Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Polly was still there.
Njkall knew it before he fully surfaced from sleep—knew it by the small warm weight against his side, the slow soft breathing near his ribs, and the tickle of dark hair spread across his chest. For a long moment he lay still, afraid to move, afraid that any shift might wake her and send her scurrying back to the cold little cave she’d claimed as her refuge.
But she didn’t stir. And she didn’t leave.
She stayed.
He’d grown used to the other kind of morning.
The empty space beside him, still faintly warm.
The furs disturbed where a small body had lain through the night, then slipped away in the grey hour before dawn as though she’d never been there at all.
He’d never begrudged her that retreat—he understood it, understood the fear behind it better than she probably realized.
But he’d felt the absence every single time.
A quiet ache he’d learned to swallow along with all the other things he’d taught himself not to want.
But last night she had come to him deliberately.
I want to share your bed.
She stirred against him, her nose wrinkling as she surfaced from sleep. Grey eyes opened and blinked up at him.
“You’re staring at me.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“A while,” he admitted.
“That’s creepy.”
“Is it?”
“Very.”
He considered that. “I don’t care.”
Her mouth twitched. “Apparently we’re getting very honest around here.”
“You demanded it, little one.”
“I did.”
She stretched, then settled against him again instead of getting up. Another small choice. But gods, he treasured it.
“Why were you staring?” she asked.
“Because you were still here. And I didn’t want it to end.”
Her expression changed.
“Did you always notice?”
“Notice what?”
“When I left in the mornings.”
“Yes.”
“Every time?”
“Every time.”
“Oh.”
He waited. That was another thing he was learning. Silence did not always need to be filled. She would speak when she was ready. Her fingers traced an idle path through the fur on his chest as she sorted through whatever was going on in her head.
“Did it hurt?”
He could have avoided the answer. Once, he would have. He would have told her that her comfort was all that mattered, that he understood, that he expected nothing. All of those things were true. They were also not the answer to the question she’d asked.
“Yes, little one.”
Her fingers stopped moving, but he made himself continue.
“I understood why you left. But I wished you would stay.”
She lifted her head and looked up at him.
“You never said anything.”
“No.”
“Because you thought saying it would pressure me.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Now I am trying not to decide what you can bear hearing.”
A slow smile curved her mouth.
“Good. You’re making progress.”
“I am glad you approve.”
“I do.” She pushed herself upright, taking half the furs with her. “Although I reserve the right to yell at you again if you backslide.”
“I assumed you would.”
She laughed, and the sound filled the sleeping cave.
He wanted to grab her and pull her beneath him.
He wanted to spend the entire morning learning exactly how many other sounds he could coax from those pretty little lips.
Before he gathered the courage to make a move, someone pounded on the outer door.
She groaned and collapsed dramatically back onto the furs.
“Don’t answer it.”
He almost agreed, but the pounding came again.
“Clan Leader!”
“Duty,” he said.
“I don’t like duty.”
“Neither do I at the moment.”
That made her laugh again. He bent down and gave her an all-too-short kiss before taking up his responsibilities once more.
An hour later, the sleigh runners left clean lines in the fresh snow as they climbed towards the ridge where the resort sprawled against the mountainside.
The messenger pounding on the door had come to report that another three guests had ventured out alone into the wilderness and gotten lost. They’d been found by the time he was ready to start the journey, but he needed to discuss the problem with the resort manager before it occurred again.
Polly sat beside him, wrapped in borrowed furs, with Tess on her other side.
The morning air had painted color into her cheeks, and loose strands of dark hair whipped around her face.
He hadn’t expected her to agree when he asked if she wanted to accompany him, but to his surprise, she’d not only accepted but invited Tess to join them as well.
He remembered the first time he’d brought her this way. She’d barely spoken. She’d sat pressed against him, rigid beneath the furs, her small fingers clutching his belt. Every unfamiliar sound had made her flinch.
Today she was pointing something out to Tess in the distance, cheerfully arguing that the jagged formation on the eastern ridge looked like a sleeping animal.
“It does not,” Tess said.
“It does. There’s the head.”
“That’s a rock.”
Polly sighed. “Obviously it’s a rock. I didn’t think there was actually an animal the size of a mountain.”
“You said it looked like one.”
He tried to hide his amusement, but Polly caught him.
“You see it, don’t you?”
“I see a rock,” he said solemnly, and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Traitor.”
The resort emerged from the snow ahead of them, a sprawling complex of stone, timber, and glass built into the natural curves of the mountain. Tess leaned forward, her eyes wide.
“That’s the resort?”
“Yes.”
“It’s enormous.”
“The main building houses the guest quarters and common areas,” he said. “There are smaller lodges for visitors who prefer privacy and separate buildings for the staff.”
“So there are lots of strangers here?”
The amusement disappeared from Polly’s face. She was familiar with the resort—she’d lived there with him during much of the construction—but they’d left before the guests started to arrive.
“We don’t have to go through the public areas,” she told Tess. “There’s a back entrance through the staff corridors. It’s quieter.”
Tess glanced at her. “Because of me?”
“Because crowds are difficult,” she said. “For both of us.”
He said nothing. He had learned something since their argument—not every problem needed him to solve it.
They approached by the service road and entered through the rear of the resort. Caralt, a young Hothian female, greeted him and offered to have refreshments sent to one of the private observation rooms. He accepted, and led Polly and Tess to the room.
He watched Polly as they moved through the corridors.
She slowed beside a covered walkway, her expression unreadable.
He remembered that place too. She had collapsed there once during those first terrible days, unable to breathe, unable even to explain what frightened her.
He’d sat on the cold stone beside her for hours while workers and clan members stepped carefully around them.
Now she looked at the walkway for a moment, and then she kept walking. Something swelled beneath his ribs. He didn’t tell her he was proud of her, but he suspected she already knew.
