I do not answer. She studies my face, reads the truth there, and her look sharpens. “Hmmm.” She crosses her arms. “I think I need to have a few words with him.”
No she does not,my Bouda says immediately.Tell her she does not need to speak with me. We are fine. Everything is fine. There is no need for the queen to address me directly.
I know how the Bouda responds to the authority of a matriarch. The frequency that Zaki uses to drop me to my knees is the external version, but the internal version, where the queen simply decides to discipline the beast directly, is worse. My Bouda would fold. He knows it, and the knowledge has him pacing inside my head with the nervous energy of a creature who has just realized the queen can reach him wherever he hides. I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
“He says there is no need,” I tell her.
She looks unconvinced. “Mm-hmm.”
I grab her basket and gesture toward the counter. “Is this all? Would you like me to carry another basket for you?”
She sighs, taking one last look at the clothing racks. “I guess this will do for now.” She walks beside me toward the front of the store and bumps her shoulder against my arm. “Thank you for letting me get out of the cabin for a few hours.”
“You thank me for nothing, Kendra.”
I set the basket on the counter and open my mouth to introduce myself, but the clerk---a young woman with frecklesand an easy grin---smiles before I can speak. “I know who you are, Bouda. Welcome to Wintermoon.” She begins pulling items from the basket and folding them into bags. “I’m Tasha. I’ll get this bagged up for you.”
She bags my queen’s things and sets them aside with a smile, and I stand there long enough for my Bouda to notice.
This is a good land for our cubs,my Bouda says.They will grow up surrounded by people who know their name and do not run from it. But we must meet with Meekah. He waits outside.
I nod to Tasha. “Thank you. I must step out for a moment.”
“I’ll set your bags to the side,” she says. “They aren’t going anywhere.”
I grab Kendra’s hand and pull her toward the door. She looks over her shoulder at the clerk, who waves, and then back at me. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to meet someone.”
We walk out of the store and Kendra gasps. Meekah stands several feet from the entrance, arms crossed over a chest that rivals a small building. He is exactly as I remember him---enormous, with a thick mane of dark hair flowing past his shoulders, golden eyes that burn with irritation, and a tail that sways behind him in slow arcs. He wears simple clothing, no shoes, and the feline features of his face are sharper than they were the last time I saw him at the border.
I approach with my fist pressed to my chest and bow my head. He watches me come, his face hard and assessing. Then he mirrors the gesture, his massive fist against his chest, and the acknowledgment passes between us. Kendra is not paying attention to the ritual. She is too busy staring at his tail.
“Your clan has finally decided to migrate to Wintermoon?” He asks. He unfolds his arms and looks between us, smilingsmugly “Good. These shifters get on my nerves, and they smell funny too.”
If there comes a day when Meekah delivers a compliment without an insult wrapped around it,my Bouda says,I will suspect Mother Fate has finally lost her mind.
“We are not here because we want to be,” I tell him. “We are here because we have to.”
The hardness in Meekah’s face shifts---a loosening around his jaw, a drop in the tension across his shoulders. He has lost things too. Perhaps not a village, but a thousand years of waiting for a mate while watching his pride stagnate around him. He knows what it is to carry an empty future.
A wolf shifter walking the path behind Kendra drifts too close, his shoulder angling toward her. Before I can move, Meekah’s tail whips out and shoves the shifter sideways off the path. The wolf stumbles and turns with a snarl building on his lips, but Meekah’s roar cuts it dead. The wolf glares, jaw tight, and backs down.
Kendra yelps at the noise and presses closer to me, but Meekah has already turned his attention to her, his face doing something I have only seen twice in all the years I have known him. It softens. “Mother Fate has blessed you. She is beautiful, Alemayehu.”
He used our birth name,my Bouda says.With respect. In front of our queen.
Kendra gives a nervous smile, her fingers tightening on my arm. Meekah bows his head to her, low and slow, his mane falling forward. “I am Meekah of Zohar Pride. It is an honor to meet you.”
I take Kendra’s hand in mine. “This is my Kendra.”Ours,my Bouda corrects. I straighten my shoulders and give Meekah the words I know he will understand. “She is also our queen.”
Meekah goes quiet. His tail stops swaying. He looks to me, and I nod once, confirming what he suspects.
“Are there others?” he asks.
“Zaki. She is in the spa with King Amir.”
His face saddens. He steps forward and places his large hand on my shoulder. “She wouldn’t listen,” he says. “She wouldn’t come here.”
