Aehako shields his brow and gazes up the hill. There’s a cluster of people gathered together, I see, and between there and here, a few hunters are digging out a pit for a bonfire. “Here is fine. Kira?”
“This works for me,” she agrees, and gives me a curious look. “Do you want to bunk with us, Stace? I’m sure we can make room?—”
“No need,” Pashov says in a firm voice. “I will make a tent for Stay-see.”
I’m just as surprised as everyone else. “You will?” A tent of my own? It seems like such a luxury after days and nights of bunking with other people. A moment later, I feel strangely vulnerable. Is he planning on bunking with me? Is that why he’s been determined to talk to me today?
I don’t know if I’m hurt or amused. It’s like the man I love more than anything is a stranger…and yet not. It’s the most confusing thing I’ve ever experienced, and it’s hurting my heart so very much.
Pashov nods at Pacy, swinging him around to make him laugh. “I will make a tent for you next to Aehako and his mate. I will sleep with Harrec and the other hunters.” His expression darkens, and then he adds, “Not Harrec.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. I don’t know if I’m disappointed that he’s bailing out. It’s probably for the best that he does.
I must be having a weak moment, though, because the thought of sleeping curled up next to my mate makes me want to weep. I want that again. Someday.
But it’s clear that right now I am just a duty to him. Until we can be more—or his memory comes back—I need to keep him at arm’s length.
The evening is a blur.
The bonfire is lovely and warm. People are piled up around it, laughing and talking and passing around bowls of warm soup. I nurse Pacy and just hold him quietly, stroking his rounded,sweet baby cheek. When I’m feeling jittery or antsy, just looking down at him sleeping calms my mind. I’ve been staring at my baby a lot lately, but I don’t mind it. In his face, I see both Pashov and myself, and someone entirely new. I see a sweet little soul entirely dependent on me, and it both worries me and makes me that much more determined to keep him safe.
Someone pushes a bowl in my direction, and I sip the soup as I hold Pacy. There are several fussy babies by the fire tonight, but my Pacy is sleepy and content. Thank goodness. Poor Ariana looks ready to tear her hair out in frustration as Analay screams in her ear. I’m so exhausted it doesn’t even fray my nerves. I just stroke Pacy’s little face and make sure he’s not panicking. As long as he’s happy, I’m happy.
A warm blanket is tossed around my shoulders.
I look up, surprised out of my stupor to see Pashov. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am.
“You were shivering,” he says in a low voice, dropping in the snow to sit next to me. His gaze moves to Pacy, who is sleeping cradled against my breast. “Can I get you anything? Or Pacy? Tell me what you need and I shall get it for you.”
I want my mate, I want to say, but even I know that’s childish. He’s trying right now, too. So it’d be bitchy of me to slap him down. “I’m fine, really.” He has to be tired, too. I study his familiar face, suddenly worried. He was in his sickbed for so long that I thought I’d lose him. Even now he’s not quite the same as before—his cheekbones are a bit more prominent, his eyes a little hollower. And I can’t forget the missing horn… “Are you all right?”
He nods, gazing into the fire. “Today was a good journey. We did not make it as far as I expected, but I am not used to traveling with so much.” He glances back over at me. “It is going totake many days for us to make it to the new place. You must save your strength.”
What, does he think I’m deliberately trying to wear myself out? I’m just trying to freaking keep up. I bite back my sarcastic retort. We don’t have the comfortableness between us that we used to, and I ache with missing it. With the old Pashov, I would have snarked back at him. But this man’s a stranger, wearing my beloved mate’s face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I pull the fur tighter around my shoulders and deliberately stare into the fire.
He sits next to me for a moment longer, and then leaps to his feet. “I will ready your tent.”
I should say something back to him, but Pacy wakes up and smacks his sweet little mouth, looking up at me with glowing eyes, and I focus on him. I lift my tunic, snuggle him against my breast, and let him feed. It seems easier than talking to Pashov, when everything he says feels like it’s carving my heart out.
I know he’s trying. I know he is. But I also know that everything he says reminds me of the fact that I’ve lost my mate, and it hurts so much.
Sometimes I feel like my life ended when the cave-in happened.
I sigh at myself for being so dramatic. I’ve had it easy, really. I didn’t suffer through the ‘week of hell’ that the six original girls did when they landed here. I was in a tube. All I remember is waking up and seeing blue faces. And Pashov. My sweet, sweet Pashov. I’ve leaned on him ever since I got here. I’ve never had to do anything on my own, never had to be independent.
Maybe this is the universe telling me not to depend on one person too much, because everything can change in the blinkof an eye. Maybe this is karma telling me to be a stronger person. Maybe it’s fate shaking me out of my complacency.
But I don’t want to be shaken out of it. I liked the way things were, damn it. Loved it, actually. I don’t care that we don’t have toilets or real frying pans or legit vegetables. Or eggs. That I’d lost my job that I loved in a little bakery. I had my mate and then my baby. That was all I needed.
Or so I’d thought. Because as it turns out, I need more.
I focus on hugging Pacy close. This will hurt less in time, I tell myself. It’s just new right now, and raw. That’s why it’s so painful.
Time heals everything.
I must have fallenasleep by the fire, because I only have vague memories of the rest of the night. Of someone taking Pacy from my lap and helping me get to bed. Of wrapping me in blankets and tucking my baby’s basket next to me.
When I wake up the next morning, it’s to a strange clacking noise. I sit up, my head brushing against the roof of the small leather tent, and I realize that the clacking noise is my teeth.
