Rounded ears. Whites in her eyes around the irises. A slim nose that gave way to lips that were like my own. A similar softened face shape, unlike the sharpness of Dakkari features.
And her build was like my own, save for her pregnancy. We were almost the same height. I was only ever the same height as Dakkari females when they had not yet gone through their final growth.
And the male…
The dark-haired human male was taller than I was, a little broader. But he didn’t possess the sheer strength of Dakkari males, with their wide chests, thick thighs, and towering builds.
We all stood staring at one another, silence stretching between us. I began to shift on my feet when the male laughed, husky and deep, surprising me with its richness.
His eyes were bright and amused when he asked, “You’ve never seen other humans before, have you?”
I blinked. Addie slapped the back of her hand across his abdomen, making him wheeze out a rough breath. Though her own gaze was curious.
“Nik,” I murmured. I cleared my throat. “No. I have not.”
Gabe cocked his head to the side. Unlike Dakkari males, his hair was cut short to his scalp. It was only long enough to curl around his ears.
“Where did you come from?” he wondered.
“If you speak of a human village,” I started, the words strange on my tongue, “then I am not certain. I was found in a forest when I was young. My home is the saruk of Rath Okkili. By Drukkar’s Sea. That is where I was raised.”
“So…you grew up among the Dakkari?” Addie asked. “Truly?”
“Lysi.”
“Wow,” she rasped but I didn’t understand that word’s meaning. Kiran’s lomma hadn’t taught me that one. Though I guessed it was a kind of exclamation, given her widened eyes. “That’s…surprising.”
I caught motion out of the corner of my eye and saw that Essir was eavesdropping on our conversation, though I wasn’t certain he knew the universal tongue.
In Dakkari, with a raised brow I asked him, “Has the uudun begun to separate yet?”
His expression turned sheepish and he scuttled back into the darkened area. I heard, “Nik, mokkira. Soon.”
I turned my attention back on Addie when she asked, “What is your name?”
I hesitated, thinking of Essir in earshot, and how I quite liked him calling me mokkira. That seemed like a silly, selfish thing though.
“Or,” she started, her expression dropping slightly, embarrassed, “do you not wish for us to have your name? I’m sorry, I forget sometimes, even though my husband always—”
“It’s all right,” I said. “My name is Maeva.”
“Maeva,” she repeated, her embarrassment turning into a pleased, shy expression. “It’s nice to meet you.”
My eyes went to Gabe. I felt a strange flush threaten to crawl up my neck when I saw his eyes flickering over me, dragging over my shoulders, my breasts, my hips, my legs, my feet, before he met my eyes. He didn’t seem embarrassed to be caught. Instead, he gave me a wide, teasing grin that made me freeze. That made me swallow hard. Because it reminded me entirely too much of Kiran’s. All confidence and charm.
Nik.
Averting my gaze to Addie, in an effort to distract myself, I asked, “Will you come lie on the table since you are here? I would like to check the child.”
Addie bit her lip but nodded, waddling over to the steel table. It was quite high up for her but Gabe assisted her before he retreated back towards the entrance, giving us space.
Just then another shaft of light entered the voliki. Hinna returned, seeming startled by the presence of the two newcomers before her expression smoothed. She came to me. In Dakkari, she said, “The Vorakkar is meeting with his council. He told me that he will come when he is able to.”
I nodded, relief sizzling through me, which made me ashamed. I didn’t want to be a coward when it came to Kiran…but last night was still swimming in my mind and I didn’t know if I had recomposed myself quite yet. I didn’t know if I was ready to see him again so soon.
Hinna retreated back to her place on the floor cushion, next to a stretch of cabinets that I’d organized my medicines, potions, tonics, and ingredients in.
Placing my hands on Addie’s growing belly, I pressed, feeling for her organs and anything abnormal.
“When did you learn of the pregnancy?” I asked, concentrating closely, looking at the steel of the table.
“About three moon cycles ago,” she said. “I think. I don’t