I nod, watching them in the mirror. “Why couldn’t you save them? Their village.”
He looks out the window. His hands unclasp in his lap and he presses one palm flat against his thigh. “I tried more than you will know. Not every supernatural wants to come to Wintermoon. Some are bound by their culture, by beliefs older than this territory, and I will not force them. But I cannot protect those who refuse protection, and when the consequences arrive, I carry that weight.” He’s quiet for a moment, watching the trees pass. “Every village I could not save stays with me.”
I keep my speed slow. Ten minutes of driving and the market comes into view, alive with activity, stalls open, people moving between them.
“Finally,” I breathe. “Something other than the cabin.”
I pull into a parking spot and cut the engine. The driver’s side door opens and Amir is already standing there. Before I can react, Kojo appears and lifts me out of the vehicle, setting me on my feet.
Zaki approaches, barely winded. “I still do not see a problem with the wagon.”
Amir gestures toward the market. “Feel free to explore. You will find me at the spa.” He points to a low structure at theedge of the marketplace. “It was designed by the Lunas of Wintermoon for the women of the community.”
“Women only?”
“Yes, with the exception of myself.” He smiles, unbothered.
Zaki steps forward. “I am searching for the seamstress Jackie.”
“Follow me,” Amir says with a smile, then pauses and looks at me, then at Kojo, then back at me. “You have not completed the mate bond.”
I feel the heat rush to my face. “How does everyone keep knowing that?”
“You should not make him wait too long. Bouda males who are denied their mate become difficult.” He glances at Kojo, who has gone rigid beside me, his ridge lifting an inch before he presses it flat. “More difficult than usual.”
He turns back to me. “Our community runs on a barter system. You are a daughter of Wintermoon now. Announce that you are of the Bouda and they will see that you get whatever you need.”
He leads Zaki away. I close the car door and double check the key fob my pocket out of habit.
I grab Kojo’s hand. He squeezes it, his eyes scanning the crowd, his ridge rippling beneath his shirt. He’s in the middle of more supernaturals than he’s probably ever seen and he doesn’t know what to do with the safety of it.
“You can be yourself here,” I tell him. “You don’t have to hide. Everyone here is just like you.”
He smiles at me and nods, and I pull him into the market. He lets me lead, and after a few stalls his grip loosens. His shoulders drop. His ridge lies flat. He’s just walking, bare feet on wet ground, and nobody flinches when they look at him. I don’t say anything about it.
But something Amir said sits with me as we walk. Meeting halfway. Zaki with her eggs this morning. Amir with his warnings that went unheard. And me, standing between two cultures, trying to figure out how much of myself I’m willing to bend.
