“I promise.” I lift my lips to his, wanting to quell the fire, the fear I see there. “I’ll remember. No matter what happens.”
For a second, I almost see a single tear glitter in his eyes, but he buries his face in my neck before I’m sure. He whispers something too low for me to hear.
It’s not until later, after we’ve made love for a second time, this time softer, slower, and I’m drifting off to sleep that I realize what he said, even though it makes no sense.
It was something like…
“No. You won’t remember.”
Chapter seven
The Hunt
Nora
Easter morning drags out with unbearable slowness.
Sorren and I wake at dawn. We creep to the egg and stand before it, ready for it to crack open and admit us.
It does…nothing.
Just sits there like a lump.
Sorren puts his hand on its surface and frowns, deep grooves forming between his brows. He tilts his head like he’s listening intently, then drops his hand and steps back.
“It’s awake, but…waiting.”
“How do you know?” I ask, glancing between him and the egg, which, to me, looks quite frankly like a giant stone egg.
He shrugs and runs his hands through his hair. “It’s hard to explain. As if we speak the same language but different dialects. Does that make sense?”
“Not really.” I take his hand in mine. I’m still bubbling from last night, from being with him. Becoming one with him. “But I believe you.”
Whatever happens today, I’m not letting him face it alone.
We stay hidden behind a cluster of cherry trees at the edge of the garden, close enough to keep the egg in sight while the park slowly fills with people.
Parents. Teenagers. Children in ruffled dresses racing between bushes and trees. A stroller bumps over gravel. Someone yells about a missing shoe. A toddler wails while a dad hoists the child onto his shoulders for a picture in front of the giant egg.
“Look how much taller you are this year, Jimmy,” a mother exclaims. “Last year you couldn’t even reach a quarter of the way up.”
Jimmy grins, then pinches his sister the second their mom turns away. The little girl pinches him back and sticks out her tongue.
“Aren’t they adorable?” I ask, my voice dreamy.
In my mind I’m already picturing it. Our children. How they would look. With his hair and my eyes. The logical part of me realizes it’s way too early to think about these things, but words likeclaimed,mate, andmind-meldinghave clearly fast-tracked my hormones.
The children are full-on squabbling now, kicking and hitting while their parents drag them apart.
Sorren watches, his expression carefully neutral.
“They are attempting to injure one another,” he says after a moment.
“Yes,” I sigh, leaning against him. “But in a really cute way.”
He looks down at me like he’s reconsidering everything he knows about humans.
“Why aren’t the hunters here yet?” I ask a few minutes later, after I text my mom to make sure she’s okay.
