Chapter 21
Voss
“Iwarned you,” I snarled, holding the harrsh’ak by the throat, my arm sticking out through the broken window pane. “I said you’re not welcome here!”
He struggled, but I didn’t loosen my grip. Fury coursed through my blood, because I saw how the blasted creature looked at Alina through the window, his tongue lolling out in hunger, his four eyes reddening with the hunting urge.
That was the one blessing when it came to the harrsh’ak. One could always tell their intentions by the color of their eyes, and this one was about to hunt.
Hunt my wife.
Now he stared at me with bulging eyes, green from terror. He made screechy, half-choked sounds. I tightened my hold more and more, suddenly deciding I wouldn’t be merciful. I wouldn’t kill him with my eyes.
He would suffocate, and I would make it plain why.
“You made a grave mistake,” I hissed, my tongue lashing out. “You came to my home and looked at my wife like she was food. You’ll die for this, and your body will be a warning to all your brothers and sisters out there. Stay off of my land. And never touch what’s mine.”
The harrsh’ak was silent, his struggles weakening. A few moments later, he slumped in my hold. I kept choking him to make sure the last flickers of life left his body. When he was dead, I dropped him to the ground. He would be visible right by the wall of the house, a clear, obvious warning.
Good.
That done, I could finally focus on Alina. She was at my feet, hugging herself and whimpering, broken glass in her hair. I crouched by her side, my voice lowering into the soothing tone of the mating call.
“You’re safe now, my love. I protected you, just like I said I would. Like I always will. The danger is gone. I killed him, as I will kill everyone who tries to hurt you.”
I reached out to pluck the glass out of her hair, but she shied away with a guttural sound. She was shaking and breathing hard, making small, terrified noises in the back of her throat.
For a moment, I couldn’t understand what was wrong. I protected her and she was safe. So why didn’t she let me comfort her?
When Alina curled in on herself, as if trying to put distance between us without moving away, a slow, awful understanding dawned. I should have known. After everything she went through, after how she reacted to me killing the man who hurt her, I should have learned my lesson.
She was terrified of violence. And of course she was. Wounds like hers didn’t go away in a week or even a month. She needed time.
And I should have known better.
“I’m sorry, ssalamiya,” I said, moving away to give her space. I kept my voice low and soothing. “I didn’t stop to think how it might affect you, I just followed my instincts. I’m sorry I frightened you. There was time to tell you to move away, to warn you so you wouldn’t be scared, but I acted immediately. You were in danger, and I wanted to destroy the threat. I’m sorry. Could you please look at me?”
She calmed gradually as I spoke, her whimpers silencing, her shivering growing less violent. Finally, she raised her head, a piece of glass falling off with the movement. Her eyes were wide and fearful, but she was lucid. No longer locked in the cage of terror.
“Good. You’re doing very well,” I praised her, letting the cadence of the mating call do the work. It didn’t matter much what I said as long as it was soothing and calm. “Now, there is broken glass around you and in your hair. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry. Will you allow me to pick you up and move you to a clean part of the floor?”
She swallowed, cleared her throat, and finally spoke. “Yes. Okay.”
I moved slowly, giving her ample time to prepare for everything I was going to do. Gently, I pulled her up by her armpits, which was the safest way to move her, and turned with her in my arms, putting her down with care. I kept my hands on her, holding her eyes trapped in my gaze.
“Perfect. Will you let me clean the glass from your hair?”
She blinked and then took a step back and out of my hold, lowering her head, so her hair hung down. The remaining glass tinkled to the floor, and she shook her hair out. When no more fell, she straightened and shook herself off.
“Is it all gone?” she asked, her voice sounding calm and inflectionless.
I inspected her hair and clothes, finally nodding. “Yes. Wait, I’ll move you again so you don’t step in it.”
I picked her up and moved her further away from the window. She was limp in my hold, and when I looked at her now, she avoided my eyes.
“It’s late,” she said in the same numb tone of voice. “I’ll go to bed if that’s okay.”
My heart squeezed with her rejection, because there was no doubt what she meant—that she wanted to sleep alone. I silenced the voice of despair in my head, reminding myself she needed time, and by gods, I would give it to her. I would give her anything.
“Yes, of course. Can I check your room first? I’ll stay up to make sure no more harrsh’ak come. They can’t climb walls, but I want to make absolutely certain you’re safe.”
She nodded and turned to go upstairs. I followed her, feeling miserable and furious with myself. It felt like I’d set our entire progress back, and just when I thought I had her for good.
Alina’s bedroom was safe, nothing lurking inside or outside her window. I told her as much, bidding her good night before I left. When the door closed and the lock clicked into place, my heart thudded with grief.
So she didn’t trust me. She locked the door again, just like she did in the beginning. It felt like we were back to square one, and suddenly, I was terrified she would leave me.
No jumping to conclusions. Give her time.
At least we were mated now, so I didn’t have to spend the night on the floor by her door, breathing in her scent like an addict. But I wasn’t going to sleep. The harrsh’ak had intended to attack my wife in my home, and that didn’t bode well. The creatures used to be far more respectful in the past. I had to stay vigilant and protect Alina until I figured out what made them so bold, and how to fix it.
I cleaned up the shattered glass. The broken window let in the warm night air and the sounds of the jungle. My hearing was sharp, and I was confident if anything crept up to the house, I’d hear it.
Now, I just had to stay up until morning and listen. My eyes fell on the shelf with the books I bought when I applied to the temple. These were all titles from their recommended reading list for the prospective grooms who couldn’t attend the official course. The books, just like the course, were optional.
I read some of these with great attention, like The Short Compendium of Human Anatomy and The Art of Pleasing Your Bride. The people running the temples were very serious about matchmaking the best possible marriages and quite thorough in providing useful information.
There were a few books, however, which I hadn’t read, and now I picked one up.
Helping Your Partner Through Trauma.
I settled in and started reading in the light of a kerosene lamp, my ears perking up to catch any potential intruders.
Somewhere around four, when it was still dark, the air cooling before dawn, I heard a faint rustling coming closer. The scent of living harrsh’ak followed soon after. I closed my book and looked out through the window.
Two harrsh’ak males were dragging their dead friend away. “You can take your dead,” I said, making them flinch and tense, their eyes flying up and instantly to the ground in fear of my gaze. “If I see any of your people on my land again, I’ll kill them, and those who come for the bodies, too. This is your last warning.”
The harrsh’ak screeched and pulled the body away, their movements nervous, short tails twitching madly. They kept licking their eyeballs, all colored green with terror.
Good. Hopefully, that problem was now solved.
An unpleasant shiver went down my back to the very tip of my tail when I looked at the jagged glass sticking out of the window frame and the trees and vines just outside, waiting to slither in and claim this part of the house, as well.
After all, the ruination of the other wing started with a broken window, too. And now, the same thing was happening here, at my hand. I couldn’t shake the feeling this was the beginning of the end.
Everything was falling apart.