Page 67 of Dark Fey Captive

“I hate when they watch me,” she said softly enough for it not to hear her.

“It’s not watching you. It’s listening,” I said. “But if you see any watching you with clear eyes, not cloudy ones, tell me right away. I think all of the smarter ones died, but I found one in the hotel when I first came here that I wasn’t sure about.”

“Smart infected?” She shivered in my arms. “You mean the ones who knew how to hide and climb and set traps?”

“Yes,” I said, turning toward the house and ignoring the infected. “You’re too cold. Let me take you back.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ARENA

Even the warmth of the crackling fire in front of me couldn’t dispel the cold fear I felt.

I found one in the hotel…

Another shiver ripped through me. After Nav placed me on the mattress and added wood, he disappeared. I could hear him in the kitchen, so I knew I wasn’t alone, but I didn’t know what he was doing. My thoughts wouldn’t stop racing long enough to care.

We’d heard the news on the island radio weeks ago about the mass infected deaths. That thousands had dropped right where they’d stood. No one had done anything to them. No head shots or dismemberment. Just drop and dead.

But not all of the infected. The slower ones…the newly turned had been unaffected.

Did some of the smarter infected survive, or were the ones who were left evolving again like the older infected? We’d lost so many islanders due to their traps and speed. What would we do if they started evolving again?

I thought of the supplies in the basement and my island family. The island was safe. If we stockpiled, maybe we would be okay. But what happened when we ran out of supplies?

The communities Nav mentioned had fresh fruit. Fresh vegetables. And fey.

What if that was our only choice in the future?

Submit to a fey and trade sex for food and safety.

But for how long? No man stayed interested or faithful forever.

What if we got there and⁠—

Nav squatted down in front of me, his concerned gaze sweeping over my face.

“You’re still shivering. Come.” He gently drew me to my feet and led me to the bathroom.

The bathtub was half full of steaming water.

Surprised, I glanced at him.

“You said you wanted to bathe after the fence was done,” he said.

Oh, right.

I nodded and started undressing. He didn’t. He helped me into the water and knelt beside the tub as I sat. The heat helped melt away some of the fear. The washcloth he ran over my skin as I rested my cheek on my knees helped soothe away the rest of it.

It felt so good to be taken care of. Why did I care how long it would last? I didn’t even know how long I’d live.

“Better?” he asked when I stopped shaking.

I nodded.

“Can I wash your front?”

Willing to trade a little groping for some comfort, I leaned back against the tub. Nav didn’t grope, though. He ran the cloth over every inch of my skin, slowly and thoroughly, but without extra attention anywhere. Then he helped me wash my hair.