Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My mate nearly died.
He wakes up from his coma…and he can’t remember me. Or our son. Every memory of the past two years is gone. And that changes everything between us. How can I love someone that doesn’t remember me?
How can I not, when I know he’s still my mate underneath it all?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
STACY
Pashov’s arms go around me and he nuzzles my neck, all affection. He’s always very affectionate around breakfast. And lunch. And okay, dinner. The man’s ruled by his stomach, and today is no change. He presses a kiss to my neck and then peers at my frying pan. “Are you making those for me?”
“No,” I say, teasing in my voice. “This is for Josie. Are you hungry again?”
“I am always hungry, female.” His hand slides to my butt and he gives it a squeeze. “Perhaps throw one of your cakes on there for your suffering mate?”
Suffering? I snort with amusement, but I get out a scoop of the mash I use for the not-potato cakes. “Sweet or meat?”
“Meat, of course.”
Of course. He likes sweets about as much as the next sa-khui, which is to say not at all. I open my pouch of spices for the peppery flavoring he likes so much. “Oh, shoot. I’m out. I need more of the spicy stuff. Do you think your mother has more?”
“There is some in the storage cave,” he tells me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I will go and get it for you.”
“Leave Pacy with me,” I tell him, setting my pan down. “He needs to eat, too.”
He shrugs off the papoose carrier and sets my son down near my feet, touching his nose. “Do not eat all of the cakes. Save some for your father.”
Pacy giggles and tries to catch his father’s big finger with his tiny hands. My heart squeezes with affection at the sight. “Hurry up,” I warn Pashov. “I need those spices if you want to eat.” I’m not trying to nudge him too much, but my mate can get distracted at times, and if I leave my pan on for too long, it’ll get too hot and scorch the cakes.
“I am going,” he says, uncurling his big body and getting to his feet. He tugs on my braid, grabs my ass again as he leaves, and then jogs away into one of the back tunnels.
The ground shifts.
I drop my pan into the fire, ignoring the crash of sparks it makes, and grab Pacy instead. I don’t understand what’s happening. I look around, wondering if I’m imagining things, but then the ground shakes again.
“Out of the cave!” someone bellows, and then hands grab me and pull me blindly after them. I think it’s Haeden, and he’s got Josie in one arm and drags me with the other.
“Wait!” I cry out. “Pashov!” He’s in the storage cave.
I look over…and then the ceiling collapses.
“PASHOV!”
I wake up in a cold sweat. Every inch of me is slick with it, and I rub my arms briskly to get rid of the dampness before it can crystallize to frost. Next to me in the nest of furs is Pacy. He’s got one fist in his mouth, and as I watch, his little mouth works as if nursing in his sleep. Normally the sight of my son in sleep brings me immense joy, but today…
All I can see is the velvety pale blue skin, the dark lashes that frame his eyes, and the nose with the bump right in the middle of the bridge, just like his father. He’s the spitting image of him, and it hurts me.
I’ve lost my mate.
Even though Pacy’s asleep, I pick him up and pull open my tunic, settling him to my breast. He latches on sleepily and then begins to nurse, pushing a small hand against my skin. The nursing’s to comfort me more than him, I think. I need to hold him close. I need to feel the calm that motherhood brings with it.
I need to feel the touch of someone who loves me and whom I love.
Because right now, I’m losing control.
I glance across the small tent. Georgie’s sleeping curled against her mate, with Talie in a basket of furs nearby. They’ve been nice enough to let me stay with them for the last week and a half, but I know it can’t be easy on them. It’s not easy on me, either. Every time Vektal pulls Georgie close, I think of Pashov. Every time they exchange a look, I think of Pashov. Every time he steals a kiss from her, I think of Pashov.
And I hurt all over again.
Tears threaten, but I close my eyes and force myself to be calm. It does no good thinking about my mate right now. Right now, he is not my mate. He doesn’t remember me. Doesn’t remember the last two years we’ve spent together, or the baby we made together. Doesn’t remember resonating to me.
Doesn’t remember me at all.
To him, I’m just another faceless, puzzling human. He doesn’t remember our crash here. He doesn’t remember Vektal mating to Georgie, or me resonating to him the first day we met. He doesn’t remember the birth of our son. He remembers his sister and his brothers. He remembers his family and the rest of the tribe.