Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Her fingers twitched in mine as she inhaled another thin breath. “You can’t keep saying things like that.”
“Things like what?”
“Things that make me doubt everything I know. It makes me want to turn my back on the people who saved my life. To ignore the warnings from a fire that I shouldn’t be able to hear. It makes me want to...touch you again.”
I could push her.
I could drag her into my arms and show her that the pain I felt could infect both of us. I could touch her like she’d touched me and drown her beneath pleasure that would switch her loyalties entirely to me.
But then I might lose her because everything that drew me to her were the very things preventing her from accepting me.
Her honour.
Her compassion.
Her steadfast attempts at being good and kind to everything and everyone.
Instead, all I could do was keep my heart as open as I dared, beg my memories to unlock as quickly as they could, and do my best to show her my truth, all while doing whatever it took not to spook her.
I brought the conversation back to safer ground, deliberately changing the subject. “Do you eat these raw?” I pointed at the tubers, removing my hand from hers.
She rolled her shoulders as if shrugging off the heated intensity brewing between us. She gave me a quick smile, grateful for my innocent question. “You can, but they’re better boiled or roasted. But both of those methods require fire to cook.” A line darted between her eyebrows as she held up her hand and closed her eyes. A crackle and pop and a tiny flame appeared in her palm.
The sudden scratching of claws on cave rock echoed all around us as the dozing wolves shot to their feet. Their yellow eyes all locked onto the fire sparkling and dancing in Runa’s hand.
I fought the urge to clamp my palm over hers to snuff it out, remembering the burn of before. “You might not want to start a fire in a wolf den.”
Kiu snarled from her pup-filled nest, her fangs white in the night.
Runa immediately snapped her hand closed. “Oh, how stupid of me. Of course. Fire is a threat to them.” She winced in Kiu’s direction. “I’m sorry.”
The female wolf ceased her growling and dropped her heavy head back onto the ground, accepting Runa’s apology.
“It’s not just a threat to them. It’s a threat to me.” I rolled my shoulders, my nose wrinkling as the scent of smoke rose from her fingers.
“You? Why?” Her eyebrows rose.
I sat taller, grateful for the chance to give her a piece of myself after she’d just shared a piece with me. “When I was alone, I found shelter in an outcropping of trees. A lightning storm caught one on fire. For a little while, I relished the heat after being so eternally cold. But then it grew and grew, devouring everything in sight. I ran for my life.” My voice darkened. “I was lucky. I got away with just a few burns, but not every creature survived that night.”
Runa pushed away her basket and drew her knees up to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged. “Everything back then was a learning experience. When I first opened my eyes to an empty world, I knew nothing. I could walk and think but that was about it.”
The wolves glowered at Runa and the fading stench of smoke before stretching their mighty bulks, raking claws on stone, and shaking out dense fur. With a few annoyed snorts, they slunk out of the cave, ready to roam, leaving us alone with just Kiu, her pups, and Natim.
Runa hugged her knees, resting her chin on top. “I was the same. I woke alone and remember stumbling, willing my legs to work and my mind to give me answers. Those first few days were the worst because my heart still beat in hope.” She stilled and stared into the darkness as if seeing the past. “One night, after a few moon cycles of struggling, I remember dropping to my knees in a valley where snow-capped mountains towered on both sides. Bats darted around me, eating the buzzing thicket of insects that skimmed over the lake just beyond. A glacier glittered in the moonlight, seeming to glow an otherworldly blue as it carved its way into the valley from the high, high mountains. That night was the first night my heart didn’t crack in loneliness. I drank in the moment and was grateful to be alive, even if I had nothing and no one.” Her eyes focused, locking onto mine. “And then, a beast appeared.”
“A beast?”
She nodded. “A creature I must’ve dreamed because I’ve never seen another, and it was far too fantastical to be real.”
“What did it look like?”
A faint scowl highlighted her features, giving weight to her recollection. “It was bigger than any bison. Bigger than many trees. It had the body of a lizard and the head of a...” She rubbed her arms with a shrug. “Its head was unique. It wasn’t like any other creature. Long snout, a thousand teeth, frilled skin that framed its dished cheeks, and eyes like chips of the blue glacier.” She sighed as if the memory soothed her loneliness like it had that night. “Its body was covered in scales that glittered and gleamed like the moon dancing on water. Its tail was as muscular and powerful as a snake and its wings....” She laughed under her breath. “They looked like a butterfly’s only as large as clouds. Dusted with stars and veined with streaks of midnight. And its horns—”