The observation room was small and warm, with windows overlooking the rear of the resort.
The view was not the dramatic sweep down the valley at the front of the resort, but the harsh beauty of the ice-covered mountains.
She stood at the window, staring up at the jagged white peaks etched against the sky.
“Oh.”
He went to join her, and she leaned into him so naturally that his heart skipped a beat. Whatever was developing between them hadn’t taken this away.
“I thought you might like it.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is.”
He wasn’t looking at the mountains. She caught him and rolled her eyes again, but he only pulled her closer.
Across the room, Tess stood with her arms wrapped around herself, staring through another window.
“I forgot,” she said quietly, and Polly turned to her.
“Forgot what?”
“What it looks like when something is just pretty.” Tess swallowed. “Without it meaning something bad is about to happen.”
Polly went still beside him.
“It gets easier,” she said.
Tess looked at her. “Does it?”
“I promise that it does.”
The refreshments arrived and he left the females and went to meet with Gralar, the manager of the resort. Gralar wanted more patrols, while he wanted to expel any guests who ignored the safety rules.
“Our guests won’t appreciate being threatened like that,” Gralar protested.
“Dead guests will appreciate it even less,” he said dryly.
They eventually hammered out an agreement that provided for increased patrols, but also included an immediate expulsion for any guest who violated the wilderness restrictions, along with a hefty penalty.
When he returned to the observation room, Polly and Tess were talking quietly and he pretended to inspect something that didn’t need inspecting in order to avoid interrupting them.
Behind him, Tess said, “I’ve been thinking about Sherae some more.”
“Do you still want to go?” Polly asked.
“I do. I think.” Tess gave a humorless laugh. “It’s easy to say you want something when it’s far away.”
He understood that better than he cared to admit.
“What if I get there and hate it?” Tess continued. “What if I can’t find work? What if I get on a ship and spend the whole journey losing my mind?”
“Then you deal with those things when they happen.”
“That’s your advice?”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
Tess snorted, but Polly put a gentle hand on her arm. For once, the other woman didn’t flinch away from the touch.
“You don’t have to go tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to go at all.”
“I know that too.”
“But you want to. You want to start over.”
A long silence.
“Yes,” Tess said finally.
“Then start there.”
Tess stared out at the mountains. “Do you really think I could find work as a bartender?”
“Of course. People drink everywhere.”
“That’s your grand knowledge of the galaxy?”
“I’ve been to at least two planets. I think that makes me an expert.”
Tess laughed. The sound was rusty and reluctant, but real. Then her expression sobered.
“If I went to Sherae…” She hesitated. “Would you come with me?”
He stopped breathing. Polly didn’t say anything, but he forced himself not to turn around.
It wasn’t his question. It wasn’t his choice.
But his claws curled into his palms. Polly leaving the caves.
Polly boarding a ship. Polly crossing the stars to a world he had never seen.
Polly leaving him behind. Every instinct in his body rejected the idea.
No!
The word rose so powerfully he nearly spoke it aloud. Somehow he managed to swallow it.
Polly was silent for so long that he finally turned. She was staring at Tess, another expression he couldn’t read on her face.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’d have to think about it.”
Tess nodded.
“Fair enough.”
A knock sounded at the door, followed by Caralt carrying another tray of steaming drinks. The moment broke, and he was grateful for it. And hated himself for the gratitude.
They didn’t speak of Tess’s question until much later.
The sleigh carried them home through falling snow, both females quiet beneath their furs. When they reached the clan caves, Tess went directly to Cera. Polly walked beside him towards their quarters. He knew the question was coming before she asked it.
“You don’t want me to go, do you?”
He kept walking.
“No.”
She didn’t say anything, and he had the overwhelming urge to explain.
Sherae was distant. They knew too little about it.
Travel carried risks. Tess was still recovering.
Polly had only recently become comfortable in Port Eyeja.
There were a hundred reasons why leaving Hothrest might be unwise.
A hundred reasons he could offer instead of the truth. He offered none of them.
“No,” he repeated. “I don’t want you to go.”
She stopped, and he stopped with her.
“But you didn’t say anything.”
“It wasn’t my question to answer.”
“What if I decide I want to?”
His chest tightened, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “Then I will help you prepare for the journey.”
Her eyes searched his face.
“Even though you don’t want me to go.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “Because wanting you to stay does not give me the right to keep you here.”
Something shifted in her expression, and once again he couldn’t read it. That was unusual. He knew the language of her fear better than his own. But this wasn’t fear.
“You really don’t want me to go,” she said.
“No.”
He saw the beginning of a smile, and gave her a confused look.
“Why are you pleased?”
“Because you said it.”
“I’ve said it three times.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at her, and she stepped closer, placing her hand over his heart.
“You didn’t tell me what was safest. You didn’t tell me what you thought I should do. You didn’t pretend you didn’t care because you were afraid caring might influence me.”
He winced slightly.
“You just told me what you wanted.”
“I thought that was what you demanded.”
“It was.”
“Then why do you look surprised?”
“Because I didn’t know if you’d actually do it.”
He grunted, and her smile widened.
“I don’t know if I’d go,” she said. “The idea of getting on a ship again makes me feel sick. And I don’t know if I’m ready to leave Hothrest.”
He waited.
“But that’s my fear to figure out.”
“Yes.”
“And if I decide I want to go…”
“I will not stop you. It is your choice.”
She nodded, and then she slid her hand into his.
“But right now,” she said, “I’m choosing to walk home with you.”
His fingers closed carefully around hers. That was enough. It had to be. But he was no longer going to pretend—to himself or to her—that it was all he wanted. He wanted tomorrow. He wanted the day after that. He wanted every morning she had not yet chosen.
He simply had to wait for her to choose them.