In a small, calm, even voice, she’d merely said, “Lokkaru is dead.”
She hadn’t cried. She’d seemed…numb.In shock.
She’d been that way ever since, and beyond my own grief, I was worried. I felt woefully helpless in situations like these. I did not know how to care for a female. I did not know how to comfort her with words.
Ishouldknow these things. She would be myMorakkari, after all. Iwantedto comfort her.
“Leikavi,” I murmured to her, softly so no Dakkari around us would hear. “Tell me what you need.”
Thatgot her attention and she blinked, looking up at me in saddened surprise.
“WhatIneed?” she whispered.
I inclined my head.
Her brows furrowed and she said, “Oh, Davik.”
“Neffar?”
She glanced back at the crowd gathering around Lokkaru’s grave. “This isn’t about me. This is about you and your horde’s loss. Please don’t worry about me.”
I frowned. “You have as much of a right to grieve as the rest.”
“I feel like I don’t,” was what she whispered, looking up at me with shimmering eyes, shaking her head. Her arms were wrapped around her body and though the night was unnaturally warm for the season, she trembled like she was cold, a fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “I knew her for a week. You’ve known her for ten years.”
“Time has nothing to do with grief,” I told her and she looked up at me in saddened surprise.
Though Vienne had only known Lokkaru for that short period of time, it didn’t diminish the affection they’d felt for one another. I also worried that it had been Vienne that had discovered her body. Vienne had already seen so much death within her own family—her father, her grandmother. Both deaths had been gruesome and violent.
I cupped the back of her neck. Though I still could smell the earth clinging to me from Lokkaru’s grave, I scentedherunderneath it…soft and sweet and warm.
Dropping my forehead to hers, I decided to say nothing right then. We would discuss this once we were back at the encampment, once she was warm in my furs and had recovered a little more from the sadness that covered her like a veil.
When I pulled back, needing to return for the final burial, Vienne caught my hand. Her voice trembled as she said, “I—I think she knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That she was leaving soon.”
“Lokkaru was old,” I said gently, reaching out to brush her cheek. “Her time in this life was over. She has gone to the next.”
Vienne looked like she wanted to say more, her eyes darting between mine. Then her shoulders sagged slightly and she nodded, releasing my hand. I frowned, catching hers again when I realized her fingers were chilled to the bone.
“You are freezing, Vienne,” I murmured, my brows furrowing.
“I’m all right,” she assured me. Her eyes looked past me, towards the grave. “It looks like they are waiting for you.”
When I turned, I saw the eyes of my horde on us, though they averted their gazes quickly.
“Come,” I said, pulling her forward. “You will be at my side, as myMorakkarishould be.”
Where you belong, I added silently.
When I knew that shewouldbe my wife, that definitive moment last night—that determination that had risen within my chest, certain and absolute and unyielding—still left me reeling with its potency. But I didn’t question. For all my faults, I always made firm decisions and stood behind them.
As I pulled her forward, I didn’t notice her hesitation as she fell into step beside me.
Or maybe I simply ignored it.
