He does not realize that D’see wants more than just a pleasure-mating. That she wants to force our khuis to resonate to one another, since resonance has not claimed us. And yet…I find that is not what makes me pause. The thought of resonating to F’lor or even T’ia makes me blanch. After touching D’see, I want no one else.
So why do I hesitate? I glance over at Juth, a knot in my throat. I think of how every morning, I awoke to see my mother staring out at the sea, and I knew she was thinking of Juth. Of how sad she was, even when my father enticed her to smile. I am afraid of having an outcast child myself and having the clan treat it differently. I am afraid that D’see will resonate to another despite our efforts and I will lose her. I am afraid that our child will not be strong enough without resonance to create them.
I am…afraid.
The realization is a sobering one. “I am afraid of losing D’see,” I admit. “I do not like being vulnerable, and when I am with her, I feel as if my chest is laid open and she could pluck my heart out at her whim.”
Juth eyes me. “You are losing her anyhow. Would it not be better to have her for a time—even a short time—and to have that happiness? If you push her away, you are sacrificing that. We cannot predict the future.” He gestures at the rolling waves. “There is a storm brewing. The clouds look angry. Tomorrow, the storm may be so great that the waves overtake the shore and drown us all. No one can say what the next day will bring. Best to enjoy today.”
I stare at him in vague horror, my mind full of crashing waves and screams of the drowning. “Is that supposed to cheer me up?”
“No.” He elbows me. “It is supposed to get you moving.”
“It just makes me want to move inland,” I grumble, but I get to my feet. It does look like a storm, and I like the idea of an evening alone with D’see, curled up near the furs, and burying my face against her neck. Breathing in her scent. Holding her close.
Making plans for a future together.
I look over at R’jaal. He wears his loneliness like a cloak, his eyes full of sadness. Juth is more settled, but he has two kits and a pretty mate. If anything, he should be terrified. “You do not worry about losing S’teph or Jethani?”
“Of course I do.” He gets to his feet as well, dusting sand off his leathers. “All those with a family live with a fear that they will come to harm. And if I lost them tomorrow, I would be devastated. I would walk into the waves and let the seas take me. But I would have had these happy times with them.” His eyes grow bright. “And the happy times are worth everything.”
I grunt. Perhaps he is right. I have lost so much in my life it has made me afraid to take happiness for myself in case it happens again. And yet…U’dron has lived through the same losses and he is not afraid to love his mate. A’tam, too. Perhaps they did not lose a brother to the outcast clan, but it does not make their losses less important than mine.
D’see has lost everything twice, and she yet reaches for the future. She is far braver than me.
D’see.
With her in mind, I leave the two hunters behind and head for Icehome Beach.
CHAPTER 29
DAISY
After O’jek leaves, I’m restless and upset. I feel like crying, but that won’t solve anything. I wash up with melted water, stoke my fire—a fire he didn’t even notice, which frustrates me—and then I straighten up the hut. I consider going back out to work with Angie and Elly some more, because there’s still time before the sun goes down, but the thought of sitting with them as if nothing has happened bothers me.
I want to get away. I don’t want anyone asking questions. I want to be alone with my thoughts so I can think. And when I emerge from the hut and see Raven and U’dron settling their little skiff on the shore, I have the perfect idea as to how.
“Can I take this for a while?” I ask, stopping them before they haul it up the beach. I hold my hand out for Raven’s paddle. It’s a bastardized combination of bone framing with a driftwood handle, and the “paddle” portion is a flattened, thin disc of wood that’s been tied on. I’ve been fishing with them several times in the last month and I actually enjoy the raft. It’s long and narrow, just wide enough to sit on and long enough so the waves won’t flip it. There’s even a lightweight, twisted log on the side that Raven calls an “outrigger” to help it balance. I’ve never taken the entire thing out on my own, but today’s a good day to start.