The Vow (Black Arrowhead #1) - Dannika Dark Page 0,60
son with hatred in her heart. When a child is murdered, all a mother seeks is justice. They will never have understanding or peace, so they look for someone to blame. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been the storm. Or perhaps something else.”
“Tell her thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. Sorry seemed like an inadequate word for the tremendous loss of a child.
Shikoba glanced around the cabin. “You’re safe here. The lights in the house will stay on so it looks occupied. Don’t step outside,” he cautioned. “And don’t let your wolf out.”
“I know. Tak filled me in.”
His eyes drifted upward. “A clear sky means Koi will have a good journey.”
“You don’t think he’s already gone where he needs to go?”
“He’s with his mother now. His spirit is trying to comfort her. It is our way of showing respect to the living when we die.”
I set the basket down. “Safe journey.”
Shikoba nodded, and I closed the door as he walked away.
“Melody? Wake up, lazybones.”
I squinted, my vision blurred in the darkness as I tried to make sense of the shadow looming over me. “Lakota?” I eased up on my elbows. “What time is it?”
“After dark. My wolf went for a long run. The funeral is probably underway now, so I came back to check on you. I didn’t see the lights on and thought you might have taken off.”
I chuckled softly. “There’s no electricity, so I lit a few candles. I just closed my eyes for a minute.”
“You fell asleep with the window open,” he said gruffly. Lakota stepped away and lit a second candle. “The wind must have blown out the candles.”
Yawning, I stretched my sore muscles. “I thought you changed your mind and went with them.”
He set the yellow candle on the windowsill and closed the shutters. “I’m not family. I knew Koi, but it would confuse his spirit to see me. Especially if he saw the truth of why I’m here.”
I sat up, my feet touching the floor. “You don’t really believe all that, do you?”
He knelt before the fireplace and lit a third candle, then a fourth. “Why shouldn’t I? Both sides of my family tell many stories, and I compare them to what I’ve heard from elders on some of my travels. There’s got to be some truth to it. The spirit goes somewhere. Can you imagine how hard it would be to leave behind your family? You’ve heard of Gravewalkers. They can see the dead.” He stood up and placed a fifth candle on the mantel. “Maybe seeing strangers would confuse your spirit and make you stay and protect your family. If that’s even a remote possibility, I don’t want to damn Koi’s spirit to limbo.”
“I’m going to stay and haunt you, Lakota Cross.”
He turned on his heel, his eyes sharp. “Don’t say things like that.”
My stomach fluttered. “I’m just kidding.”
Looking at Lakota in a pair of jeans reminded me that I still had on my towel.
“Here.” He tossed me a pile of fabric. “It was outside your door along with two bottles of water.”
I lifted the lightweight material. Someone had left me a brown nightshirt that reached my knees. It had a V-neck collar with crisscross laces. While Lakota lit a few more candles, I pulled the shirt over my head and stood up, the towel dropping to the floor. “Fits perfect. I feel so guilty that they did all this for me.”
“Did what?”
I gestured to the basket. “They also brought me food.”
Curiosity flickered in his eyes. “You must have made an impression on them.”
I decided not to mention the necklace. “You can eat if you’re hungry. I don’t mind.”
“You didn’t eat?” He lifted the basket and then sat in front of the hearth, placing everything on the rug. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Flatbread, peppers, tomatoes, butter, jerky, blueberries, a slice of pie—most of this was harvested on their land. Except for maybe the pie. The elders don’t trust what humans are selling these days; it’s not natural. A lot of indigenous human tribes have gotten diseases since they began eating processed food. Obviously that won’t affect Shifters, but they prefer to live off the land as much as possible. Did you see their garden on the west side of the property?”
I shook my head.
“It’s big. I’d like to have something like that someday.” Lakota drew up one knee and folded a piece of bread. “I should light a fire.”