Chapter 33 #4
Beneath them, she heard rustling through the forest, the impact against the ground working its way up the trees and into the wood under her cheek. She tried to pick the sounds apart, determine how many there were, but there were so many that she couldn’t tell a number.
She heard Pyetar let out a shuddered breath. They both held as still as they could, listening as the soft pounding got closer, until she heard the snapping of branches and give of needles beneath them. As the sounds moved further away.
It felt like the rest of the evening had passed, but eventually the forest was full of normal sounds again, the sky now a blanket of night. When an owl hoo’d nearby, she almost cried in relief.
“We’re in the clear for now.”
The unexpected sound made Iryana jerk her head around.
“Is it safe to talk?” She kept her voice as low as she could.
“With the wind up here and all the leaves and needles between us and the ground, it’s safe. At least if they’re not nearby.”
Pyetar was watching her, his gaze tracing her jaw, across her nose, through her hair. The look almost felt like a touch, and Iryana shifted, scooting and turning awkwardly until she was sitting.
“We are lucky this was here,” she whispered back.
With a shrug, Pyetar admitted, “I have an entire network of these picked out. I travel between them, making sure I always know which one is closest for exactly this purpose. It isn’t always possible to get to one, but usually…” he trailed off.
“What’s the plan for tonight?”
“We didn’t quite make it to where I’d planned for us to sleep, but we will have to stay up here until dawn.” He looked awkwardly around their close quarters.
“Aren’t there fewer dakii out at night?”
“Exactly. Which means they’re easier to hear coming when the sun is up. One lone dakya is easier to miss. And with so many dakii out here, there will always be a sleeping pack nearby that would be alerted if a beast found us.”
“That makes sense,” she admitted. “Have you come across a sleeping pack before?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He grimaced. “They sleep beneath trees and bushes, curled up on the leaves as if they are just huge wolves. I have never seen a dakya den though.”
Iryana thought about that. “I don’t know anyone who has.”
“By this time of year, wolves have had their pups, so they’re staying in dens right now with their young litters. Bears are just mating, though. I wonder which the dakii are like.”
“I have never seen a baby dakya,” she said slowly.
“Neither have I, but surely they keep them protected in dens, like other large predators.”
“I have seen wolf pups and bear cubs before, plenty of times.”
“What are you saying?” he looked at her curiously, seeming to be more relaxed. Like the conversation was a welcome distraction.
“The dakii definitely grow, get older. The older ones in the pack teach the younger ones, which start with the nubs of a first set of horns.”
Pyetar frowned. “Sure. What’s your point?”
“I don’t know if they have babies.”
“But then how are they multiplying?”
Iryana shrugged. “It’s just a theory. But they came out of nowhere, and they aren’t animals. Not really. They’re creatures. And we’ve never seen a baby, never seen a den.”
“That’s an unsettling thought.”
“It is.”
Iryana couldn’t sleep once the sun slipped away and left them lying beneath the stars. Pyetar’s body beside hers was too warm, the sound of his breathing too loud. She couldn’t forget he was there, forget the way he had kissed her.
A crashing sound came from below, and Iryana tensed. But she could still hear the sounds of small critters moving around in the trees and on the ground.
She felt Pyetar jerk beside her; the noise had likely woken him.
Pyetar rose onto his elbows, turned toward her, a concerned look of confusion on his face. Twisting, he leaned over her so he could see more of the forest below.
His elbow pressed against her arm, his chest hovering over hers. His face was turned away, trained on the forest floor, but it was so close to hers. With the slightest shift, he would be on top of her.
Iryana shut her eyes tightly and tried to keep her breathing even. Still, her body was tense in anticipation. The slightest shifts of his body as he surveyed the forest around them sent waves of awareness through her.
She could hardly think, hardly breathe through the want inside her. Gods, she needed to get away from him.
“It’s all good,” he said with relief. Iryana opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. “It was just—” he cut off abruptly as he turned to look down at her, their faces nearly touching.
She was so aware of her lips that they almost felt like they were faintly vibrating. Her body clenched involuntarily, making her breaths shallow.
Pyetar was watching her so intensely, watching her mouth. His eyes hooded.
If she didn’t move, didn’t say something, would he kiss her? She shivered, and his lips parted at the sight. She wanted to forget all reason; she wanted to feel the weight of his body on hers. She wanted him to kiss her skin. Her neck, her shoulders.
“We can’t,” she gasped.
“I know, but don’t you wish we could?” His brow pulled together in the middle, and he looked almost confused, like he was trying to remember exactly why they couldn’t.
Her breathing was erratic; her mind was spinning. He’d been horrified when they kissed, and avoided her like she was diseased afterwards.
“If my brother found out…” Pyetar grimaced a little, though his gaze was still heavy on her. On her mouth.
“That would be… bad.” She knew how possessive Karvek was. How controlling.
“He wouldn’t kill me; he hasn’t before. But he might think you’re more loyal to me and decide you aren’t useful to him anymore.” His voice was tight. “He gets rid of things that aren’t useful.”
“You’re afraid of losing someone again,” she realized. “To feel that guilt.” It was about him, not about her.
“And you’re not?”
She was struggling to ignore his breath on her mouth. “It’s not an option for me. One day—without Karvek—your life could be whatever you want.”
Pyetar frowned, his forehead creasing. “You say that as if it’s a certainty that I will escape my brother. I have tried countless times, and I have failed every time. He’s always found me and dealt with those who helped me. I am tired of seeing other people get hurt.”
With that, Pyetar leaned even closer, his mouth so close to hers. She couldn’t help but let her eyes flutter shut. But the fear in her gut was strong enough that she didn’t forget it this time.
“Even if the Kleesolds survive this, keep their post, this wouldn’t be possible for me. Nothing like this would ever be possible for me. My life will be what it always was.”
“Being alone?”
“Being as close as I can,” she admitted. But with everything she had already done, everything she would surely still do, Iryana realized it might be too late for that. “I may have to leave the post for good. I may not be welcome there after all this.”
Pyetar was quiet, the sounds of the forest dancing around them, until Iryana eventually opened her eyes. He seemed to look through her, consumed entirely by his thoughts.
With a blink, his stare focused on her again.
His body tensed, and she could see the intention in his eyes. He had decided on recklessness.