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)
“Stay-see,” I say, my voice calm. “I will not let you and Pacy fall. This I promise.”
“I know. I just. I can’t. High. Really high.” Her words are quick and pulsing, her movements twitchy. I begin to worry that she will lose her grip on Pacy, who is already squirming. I pluck him from her lap, and his wet leathers slap against my arm. “He needs changing.”
“Yes. Of course.” She blinks rapidly, but her face is still bone-white. She cannot stop staring at the valley below.
I must get her away from this. “Stay-see.” I keep my voice calm. Is her fear of heights something I have forgotten? Am I a terrible mate because I am torturing her by bringing her this high? I eye the cliff, but this path is the best one, already rutted with the sleds that have gone before us. It will be quickest if I continue forward instead of taking her to fresh snow. “I am going to change Pacy’s leathers,” I tell her. “And then I am going to carry him for a while. You must calm down.”
“I’m calm,” she snaps, and sounds anything but. Her trembling hand goes to her brow. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be calm. I know it’s stupid. I just—”
“No,” I tell her. Greatly daring, I reach out and brush my knuckles over her cheek. Her face is ice cold, but she looks up at me with big, glowing eyes and a frightened expression that makes my heart ache. “It is not stupid. You are frightened, but I am here. I will not let you fall.”
Her hand brushes over mine, and she rubs her cheek against my hand. I feel a surge move through my body—protective, possessive, and full of need. “I trust you,” she whispers.
I gaze down into her eyes and feel a connection to her. Something deep inside—
“Why have you stopped moving?” Bek bellows, storming up to the side of our sled. He moves along the edge of the cliff, and plants his hands on the side of my sled. Stay-see jerks away with a whimper, and the moment is lost.
I want to snarl at Bek, but my anger at him will not bring the connection with Stay-see back. It is gone. “We need a moment.”
“Why? We are traveling. You can have many moments when we stop for the night.” Bek raises a spear, gesturing at the caravan of sleds far ahead of us. “You will lose sight of the group if you go any slower.”
“We need a moment,” I repeat, a low growl rumbling in my throat. I adjust my son on my arm. “Unless you wish to change my son’s leathers for him?”
Bek gives a constipated frown, then glares at me. “I do not think so.”
I flick a hand at him. “Then go on. We will move again soon.”
He snorts and mutters something under his breath, storming forward.
I toss my light shoulder-wrap onto the snow and set my son down on it. He makes a burbling sound and raises his hands into the air, reaching for me. His tail flicks wildly back and forth, and there’s a bright, gummy smile on his face that makes me laugh with sheer joy. When he makes that face, he looks like Farli did when she was young. Does he look like me? I touch his small features. I have never seen my own face, but I must look somewhat like my sister.
His legs wiggle in the air and I peel one corner of his leather breeches off. It is hot and wet, and a horrible stench rises in the air. “Faugh!” I bury my nose in the crook of my elbow, trying to protect it from the smell. “Is he sick?”
Stay-see gives a small laugh—still fragile, but sounding more like herself. “No, he’s just a baby.”
“Does his dung always smell so foul?” I return the scrap of leather to its place at his belly in an attempt to cut the stench.
“Not always.” After a moment, she adds, “But a lot of the time, yes.”
I glance over at her. She’s lying down on the sled, and the hood is pulled over her face. Maybe she feels better now that she cannot see the cliffs. Good. I will fix the problem of my son’s leathers, and I will carry him so she can relax for a time. “What do I do with the dirty one? I have never changed a kit’s leathers…or if I have, I do not remember.”
“You have,” she says, and her voice is so soft. “But I can walk you through it.”
For some reason, I feel sad. It is just leathers…I look down into my son’s happy face as he waves his arms and legs. And I wonder what else it is I have missed.
4
STACY
Today makes my heart hurt so much. For a little while, it was almost like having my Pashov back. Not the Pashov with the single horn and the confused smile on his face when he changes diapers. For a brief, shining moment, we felt like husband and wife. Or mate and mate, I suppose. Like nothing had ever come between us.