand over the skin of his brow plate like she would for her sister when she had a fever. But the levekk wasn’t hot at all. If anything, he was the opposite, and the strangeness of it set Lena’s teeth chattering. She placed her other hand on his cheek. Every part of him felt like ice to the touch.

  She almost recoiled when the levekk moved, nuzzling his face a little further into her hand. He didn’t say anything, but his eyelids fluttered unseeingly, and Lena’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide. He was so unguarded like this, so unlike the first time she’d seen him in the Iso Ward. He’d been something dangerous to her back then, and she’d only thought to use that intimidating aura as a cloak to hide herself in while they escaped. She’d never thought she’d be the one caring for him…

  The thought galvanized her, and she forced herself to pull away, ignoring the slight sound of disappointment that slipped from Kormak’s lips.

  She turned, slipping her backpack from her shoulders and searching around for her fire-making supplies in the depths of it. Blissfully, they’d been cov
ered in enough stuff to stay relatively dry, kindling and all, and her hands shook as they pulled them out one by one.

  With the rocky outcropping blocking the small gusts of wind from before, it only took a few minutes for Lena to start a fire. She stayed with it a while longer though, building it up so it would be strong enough to withstand the occasional drip from above. It radiated heat, but when she returned to Kormak’s side, she realized it wouldn’t be enough. His skin was still gray and cold to the touch, and his breaths were labored, so shallow she could barely see the rise and fall of his chest.

  Desperate, she pulled the backpack closer. She hunted around inside, closing her hands around the first thing she found. It was the box of cookies. She grabbed a handful, holding them before Kormak’s nose.

  “Kormak? Come on, you gotta eat. It’ll help you warm up.”

  The levekk stayed silent, his eyes closed. She panicked for a moment, thinking he might have passed out, but when she shook his arm again he grunted, eyelids fluttering.

  “Kormak?”

  No response. She shoved the cookies back into the bag with a shaky sigh. She felt their jumpsuits, both of which were soggy and cold, and she sniffed. What the hell could she do? She didn’t understand levekk physiology, but she could tell that something was seriously wrong with the alien beside her. Getting out of their wet clothes and sitting by the fire had helped the night before, but she wasn’t sure it would be enough this time. Kormak was practically frozen solid, barely responding to anything she did.

  Two thoughts rose unbidden to her in that moment. She thought of hiking with her father on a cold day in winter, when he’d warned her how important it was to make sure you had extra clothes when you were out in the cold. People could get so frozen that pieces of them would die. He’d known people who lost their fingers and noses from walking through the snow unprepared. You had to warm them up: give them extra clothes, put them by the fire, feed them. When that didn’t work, it was down to strength in numbers. Huddle together and your body heat could warm them up.

  Then she thought of her hand on Kormak’s face, the way he’d nuzzled closer.

  She glanced at him, at the grayish hue of his skin that she could no longer pretend was normal. She looked outside, at the forest darkening around them and the drop in temperature that she knew was probably coming.

  Despite the chill running through her bones, it was obvious that she was warmer than Kormak. It was also obvious that he wouldn’t feel any of that warmth through the soaked fabric of their jumpsuits. Blood rushed to her face as she realized what she had to do, but she stamped down on the embarrassment.

  If she didn’t do this, Kormak might not even be around to be embarrassed about it in the morning.

  So she stood up, quickly shucking off her jumpsuit and laying it down beside the fire. Down to only her underclothes, she turned to face Kormak, crouching beside him.

  “Kormak, I’m gonna help you outta these clothes, alright?” She paused, waiting for some kind of response, any response, but the levekk was silent, his chest barely rising. She felt a jolt of fear, her teeth grinding together. “Kormak?” she prodded again, now moving to unbutton his suit.

  He didn’t make a sound, so Lena pushed on, trying to keep her hands steady against the rising panic. What if she was too late? What if she’d already spent too much time dithering over whether this was the right choice and he was going to die because of it?

  She swallowed the thoughts down, focusing on her task. Getting the jumpsuit down around Kormak’s shoulders and pulling him away from the wall long enough to slip it down his back was easy. Shedding the rest was harder, and she had to shake him almost violently to wake him up enough that he was no longer a dead-weight, making it just possible to lift his hips from the ground and pull his jumpsuit all the way off. He didn’t protest the action; in fact he barely moved at all while she worked. His skin was as icy as before when she pressed a firm palm to his hand, and her heart seized with fear.

  Finally they were both suit-free and she was laying his out beside her own. Between the suits and the floor, the floor was drier, so she gently pushed Kormak down until he was lying on his back in the dirt and some damp leaves.

  She didn’t look at him for too long. She didn’t allow her mind to settle on his nakedness. She focused instead on getting him closer to the fire, battling with his exhaustion and almost-unconsciousness.

