Or his kisses, for that matter. I’d never once heard of him kissing anyone else except me. Why can’t I stop thinking about that night? He’s certainly never going to bring it up.
“Here’s what’s going to happen next,” he says. “I’m going to feed you, and you’re going to eat what you can. And then we’re going to talk. I’ve been sitting here, imagining the worst, and I can’t take not knowing anymore.”
He scoots closer, bringing the stone bowl with him.
Manuel coaxes me into a sitting position. He gently lifts a bowl filled with water to my dry, cracked lips. I gulp it loudly, wanting every last drop, but Manuel firmly keeps me from drinking all of it. I reach for the container, but he shakes his head. “Despacio.”
“But I’m so thirsty.”
“I know,” he says. “You’ll get more.Slowly.”
I cross my arms and eye the bowl.
“Let’s try some food.” Using a wooden spoon—which he probably whittled himself—he feeds me a few bites of the mashed avocado.
My stomach roars to life.
“Not that I’m not thankful,” I say in between chewing. “But do you have anything heartier than avocado?”
He smiles. My heart flutters once, twice, and I tell it to behave. It’s just a smile. Manuel turns to a small fire pit, where a rabbit is propped, ready to be eaten. He cuts small chunks and drops them into the bowl. Silently, he hands everything over to me. He probably realizes that if I’m asking for a heavier meal, then I can feed myself.
He waits patiently, watching me eat, and I’m so hungry, I don’t care if I’ve gotten any of the food on my face or in my hair, which has long since escaped its braid and hangs in a frizzy mess down my shoulders. I must look a sight.
When I’m finished, he takes the bowl and spoon from my hands, and lets me have more water. “Do you want to lie down again?”
I shake my head. Outside, it’s raining still, the clouds heavy and dark. Thunder sounds off in the distance. “Any monsters come calling?”
“No visitors, unless you count the vultures.”
“Vultures?”
He nods. “An enormous flock of them flew past, heading to where I found you. Turkey, yellow-heads, and even a few king vultures. They were excited, fighting among themselves, nearly tearing one another apart to get to whatever was dead on the ground. From the size of the flock, I’d say there was quite a bit of food for them to find.”
“A dead beast, do you think?”
He shakes his head. “Too many vultures for just one animal. I’d say it was a small group of people traveling through.”
I swallow bile. My entourage. They didn’t make it out alive. I shut my eyes. Rumi the healer. My friend and I are done, but my heart splinters for her.
“Catalina,” he says softly. “What is it?”
Goose bumps crawl over my skin. He calls me by name only when he’s thinking of me as a friend and not as his queen. The moments are rare: meals shared with his mother and sister in a closed room, the few times he’d taken me riding around the perimeter of our land, somehow sensing when I needed to be free of the stone walls trapping us inside. Again, times alone were rare. But he’s been calling me by my name since he found me.
“I came in with a group of guards—Llacsans. They were my escorts. One of them was nice to me. I think he’s dead. He must be. What could have attacked them? Another jaguar?”
“There are many monsters in this jungle.”
“I don’t know how anyone can survive this place,” I say, shuddering, remembering the size of the jaguar, its gleaming claws.
“You’re still alive.”
“With your help,” I say. “Luna’s ray of moonlight, too. She led me to that hole, I think.”
“One of my traps,” he says. “It’s how I found you.”
“How long have you been in the forest?”
He waves his hand impatiently. “Later. I need to know—”
