Page 33 of Meteor Storm

I looked down at myself, uncertain exactly what blubber was, and shrugged. “Those bound to our moon are inactive in military affairs. They are a bit softer in appearance.”

“Somehow, I don’t think my definition of soft is the same as yours.”

“What do your people look like? Are they all like you?”

“No,” she said, almost with laughter. “No, humans all look different. Some have dark skin. Some have pale skin. Some have dark hair, red hair, gold hair, white hair. Some are bigger. Um… rounder. Some are smaller. Some have more muscle. Some are frail. And a lot of people change their hair to unnatural colors. Blue. Pink. Green. Some change their eyes, too.”

“Have you changed your eyes?”

“I thought about it. Brown eyes are so common. I always wanted something like green or gray eyes. I just never wanted the surgery that came with it.”

I stared at her as she spoke, studying the precise, deep umber shade of her eyes.

“Your eyes are not common. Not here. All monrian eyes are gold or green. They weren’t always, but engineering an entire population has made them that way. Your eyes are… strange.”

“Thanks,” she half smiled.

I stepped closer to her, my gaze shifting to the long, silky, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. Reaching out, I took a strand and ran it between my fingers. It was so fine and fragile, moving with the slightest breeze from the air vents.

“Humans will evolve over time,” I sighed. “Right now, you are soft. Delicate. Space will change you.”

“Strange. I never thought of myself as delicate, but here, that’s what it feels like. Evolution doesn’t happen overnight, though,” she said softly, her eyes watching me. “If I’m soft and delicate now, that’s how I’ll be till I die, unfortunately.”

My gaze locked on to hers and for a moment, we shared in the almost peaceful silence.

“I will protect you,” I finally said.

She blinked like the words had startled her. “Why?”

“Because… that is what Pek-Tol wants me to do.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to protect her, but I was certain I would have done so even if Pek-Tol hadn’t manipulated the situation in his favor. I had wanted to protect her from the first moment I saw her. Maybe because I needed purpose in that place. Maybe because I could not stand seeing another sad thing get torn to bits in that arena. Or maybe it was something else.

“Right,” Penny said. She lifted the furs higher on her shoulders as if trying to shield her neck. “So? How are we doing this? The sleeping thing.”

“I can go a day without sleep. You take the bed.”

“While I appreciate the chivalry, I kind of need your body heat.”

I looked her up and down as if to analyze her physiology, but I already knew how sensitive she was to the temperature. But as I looked her over, I saw the slowly healing wound on her ankle. I vaguely remembered her getting the injury. At the time, I was barely conscious. The purple bruising around the thick scab was upsetting, though. I gestured with my chin.

“Sit first.”

She looked confused, but did as she was told, perching herself on the edge of the bed. I crouched in front of her, gently cupping the back of her ankle in one hand and lifting it onto my thigh. She hissed. Clearly it was still sore.

“You don’t need to—”

“They will give you nothing to relieve the swelling,” I said. “The cold may be good for it.”

The cut was deep, but the flesh surrounding it looked healthy. It could have used proper treatment, but if she was walking, Pek-Tol was likely to ignore it.

Tenderly, I prodded the bruised flesh with my fingers, searching for unseen damage beneath the skin. Penny pressed her lips together but didn’t make a sound. I could tell she was used to pain.

“There is no break,” I said.

“I know. I got lucky. Bone bruising, most likely. And an ugly cut.”

“Lucky it was not a snare. The cold will help.”