“Because…?”
“Because I spoke with my chief and convinced him he should let us stay here in the cave for several days. We will catch up with them at the new home-place.”
I stare at him, horrified. “What? Why would you want us left behind?”
“Because you struggle in the cold, and it causes me great pain to see it.” He pulls the wrap off his shoulders and dumps it over me, tucking it close like I’m a toddler. “Because I cannot watch my mate suffer in the ice and snow for one more day.”
I’m warming, and it’s not just because of the fire. It feels like something is thawing in my insides as well. Is this the first time he’s referred to me as his mate since the accident? “Everyone is struggling,” I murmur. “It is just something we must endure?—”
“No, it is not,” he says in a flat voice. “I do not care if the other humans struggle. I care if you struggle.”
I blink, because I don’t know what to say to that. I want to protest that, of course, he cares if the others struggle, because we’re a tribe and a family, but…he has no memory of them, either. Why would he care? “You really, really want to be left alone in a cave with me for the next few days?”
“Of course.”
“Why?” I spread my hands, perplexed. “Pashov, you and I haven’t been on easy ground since the accident. I haven’t been nice to you, and I know I haven’t. So why trap yourself in a cave with no one but me for company?”
“You have not been nice because you have been hurting,” Pashov says. He reaches out and gently traces a finger along my jaw, as if discovering it for the first time. Goosebumps prickle my skin in response to that small, tender touch. He watches me, fascinated. “I have foolishly pushed ahead thinking that mylack of memories did not matter. That you would accept me as your mate again and everything would be fine. But I am realizing that perhaps I can do more…and that traveling is not the time or place to do it.” He leans back on his haunches and smiles at me. “So I asked Vektal if I could steal you away.”
“But why?” The timing seems utterly terrible.
“I want us to get to know each other once more,” Pashov says. “You have memories of me. Mine of you are gone. If I cannot have them back, I would like to make new ones. With you.”
I melt a little more at that. “You would?”
He nods, pressing a hand to his chest. “I feel my khui resonate to you. Every morning when I awaken, it sings a song to yours. Every time you come close, it calls for you. It knows what I have forgotten. And it is time to stop ignoring what has happened. I am not whole. I am missing a vital part of who I am…because I am missing you, Stay-see. I want to get that back.” His expression is solemn. “Will you help me?”
The knot in my throat feels huge. He’s engineered all of this? To be left behind in the middle of a difficult journey all because we’re fighting and unable to get along? It seems like a terrible idea, and yet, does it matter if we get to the new home a week after the others? What do a few days matter in the scheme of things? I hesitate. I don’t want to get my hopes up. “Will it be safe to travel if we stay here and rest for a few days?”
He nods at me. “Rokan says the weather will hold. After this storm, there will be no more until the next moon.”
Well, I can’t say I’m displeased about that. “So what do we do?”
Pashov’s gaze is intense as he watches me. “We make new memories, Stay-see.”
I feel weirdlyshy as Pashov putters around the cave, setting it up for us to inhabit. As caves go, it’s nice and spacious, with two chambers. The larger one is the main part of the cave, and the smaller chamber is used for storage, though there’s not much currently to store. Most of the equipment that is normally kept for travelers is down to a bare minimum, the rest having been scavenged since the big earthquake. There are a few blankets, at least, and a basket full of dried bones of varying sizes, since the sa-khui waste nothing. I let Pacy dig through these as I watch over the fire and surreptitiously watch my mate.
Despite the grueling trip and the bad weather, Pashov seems to be in a light mood. His steps are full of enthusiasm, and he hums to himself as he unpacks roll after roll of leathers and furs from our sled. Some of the gear is his mother’s and carefully stored in the back cave. Once all the gear is in, the sled is dismantled and also stored so the wet and cold don’t warp it. Then Pashov sweeps the snow and debris out of the cave with a whisk before setting the door screen at the front of the cave. He’s not happy with the way it flutters in the heavy wind and then gets to work reinforcing it with another layer of leather.
Every now and then, he glances over at me and smiles. I can’t decide if he’s pleased with his little plan or is feeling bashful himself. We’re here alone now, without the rest of the tribe to act as buffers. And while I know him well, he doesn’t know me. This is probably going to be a little awkward for both of us.
Then again, can it be? We’ve had sex. Even if he doesn’t remember the two years we’ve spent together, the other night has to be burned into his mind. You can’t get much more intimate than mating with someone. The sa-khui are pretty loosewith their sexuality, but I know Pashov was a virgin when we resonated.
I’d forgotten about that.
Looking back, I wince at how I reacted to our having sex. It must have been mind-blowing for him…and then I cried. It had to have hurt his feelings, and I feel guilty. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own wounded feelings that I haven’t given much thought to him. What kind of mate am I?
One who needs to change, that’s for sure.
Pacy makes a high-pitched baby shriek, his little tail flicking back and forth on the furs he’s seated on. Pashov looks back, a grin lighting his face. “He is full of energy.”
“He is,” I agree, a smile coming to my face. Even if he doesn’t remember Pacy, it’s clear that he has affection for him. “That’s all sa-khui. His human half would have run out of energy hours ago.” Even now I’m feeling drained and sleepy.
“Are you tired? Do you wish to rest?” Pashov puts aside the awl and leather thong he’s double-stitching the privacy screen with. “I can watch the kit if you need to sleep.”
“I’m all right,” I tell him. I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyhow. I’d just lie in the furs and stew about how things got so wrong between us.
He watches me for a moment longer, then turns back to the screen and begins to stitch again. I watch his muscles move as he works, and my heart aches with fierce longing. Even if he doesn’t remember our relationship, he is a good man.
