As I got closer, I noticed a fresh scratch on the forearm of challenger number six. By the way, his hands are massive. She followed her gaze all the way to her fingers and saw that there were dried bloody marks on the knuckles. Well, there are no words! It was as if he had just returned from the battlefield and suddenly decided: "Why don't I find a companion? Yes, I will do that! Where are the surviving girls here?"
I had already assessed his dirty shoes and the size of his paws, which were bigger than my head, but he did not make a sound. It was only when I stared in disbelief into his eyes, the color of radioactive fog, that he made some strange sound. It was like a short rumble that made me shiver, as if I had just swallowed an ice cube.
–Ray,– he muttered. And I thought, “Damn it, is that his name or is he just growling at me?”His voice sounded so low and hoarse that it made my skin crawl, and I couldn't hide it under these rags that barely covered me.
And so the silence became even more intense. Lord Ray, if he was a lord at all and not some lost vagabond, didn't say another word. No clan name, no place of refuge, not even those strange sounds. But he was looking at me. Not like all those bumpkins who tried to undress me with their eyes. He looked straight into my eyes, and there was a question and a huge doubt in his gaze. And then I thought that maybe he didn't want a wife at all. Most likely, he was dragged here by force. Maybe for statistics? It's not for nothing that the old shaman constantly whines about the lack of candidates.
This is too much! I'm the daughter of the goddess of the Apocalypse, gifted, unique, damn it, beautiful. Does he reject me? It's a challenge!
I closed the distance between us and reached for the scar on his cheek. A terrible scar, as if it was left by some post-apocalyptic monster. Interestingly, the skin was split by something that sparkled like fragments of the old world. Ray didn't look away, even when I gently touched the scar. And suddenly he froze and stopped breathing.
Yes, and my fingers started tingling.
Oh my God! My eyes widened in realization, and I jerked away from the man.
–Mutant beasts, damn it! I blurted out when I saw his cape decorated with a bearskin.
So, let's dot all the... paws? In the post-apocalypse world, radiation turned out to be not only a disaster, but also a strange boon for some animals. If before being big and fluffy meant just being a target for camera traps, now it means sitting on a throne of gnawed bones, ruling the animal world and signing autographs for small rodents. These newly minted monarchs are not just dangerous and terrible - they are cunning and quick-witted, like graduates of a survival school for the advanced.
– Elisandra! The old shaman roared. He shouldn't have yelled my name, just like I shouldn't have talked, and Lord Antoine shouldn't have touched me. But it seems that we have all already sent traditions to hell. And it seems that only me and this wild lord like it. His lips twitched into something like a smile, and his eyes danced with mockery.
I cast a guilty glance at the shaman.
–I'm sorry about my French,– I whispered. He only snorted in response.
She couldn't help but roll her eyes, turned back to the lords and straightened up as if ready for battle.
My question has not been answered. But now I was sure Ray was definitely dealing with mutants. Probably still. And judging by his outfit, he lived somewhere in the north. And in the north... Where mountains meet the sky, mutants dream of making a piece of the surviving world their lunch. And for me to go there... In this vile cold, to these terrible creatures... No way! It looks like my thoughts were written on my face like an advertisement on a billboard. And not just any advertisement, but the one with flashing lights and an arrow pointing directly at my eyebrows, as if saying: "Look here! Exclusive offer: direct access to the chaos in her head!"
"You're also thinking,– Lord Antoine boomed next to him. The surprise in his voice made me almost choke with anger.
And what, in his opinion, is a girl who has been sitting in a sacred bunker for twenty years so stupid? And can only count the days on the walls?
I didn't ask this question out loud, but anyone with any sense would have understood from my look. Lord Antoine, apparently, was not one of them. He didn't even look at my face.
–Lord Ray was exiled to the most remote area of the Northern Borders, where even rats do not survive. Except for mutants, of course. These creatures feel great even in the bitterest frost. What about you, Elisandra?
They dared to shout my name again, as if it were the password to access the last surviving bunker! What an impertinence! I had to name him to whoever I chose as my survival companion in this crazy new world. Well, now it's definitely the end of the world!
"I'd prefer Lord Ray to describe his house himself," I said, hoping for a story about canned food and clean water.
– Elisandra... The high priest moaned soundlessly. I didn't even look at him, but shifted my questioning gaze to Lord number six, who seemed about to say something, but the arrogant Lord Antoine intervened:
– I don't think Ray is able to connect two words to interest you in anything. He's not used to talking at all, apparently. He has no one to talk to in these radioactive mountains of his.
Lord Ray clenched his jaw, and the wings of his nose fluttered like a mutant butterfly. It was obvious that the man was holding back his rage with the last of his strength. But he kept it. Catching my eye again, he confidently stated:
"Listen to Lord Antoine, my beauty. He's in high esteem and lives in more suitable places for someone like you. Mountains are not a place for girls, especially when there are radioactive bears there.
Ahhh! That's it, right? No, that's exactly it. It's a challenge! And although the mountain lord looked away, looking somewhere over my head, I could not hide the disappointment that flashed in his eyes. And such a familiar longing for a lost world...
I forced a smile, exhaled, straightened my fingers as soon as I realized that they were clenched into fists, locked them together and turned to the supreme shaman-radioactive.
"I'm ready to make a choice," I said quietly, modestly lowering my gaze, as I was taught.
YOU ARE READING
The bride from the ashes (Catnap X Reader)
RomanceIn ancient scrolls, forgotten by time, it was written " " Once in twenty years, on the night when the moon covers the sky with its silver veil, the daughters of the goddess of the Apocalypse are born. They are the bearers of gifts, abilities that he...