Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
"Last one," I agree, meeting his gaze.
"You're not thinking of ways to stall?"
I shake my head. "I'm tired." I mean it, too. All of this is no longer challenging, no longer fun. There's no longer an exciting edge to it. Now it's just...exhausting. "We'll make sure you're recovered, and then we'll do the last task. And... I guess, whatever else comes after that."
His thumb claw strokes lightly over my skin again. "What's the task?"
The one I've been putting off for weeks now. "You can help me take Makana home."
"You're not going to keep him?"
"Of course not. I'm just his hānai."
"His what?"
Right. It's another one of those strange words that slips out of me and feels so natural. "His guardian. I'll look after him, but if he wants to be free, it would be cruel for me to keep him. I want him to live his best life, even if it's not with me."
"You wouldn't hold him even if you love him?" he muses, and he still doesn't let go of my wrist. "You and I are very different creatures."
Hearing that should not fill me with warmth the way it does.
CHAPTER 12
VALMIR
Something with April is off.
When she first assigned this latest task, she was her normal self. She established what she wanted — a specific mountain plant, roots and all, brought back to her alive — and I agreed. Then we'd fallen into her furs, arguing even as we touched each other. I made her come, she jerked my cock, and I left feeling pleased over our usual push-pull.
Things were fine.
Then I fell into Corvak's pit and found him and Aidy. Or rather, they found me. They're very different from myself and April. From the beginning, they've been a unified team. Every decision they made, they chose together. They support each other endlessly. They are of one mind on everything. As people go, they're tolerable enough. Aidy is sweet and kind, and Corvak is a decent warrior who just wants to protect his female. But as far as couples go...
They're boring.
Is that what mating is supposed to be like? Is that why April has been fighting this so hard? If so, I get it. I'd much rather have her arguing with me or teasing me and calling me "pussycat" even though she knows it irks me. I like that April is unexpected and difficult to please. Our arguments arouse me as much as they fill me with pleasure.
If resonance means we will never have another heated discussion between us that leads to frantic, angry touches followed by an equally frantic orgasm, then I am glad we have waited for so long.
It's just that...the sass I appreciate in April has dried up.
She came and found me in the mountains, which told me she was worried about me. I enjoyed that realization. No, I loved that realization. She tries so hard to pretend like she doesn't care, but she was the first one to offer me a shoulder if my ankle hurt, and she always had hot tea at hand to give me. And sharp, teasing word to go with the hot tea, but that is how April and I communicate. Sharp words tell me that she sees me, that she's not just trotting out whatever she thinks I want to hear.
Yet ever since I returned to the village, April has been nice.
I don't trust it.
There are no arguments, no hot retorts, no insults, no calling me "pussycat."
Yesterday while I laid around in the healer's tent, my ankle propped up, April brought me food. She asked me what I wanted as a meal so she could have it prepared for me. She offered to make me special tea and bring me my favorite pillow.
It's downright suspicious.
I watch with a skeptical gaze as April appears again today. She gives me a bright smile, as if I am a child in need of encouragement. "How are we feeling?"
"If I was feeling fine, I wouldn't be at the healer's tent with my foot on a pillow, would I?" I retort, trying to get a rise out of her.
"Good point." She continues to smile, not taking the bait. "Have you tried walking on your bad leg yet?"
"No, I thought I'd lie here in the healer's tent until my flesh rotted away."
"Sounds dull," April tells me in a cheerful voice. "Well, if you want, I could help you walk over to the main fire. Gail is making dinner tonight and her stew is always excellent. You like her food."
"You can bring me some."
"No, I think we should join the group," she says again, voice firm.
"I disagree." Now disagree with me. Start an argument that shows me your fiery personality.
She keeps smiling, but I sense a vague disappointment in her, as if I have been given a trial and failed. That is more frustrating than anything — I am being tested on something that has no rules, and I do not know how to respond. I need keffing guidelines.