Hannah's Hero - Ruby Dixon Page 0,14

the bodies piled in normally keep it warm enough for pleasant sleep. Tonight it’s just insufferably cold, though, and I slip my boots on and head onto the beach. It’s the middle of the night and the main fire is low, though; the only person sitting by it is N’dek.

I don’t want to talk to him. Not really. He’s probably the only person here that’s lost more than I have, and we’d just be terrible company. I hug my furs tighter to my body, because it’s too chilly to stay out here in the dark without warmth of some kind, or at least shelter from the biting wind.

Maybe I’ll go start my morning count early. That’ll get me out of my head at least, and in the supply tent, I can have a nice cry all by myself and not wake anyone else up. Swiping at the tears that threaten to freeze to my cheeks, I cross through the maze of tents and head for the one at the back of the encampment, the one with the stored food inside it.

Once inside, I see the rows of baskets, carefully lidded and raised off the ground so nothing can crawl into them, and all of the strength in my body seems to disappear. I sag to the ground, huddling in my furs, and begin to weep. Hard, miserable sobs erupt from me, and I do my best to muffle them behind a hand, because even now there are people nearby and there’s no true privacy. But I need to cry. To let it all out.

Maybe someday it’ll stop hurting, the loss of one’s hopes and dreams, but for now, it still feels like an open wound and it aches. So I let myself have a good cry.

The baskets to my side move. I jerk back, a scream building in my throat as the shadows surge forward.

“Shhh, H’nah,” J’shel murmurs, one of his many hands covering my mouth. “It is me.”

4

J’SHEL

K’thar and L’ren were right after all.

H’nah came to me.

I could not sleep this night, so I paced around the camp, listening to the miserable, lonely song of my khui as it called for a mate that would not answer. My need for her became so great I considered camouflaging and sneaking into the cave where the humans sleep, all so that I could gaze at her, but they would not like that.

Plus, camouflaging like that would mean I would need to be naked, and if they saw that, they would really be upset.

So I turned to the tent with the food supplies, where H’nah spends much of every morning, counting things that are impossible to count. Here, I would at least be able to drink in the remnants of her scent.

I did not expect her to stumble in during the night. I immediately camouflaged, blending into the shadows, and H’nah did not see me. I devoured the sight of her…until she began to cry.

Her tears wound me, because I cannot help them. I cannot remain hidden in the shadows, either, so I step out and move to her side.

She did not smell me or see me, it seems, nor did she notice the insistent song of her khui humming loudly in her breast. She is startled, a scream rising in her throat.

I immediately crouch behind her and cover her mouth with a hand, pressing her soft body against me. My forest instincts kick in—loud noises draw predators and must be muffled. We are no longer in the forest, I remember a moment later, but I do not let her go.

I cannot.

My body feels as if it is coming to life with the brush of her against me. I hold her close, one hand over her mouth, and another slides around her waist, supporting her even as she sags against me. Our khuis sing in unison, the song so loud I feel as if the nearby baskets will shake, but I do not care. All I care about is that soft, gentle H’nah is in my arms after so long. I bury my face against her neck, breathing in her perfect, sweet scent. “Do not cry,” I whisper against her skin, and it takes all of my strength not to lick her throat and taste her.

I can feel her quivering, her body heaving as she struggles to bite back her cries. She does not fight against me, but she does not lean into me, either. Her soft mane brushes against my face