Chapter Eighteen: The Screams of Kindred

Early the next morning, Shaya rolled over, and immediately a pitiful yelp sounded from beneath him. In an instant, Shaya leapt up as if he’d been slashed with a blade, jumping more than a foot into the air. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at Poor Worm.

Poor Worm lay there, nearly crushed to death by this rough, uncouth lout, and gently rubbed her chest to catch her breath.

“You! Who told you to sleep right behind me?” Shaya was vexed, so annoyed he wanted to pull his hair out.

Poor Worm’s cheeks flushed slightly. “It was cold last night, so…”

A strange feeling welled up in Shaya’s heart—no, don’t misunderstand, it was certainly not the flutter of romance or anything of the sort. Rather—disgust! He instantly recalled that earlier, mortifying “pillar incident.” He spat forcefully on the ground, rubbed his face hard, and finally managed to suppress the crawling sensation all over his body. He glared ferociously at Poor Worm. “From now on, sleep farther away from me. If you’re not careful, I might roll over and squash you to death in the night!”

Seeing Shaya’s aggrieved expression, Poor Worm felt a surge of indignation. How come it sounded as if he was the one being taken advantage of? If it were in the old days, men would have begged on their knees and not even dared to touch the hem of her skirt! Yet this country bumpkin acted as though he were the one being violated!

As she thought about it, a hint of embarrassment crept over Poor Worm. She stood up, straightened her clothe