Chapter 15
Jolene
The night had been quiet, but I knew the day wasn’t going to be.
Khawla’s kids were quiet as they clambered down from the loft and sat at the table to eat their breakfast. I wasn’t sure if that was just because they were well-behaved or because they knew just how uncertain the day was going to be.
Rasho checked over the bag his father had left by the door twice, asking Nisha repeatedly to make sure Vod was in it.
I thought that was sweet; less sweet was the part where the two boys went over the knife options with their dad.
I couldn’t listen to them muttering about protecting Nisha and me, with their heads stuck close together, so I sat down with the girl to braid her hair—a task I’d done for many a little girl at the hospital.
Khawla kept glancing at us with a soft smile on his rugged, handsome face, and it kept making my chest grow tight.
What if we didn’t make it out of this? Who was going to look after these three, then?
We had to survive, and I was determined to somehow convince Reshar—or maybe another sympathetic hunter—to let us out.
I was pretty sure Khawla had the same idea, but I wasn’t going to sit on my ass and wait around.
I had my sling, and when I indicated to Nisha that I wanted rocks for it, she was quickly game.
It distracted her from her sore bruises and cuts, and she got Daois in on the game.
They pulled pebbles out of the dirt floor and piled them on the table.
When they fiddled with the back wall, literally prying rocks out of the clay and branch wall panels, their dad didn’t stop them.
He watched my sling curiously instead, as I gave it some practice swings and tossed a few rocks at the wooden bowls.
When one hit with a thud, his younglings cheered, and Nisha even laughed.
“Not very effective against Naga scales,” Khawla concluded, “but if your aim is good, try for faces. It’ll probably stun and confuse.
” Then he held out a fur-and-leather bundle to me, something he’d been fiddling with while we entertained ourselves with the rocks.
“Put this on. It won’t be long now. I tried to make snowshoes, but those aren’t finished yet, and I don’t know if they’ll work.
” He pointed to something by the door—two rounds with netting that could probably be lashed to my feet.
One was done, but the other had only half its netting.
It wouldn’t work unless I had two, but it was a good start.
I didn’t get a chance to say that, though.
I’d only just shrugged into the tunic, pants, and clunky but much-improved shoes he’d made when a knock came on the small home’s door.
We all froze, and I shared a look with Khawla before he went to the door and opened it.
I snatched the sling off the edge of the table and tucked it into my belt, and Rasho was quick to hand me a pouch with the rocks his siblings had gathered.
I hoped they wouldn’t recognize it as a weapon, since Khawla hadn’t known what it was either.
That way, at least one of us was armed, because he definitely wasn’t taking his spear.
There were at least a dozen Naga waiting for us outside, and the bossy one from last night—not Reshar—was in the lead.
Khawla blocked their view into his home with most of his body, rising on his tail and widening his stance to make it clear they weren’t getting in.
“You’ve certainly managed to endear yourself to the new Queen, haven’t you, Msera?
” he drawled, with no small amount of censure.
Nisha had hidden behind me, and I discovered that Rasho was just in front of me.
Daois was almost six, at least, I thought that was what Khawla meant when he said he was approaching his sixth molting.
He clearly didn’t know whether to hide or mimic his brother.
It felt natural to reach out and grasp his small, clawed little hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.
Not that I felt any semblance of calm, my heart was pounding in my chest, and nervous sweat was dripping down my spine.
They were here to escort us in front of the Queen, and by Khawla’s own account, it was a small miracle I hadn’t been killed yet.
I was pretty sure that was Reshar’s doing, but why, I didn’t know.
At least now I understood why Khawla had helped me despite his Clan’s anti-human sentiment.
I was his mate, the one lady his sigils had lit for.
I didn’t know if that made me unique, but I’d definitely had learned that the mother of his children was not.
If not for the dire situation—being a captive and all—I would have to give this a lot more thought.
There was no space for that, though, so I needed to park it and trust in Khawla.
That, at least, was not difficult. I knew he wanted to keep me and his younglings safe without a shadow of a doubt.
The guy, Msera, did not like the barb my protector had lobbed his way, but other than a sharp look, he did not engage.
“You are summoned before the Queen,” he said with smug satisfaction.
“She is to pronounce judgment on all of you.” When he flicked his eyes from Khawla to me, that was no surprise, but horror washed over me when he lowered his gaze to include the small kids.
All of us—not just the adults, but Khawla’s children too.
Khawla rattled a growl at the guy, and I could see him flinch back before he could control the response.
I wondered if the dozen others I’d glimpsed were all so fanatical they were okay with this.
It was hard to believe anyone was. I couldn’t see them, though, because Msera and Khawla filled the doorway.
Turning, I picked up Nisha and carried her to the peg where her coat and tail warmer hung.
She’d pointed hers out with great distaste this morning, but she’d just watched me shrug into a coat myself.
When I handed the boys their coats, they took them silently, and Nisha did not protest when I dressed her warmly either.
All the while, Msera glared at us, though he did not tell us to hurry up, and Khawla glared at him with his single good eye.
It was a standoff, where my guy obviously still held enough of a threat to make the others give us space.
If that meant we were late for the meeting with the Queen… I couldn’t be mad about it.
Eventually, Nisha had her tail warmer on the right way, and she was on my back, her small tail looped about my waist to hold her up, her arms around my neck.
She had a lock of my hair pinned, but I did not tell her to move.
“Ready,” I said quietly as I took Daois’s hand again and tugged him against my side.
We moved to Khawla’s side together, and he finally broke his stare off with the Queen’s errand boy to look at us, his expression grim, hard, and definitely worried, though he tried to hide it.
Stepping out of Khawla’s home was like getting slapped in the face; the cold was still so fierce that it made my lungs ache.
I needed a fur collar to frame my face, which would help, but this new tunic only fit snugly around my neck.
It was still a big improvement over yesterday’s clothing, and I was extremely grateful Khawla had taken the time to make it.
He must have done so after I’d fallen asleep, because I remembered very little after he’d gone up to soothe Nisha’s nightmare.
There were indeed over a dozen Naga to escort us, all armed with spears and stone blades.
Their expressions were grim and dark, like those of Khawla and Msera.
As we began walking, I realized faces were peering out of doors and alleys, more curious than grim.
The closer we got to the town’s square, the more blatant they were in their curiosity.
That was when I got my first look at a Naga female.
She was tall and muscled, much like her male counterparts, but much more slender.
With a fur sleeveless tunic covering her torso, it was hard to see, but I got the impression she did not have much in the way of breasts.
Her long, dark blue hair was in many intricate braids, and gold glinted at her throat and on her wrists.
She looked beautiful, feminine, and nothing like what I’d been picturing based on the stories Khawla had told me.
In my head, Kusha had gotten big and brawny like Khawla, because the way he talked clearly made her the boss.
But not just bossy, a fighter too, brawling day and night with claws and teeth for status and power.
Somehow that had all equated to having them look like pro wrestlers in my head, but now that I saw another, and then another, I knew that wasn’t true.
They were smaller than their male counterparts, and pretty, with all their various jewel shades of blue, intricate hairdos, and fancy jewelry.
The only sign that what Khawla said about their warrish ways was true were the many scars that often slashed their arms, chests, and tails—marks that looked far too similar to what had been done to Nisha.
Then we reached the town square, and I discovered that the house where a party had been held the night before was now transformed.
Panels along the wall had been removed, so the interior was open to the elements.
A wooden throne—a heavily carved chair—had been moved to the edge so it could overlook the square.
In it, the Queen sat, more jewel-studded than any of the other females I’d seen.