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)
Her tears hurt me. They wound my heart. I want to be whole, for her. I want to remember what I have lost. I want it so badly that my fists clench at my side and my entire body strains with frustration.
On my chest, my small mate trembles, and her tears wet my skin. Even though she lies atop me, I feel Stay-see is more distant now than ever. I do not want that. I want to be close to her. I want to remember.
I need it.
I must comfort my mate, though. Her distress is destroying me. Hesitant to bother her more, I stroke her back. Once. Slowly. Tentatively. When she does not push me away, I continue to run a hand up and down her smooth back, petting her. She is so soft. Her entire body feels like a soft clasp. Even her back is nothing but pink softness and a hint of bumps underneath her skin along her spine. There is no bony plating to protect her softness. There is no tough, sinewy muscle. She is…fragile.
She is mine to protect. From everything.
I hold her as she cries, her tears wetting my chest, and every one of them feeling like an icicle pressed to my heart. I must fix this. I must. But how? I worry over this, wondering, even as she slowly cries herself to sleep. Even when she no longer shudders with tears, I still hold her.
I want to hold her forever. I want back what I lost.
I did not realize until now just how much I had lost.
Even in her sleep, Stay-see turns to me for protection. She shivers and huddles against me in a deep slumber, and I wrap my body around her to keep her warm. Pacy is undisturbed in his crib, but the cold troubles my frail human.
She is mine, now. I do not care that I do not remember her. She is mine, and I am not going to give her up. I will fight with every breath in my body to make her happy.
I do not sleep that night. Even though I am tired, I cannot. I push my mind, trying to recall every small thing that I can. My sister’s bald head when she was born. The first time Zennek and I went hunting with our father, Borran. My first taste of sah-sah. The crushing moment when Hemalo resonated to Asha and I lost my last hope of having a resonance mate. Of hunts, both good and bad. I remember so many things.
But of Stay-see, there is nothing but blankness. Of Pacy, my son, nothing.
And it makes me angry.
I have lost her. I thought when she reached for me, that we would mate and it would be pleasurable. I did not realize that in doing so, it would hurt her. I never want to hurt her again.
In the morning, the storms have cleared from the skies and the snow no longer falls. The ominous clouds are in the distance, and the weather has warmed. It will be a good day for travel. Not for me, because the snow will be thick and slushy due to the suns, but for my mate, who cannot stand the cold. I get up from our shared furs and dress, watching her. She is a small bundle under the furs, still sleeping heavily.
I will get her food and let her sleep for a bit longer.
I emerge from the tent and use a handful of snow to wash myself, gazing about the campsite. There is a fire this morning, the faint scent of smoke permeating the air. Several human women sit around it, and everywhere the camp is full of sa-khui packing gear, sharpening weapons, or grabbing a bite to eat before setting off on the trail again.
I must find the healer. I must have her put my memories back somehow.
A tiny sneeze and then a gurgle catches my attention. Pacy. Quickly, I duck back into the tent and pull him out of his basket. His lower half is damp, and the smell of piss makes my nostrils burn. For a moment, I think about waking Stay-see, but then I feel shame. Surely I can change my own son. It cannot be that difficult. I pull off his filthy wrap, ignoring his wiggling and trying to remember how Stay-see did it yesterday. Her hands moved so fast. I find a square piece of leather that looks like it has been washed many times, with cords on the sides. This must be it. I toss his filthy wrap aside and try to put the new one on him, but he wiggles and bounces and makes it nearly impossible to do so. Exasperated, I wrap one of my own cloaks around his lower half, tuck him under my arm, and head into the encampment to seek the healer.