And after the warm season, after our time in the northlands, we would journey south to visit the budding settlement. I would see Tess again. And the rest of the villagers. Like Jacques. Farah and Hassan. Kaila, who’d given birth to a healthy son a couple weeks ago. Emmi, who had never quite been able to look me in the eyes after the Dead Mountain, just like many of my old villagers.
It didn’t matter, however. That part of my life was over. I only wanted to move on and not linger on old pains and wounds. Life was hard enough as it was without the prick of bitterness and anger.
But I knew that Tess would lead them well. And I had promised her that as Wrune and I traveled north, I would look for signs of Jacob and the other villagers that had fled from our group. I didn’t have hope that I would find them but I still looked every moment I could. Even Wrune had assigned a fewdarukkarsto search for them when they went out on patrols.
Maybe one day, all of them would be reunited once more.
I could only hope.
In my ear, Wrune whispered, “The healer told me that you have been getting sick these last few days. You never said anything about it.”
Licking my lips, I pulled back to look at him and asked, “Keeping an eye on me,sailon?”
He chuckled, low and deep. “Only because I worry for you. I wish you would ride with me at the front of the horde.”
Impossible male.
“Setovan. You told me to ride towards the middle,” I reminded him. Because, supposedly, it was one of the safer places to be. Not at risk of drifting away towards the back and not at risk should they come across anything dangerous in the front.
“I know,” he said. “We can rest here for another few days if you’d like.”
“No,” I whispered, nibbling on my lip. I knew we needed to push forward. I was also anxious to have Wrune all to myself again, nestled in ourvoliki. Peering up at him, I asked, “What else did the healer tell you?”
Wrune made a rough sound in his throat. The black strands in his eyes swirled with contentment and my lips parted in realization when I saw that heknew. Or at least, hesuspectedwhat I did.
“Nothing,” he purred, the maddening male. “Nothing at all.”
The glittering in his eyes told me otherwise.
My cheeks flushed. Swallowing, I told him gently, “It may be nothing, Wrune. I don’t want to get our hopes up.”
“I know,rei kassiri,” he murmured, dropping his head to give me a sweet kiss. One that made me melt into him and made my head spin. “Yet, I think Kakkari has heard us and has blessed us. I feel it.”
“Oh?” I asked, my heart fluttering with the sentiment. “You have been praying to Kakkari for a child?”
“Only every time I am deep between your thighs,rei Morakkari,” he rasped.
My gasp shot icy air into my lungs, almost making me cough.
Wrune laughed—loud and booming and wonderful—but soon, it died down. He sobered, though the expression that came over his face was soft and vulnerable and warm. And so full of his love that I was struck, frozen by it, as I often was when he looked at me like this.
“Lo kassiritei,” he rumbled.
And like always, I would never tire of hearing those words.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, feeling tears begin to prick my eyes.
“And whatever happens, we have been blessed already beyond imagining. For simply finding one another,” he told me.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, as a grin took over my face. “But should there be a child now, I know what name I would like to choose for our son or our daughter.”
His nostrils flared. He stepped closer. His warm hands came to cup my cheeks and he tilted my face up towards him.
“Lysi? Then tell me what you have chosen,rei Morakkari.”
“What’s the Dakkari word for new beginnings?” I asked, seeing his eyes flash. I added, “Without the other attached meaning of destruction.”
His own name meant new beginnings, but it also meant ruin. The name his father had given him.
