CLAIRE

“It’s been four days. Should we go after them?” I toy with the decorative knots on the edge of my new tunic, worried.

Megan slaps at my hands. “Quit fussing. You’re going to ruin that pretty new tunic that Sevvah made for you.”

I stick my tongue out at her, momentarily distracted from my all-consuming worry over Asha. “I wish she was the one giving me all the other gifts.”

“Still?” Georgie asks, glancing over at me. She pulls Pacy’s bone dreidel out of Talie’s hands and gives it back to the little boy.

I’m sitting by the fire early this morning with the others while Stacy makes us a ‘holiday’ breakfast of eggs and not-potato latkes. Feast Day isn’t until the next day—today is Family Day, which means exchanging gifts with family and spending a meal with them. Kinda a quasi-Thanksgiving, sa-khui style. Except they’ve all thrown themselves into the whole gift-giving situation and everyone’s been handing gifts out right and left to anyone and everyone. It’s sweet, and I love that everyone’s into the holiday…

But it’s also making it that much harder to find out who my secret gift-giver is. Ugh.

I suppose I should be thankful that I’m still getting the mystery gifts. Between those and the celebrations (and my affectionate, marvelous mate being around), it’s almost serving to distract me from the fact that Asha and Hemalo have been gone for days. I get up from my stool and head over to the rolled-back awning in the longhouse, glancing out. The weather is super foul today, but of course it is. If it wasn’t, Ereven wouldn’t be sitting by the fireside, letting Farli and Sessah paint swirls all over his forearms like a big blue sa-khui canvas. “I worry about them,” I tell Georgie and Megan. “You think we should send someone after them?”

“Nope,” Georgie says in a confident voice. She grabs Talie before she can steal Pacy’s dreidel again and hands her a new toy—a woven basket with a lid. “They’re fine, I promise.”

“But how do you know?” I move back toward the women, still worried.

“Um, because they lived on this planet for hundreds of years before we got here and the cold doesn’t bother them like it does us? This isn’t their first winter, and it won’t be their last. They know how to take care of themselves. They’re fine.”

“Georgie’s right,” Megan says, rubbing the back of her little one as it nurses. “You’re stressing out over nothing. Enjoy the day, girl. Isn’t that what today is all about? Relaxing and enjoying ourselves? You’re the only one not relaxing!”

I doubt I’m the only one. But I sigh and sit back down again. “But what if—”

“Nope,” Georgie interjects before I can say more. She’s got her ‘chief’s mate’ voice going now. “Leave it alone, Claire. I promise you, they’re fine. Someone going after them would just make it worse. And do you really want to send someone away chasing those two bickering dorks when there’s hunting to be done? Do you want Ereven or any of the other hunters to miss out on the celebrations only to find Asha and Hemalo bickering—”

“And humping,” Megan adds quickly.

“—in the snow?”

I roll my eyes. “Fine, fine. I’m being a worrywart.”

“You are,” Georgie agrees with a smile. “But it’s sweet that you’re concerned. You’re being a good friend to Asha.”

She’s been a good friend to me, too. I wouldn’t have half of the stuff organized if it weren’t for her help, and she knew just how to approach people to make them excited about silly human customs. Even if she doesn’t believe it sometimes, people in this tribe care about her and love her. They want what’s best for her.

Including me.

“Claire?” Warrek asks, moving to my side. He’s got a basket in his hands.

“Oh no,” Megan moans, a horrified laugh escaping her throat. “Another?”

I gasp, getting slowly to my feet. “Warrek, is it you?”

“No,” the quiet hunter says. He has such an awkward look on his face that I feel a stab of pity for him. “I was only told to deliver it. I promise.”

I narrow my eyes at him and then cross my arms over my chest, resting them just over my baby bump. “What if I don’t want it?”

He glances over at the far end of the longhouse and then back to me. “I…uh…”

Oooh. So the gift-giver is still nearby? “They’re here, aren’t they?”

Warrek shakes his head, a panicked look moving over his features. “No. I did not say that.”

“You don’t have to.” I use Megan’s shoulder to brace myself, and maneuver my way through the crowd of people. I head for the entrance, because that’s where Warrek was looking. Sure enough, as I move to the entrance of the longhouse, I see a figure cloaked in furs hurrying away back down the main street of Croatoan village. Hmm. I look around the fire once more, but my mate is here. My friends are here. Who is it?

Ereven looks over at me, curious. I raise a finger at him, indicating I’ll be just a moment, and then head out of the lodge after my mysterious gift-giver. Time to figure out who it is.

I can’t exactly hurry after the person, but there’s only so many places one can hide in our little village. I know where to go, and so I head down the main street, then look for smoke plumes. My gift-giver’s gotten a little careless, and now I’m going to have her. Or him. The figure disappears into a hut at the far end of the village, the only one with a trickle of smoke from the teepee top of the house. I recognize the house, too. I slow down as I approach, not wanting to scare off my furtive friend. As I move toward the house, I see the privacy flap is up, and I enter, ready to confront the person.

It’s exactly who I thought it was. The moment I saw the house, I knew. And the person that looks up when I enter isn’t the least bit surprised to see me.

It’s Bek.

OceanofPDF.com

11

ASHA

I am lucky that I have the fire burning in my belly to keep me warm. After days of chasing Hemalo’s tracks, I am tired, cold, and hungry. I am even more annoyed with him for leaving me behind, and hurt that he would do such a thing without even trying to talk to me.

I am also incredibly, irritatingly aroused. The soft fur of my thickest tunic only serves to rub against my sensitive skin and drive home the fact that I have resonated and have no way to relieve myself of this need. When I find Hemalo, I am going to tear his hide up, I decide, for making me trek all over the hills looking for him.

And then I hope he wants to go straight into the furs.

Actually, do I even want that? My heart is still torn. He has abandoned me—twice now—and yet my body craves his. I want the kit our resonance will bring, as much as it terrifies me to think I could lose another. If I must do this—and resonance says I must—I need my mate at my side. I need his quiet strength to lean on. Without it, I am just an endless fire of rage, burning myself and others as I struggle to come to grips with my grief. I need him.

In return, I will be…kinder. I will not lash out at him as much when I hurt, I decide. I will try to be a better mate. It will be a struggle, but all good things are worth more effort. I only hope that Hemalo sees me as something still worth the effort. Perhaps he does not. Perhaps this is why he has abandoned me again.

Even as I think about it, the helpless anger that has burned in my gut for days, ever since I found him gone, stirs forth once more. Why leave without talking? Why not speak to me? Tell me what he feels instead of just leaving? I hate that I must guess. I assume I know what is in his heart—are we not closer than anyone else in the tribe?