  When it came to the final step, though, she halted, her cheeks flaming. She was still wearing something, but that didn’t change the fact that Kormak was not. She thought of him waking up the next morning, disgusted with her or accusing her of taking advantage. She thought of instead waking up by herself on the opposite side of the fire and feeling for his pulse and not being able to find it.

  She shuddered, and laid down with the levekk between her and the fire, pressing as close as she could without lying directly on top of him. She almost squeaked in pain when their skin touched. It was like lying down on a block of dry, scratchy ice. His skin stung hers as she forced herself closer, placing her cheek on the curve of his shoulder. She pulled his arm around her, trying to maximize the amount of their skin-to-skin contact even as her own body protested.

  Once settled, she tried not to shiver. She stared over Kormak’s body at the fire, praying to anything and everything that this was helping him, that they’d both wake up the next morning with all their limbs still intact. Every now and then Kormak would shudder, sending a ripple through the both of them, and every time that happened, Lena would pray a little louder in her head, and press in a little closer.

  She laid like that for a long time, tracking the rise and fall of Kormak’s chest and watching the fire. While she didn’t get used to the cold, eventually her exhaustion took over, and she drifted off to sleep, her arms clasped tightly around Kormak’s shivering body.

  ---

  Kormak stirred in the night, his skin chilling as the fire burned down. He wanted to open his eyes and look around for something to cover himself with, but feared that if he opened his eyes, they’d freeze in their sockets.

  There was something warm at his side.

  He tried to curl into it, his stiff body not cooperating. He wrestled a hand up to inspect the warmth, and found soft skin beneath his fingers.

  Lena.

  Suddenly, he became fully aware of her, and she burned like a furnace, the warmth of her body melting through his hand as he caressed her. He tightened his body around her, absorbing as much of her body heat as he could. Even with his breath tickling her hair, she didn’t wake. She smelled like earth and something uniquely Lena, and he filled his lungs with it, hoping he could capture some of her heat inside him.

  It took a while for his sluggish brain to realize that she was naked. With their bodies fitted snugly together, he could feel every slide of her velvety skin against his scales. Her clothed breasts pressed up against his chest, and he felt his cock stir half-heartedly despite his condition.

  Ha, I knew you wanted her.

  Kormak froze. Malcolm’s voice was clearer than ever before, cutting through the muck of his thoughts as if they were butter.

  Do you like the way her skin gives beneath your claws? I think you do.

  The voice echoed oddly, as if its owner was standing just behind him, out of sight. He focused his eyes straight ahead, too afraid to turn and see what was or wasn’t there. He kneaded his claws into Lena’s hip, desperate for something to ground him.

  You better be careful, you could split her open doing that.

  His fingers jumped away from her, but he couldn’t disentangle himself. He still needed her warmth. The cold rolled over his back, as if Malcolm himself were blowing the gusts.

  Heck, maybe that’s what you want.

  He jerked at the thought, eyes snapping open. He went still, afraid he might wake her, but Lena didn’t stir. Exhaustion was evident in the deep circles beneath her eyes, even in the dark. He couldn’t allow a phantom to wake her. This Malcolm wasn’t
real.

  He steeled himself, silently willing the voice to just fuck off.

  There was no answer.

  Kormak closed his eyes, burying his face in Lena’s hair. Through his muddled thoughts, he focused on her delicate breaths, the warm pressure of her hand as it slipped sleepily over his side, and the gentle tickle of her hair against his face. Slowly, the cold began to recede, and Kormak felt himself slipping under again, his own breathing turning deep and regular.

  Malcolm didn’t speak again.

  15

  She woke to the feeling of arms around her, and the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath hers.

  She almost unbalanced herself when she realized she wasn’t lying on the ground anymore, but after a slight wobble her body regained equilibrium and she cracked her eyes open.

  They’d shifted in the night, Kormak having somehow repositioned Lena so she was directly on top of him now. Her chest was pressed against his, her legs loosely straddling his waist, and his arms had wrapped snugly around her torso, pulling her in close. He wasn’t the furnace she might have hoped he’d become—he wasn’t even particularly warm if she was honest—but his skin was no longer frigid and clammy like the night before. It felt dry and alive, close enough in temperature to her own skin for her to breathe a sleepy sigh of relief.

  He was breathing. He was alive.

  And she hadn’t turned into an ice cube herself in the process.

  She peeked up at the levekk’s face. He was still asleep, his lips parted ever so slightly.

  Laying her head back down, she settled into him. Kormak was broad, his chest wide enough for her to lay on without fear of rolling off either side of him. The gentle pitching of his chest wasn’t enough to make her feel unstable—it was more calming than anything.

  She thought, briefly, that she should be more embarrassed. She was barely clothed still, and Kormak had practically pulled her over him like a blanket. But she felt relaxed, more peaceful than she had in days. When she pressed her ear against Kormak’s ribs in just the right spot, she could hear his heartbeat—a steady metronome lulling her back to sleep.