I stared at the scars weaving the memory of unspeakable pain across his back.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked softly.
A rough shake of his head came.
“So you know that I have never forgotten you,” he rasped. “Not for a single day, a single moment.”
Except when I needed you most, came the sad thought, creeping into my head like poison, painful and slow. But the thought didn’t have its usual bite of fury. Only sadness. Only disappointment.
“I know it doesn’t matter much now,” he said. “I know your hatred of me is warranted. But I have always remembered. I wanted you to know that.”
Hatred? I wondered, my brow furrowing, a sharp pang resounding in my chest.
Had I ever hated him?
True, consuming, dark hatred?
Nik. Never.
Even when he was breaking my heart. Even when he didn’t say goodbye. Even when he’d turned his back on me.
I had felt betrayed by him, certainly. I had felt hurt by him. I had wished that I’d never met him on some particularly bad days.
But I had always realized that I was thankful for our friendship. There had been good there. Good that had come before the bad. Almost every good, happy memory I had growing up…they had always involved Kiran or my family.
“I don’t hate you, Kiran,” I told him softly, taking my blade in my hand, starting at the top stitch, popping it open with the sharp tip. “I never have.”
I just…can’t go back to how we were before, I finished quietly in my mind. It would break me.
Kiran didn’t reply to that. He said nothing as I finished taking the stitches from his back, inspecting the closed wound that would further scar his already scarred flesh.
I bit my lip, tearing my gaze away from one whipping lash that hadn’t scarred well. I washed the flesh, applied a fresh coat of uudun, and then bandaged it again.
“It will heal well,” I told him softly when I finished. “You can take the bandage off in the morning but keep uudun on it for another few days, lysi?”
I fished a pot of the salve from my satchel and set it on the low table, next to the almost-empty platters of his evening meal.
He inclined his head. Then he asked, “Are you settling in well? Do you need any further supplies for the mokkira’s voliki?”
I was surprised he’d asked but I shook my head, meeting his gaze when I stepped around him, looping my satchel over my shoulder.
“I have everything I need,” I told him.
Kiran stood to his full height and I had to crane my neck back to keep his gaze. He looked even more massive with most of his clothes off and I tried to hide how hard I swallowed at that realization.
“Actually, there is something,” I said quickly, remembering.
“Lysi?” he grunted, stepping around the table until we were standing within arm’s reach of one another.
“I need a thesper,” I told him.
He frowned. “You wish to send a message to the saruk?”
“Nik,” I said. “I need to send a message to the horde of Rath Kitala. And hopefully to Rath Tuviri as well.”
“Why?”
“I met one of the human females today,” I said softly, lowering my gaze to the notch of his golden throat. “The pregnant female.”
Kiran inclined his head. “Addie.”
“Lysi,” I said. “Since her child is both Dakkari and human, I was hoping to correspond with the healers of both hordes, since I know they’ve had experience with delivering hybrid offspring.”
Kiran’s jaw tightened. “There are no thespers available for your use at present, seffi. We have two only. One has not returned from the horde of Rath Drokka and I just sent one last night to Rath Kitala.”
I blew out a breath. “She is due within a moon cycle. And I fear the child is in the wrong position. I need a thesper.”
“And we have none,” he rasped. “I am sorry, seffi. Until one of the thespers returns, your message will have to wait.”
I was afraid it couldn’t.
“Then I need to travel to one of the hordes myself,” I told him. “Which one is closest?”
“You will do no such thing,” he growled, those eyes sparking. “I forbid it.”
My shoulders went back and I lifted my chin. “Why?”
“I should not have to tell you that, rei mokkira,” he said, his tone unyielding. “You have a responsibility here. The frost comes soon and there is much to be done. Not to mention the fact that the wild lands have become unpredictable. You have seen firsthand how