I watch as he approaches, moving with speed, and then his steps slow the closer he gets to the temple. He regards my surroundings with a grim expression, and that grim expression turns to dismay as he sees the wolves. I could swear that he pales underneath his sun-kissed tan, and that worries me.
"Are you okay?" I call out. "Will they hurt you?"
"They will not," he says, voice oddly stilted as he takes a step into the temple, toward me. "They are sending me a message." He gazes at the nearest one for so long that I worry he's been put under a spell of some kind. I try to move toward him, but one of the wolves blocks me, moving subtly into my path. It's clear that they want him to come to me and not the other way around. He tears his gaze away from the wolves and focuses on me. His expression darkens at the sight of my bloody arm. "They hurt you?"
Something about this feels off. Odd. They could have torn me to shreds a dozen times over but all they did was force me to put down the belt I was using as a weapon. "I'm a little banged up, but I'm all right. Are you okay?"
He looks awfully pale, his expression tight as he moves to my side and runs his hands over my bare arms, frowning at my scratches and especially at the bite on my arm. "I don't like this."
"It'll heal. I don't think they were trying to hurt me. Just scare me."
Kassam continues to touch me all over, as if he has to determine for himself that I truly am all right. His mouth remains a flat, unhappy line, and when he's satisfied that I'm not in danger, he pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me, tucking me against his chest.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I manage.
"I am hugging you. You like hugs. Now hush."
I'm not sure if I'm the one that needs comforting right now or if it's him. Kassam continues to hold me tight, his chin resting atop my head as he strokes my head and then my back. Leaves and debris rain out of my shoulder-length hair, and I can only imagine how rough I look right now. He's right, though—the hug does feel good. It's soothing some deep, worried kernel deep inside me. "Thank you for coming after me."
"I will always come after you," he vows, surprisingly fervent.
"Right, because of the bond."
"Because you belong to me," Kassam corrects. "You are my wife."
I'd forgotten.
He is quiet for a long moment and then says, in a ragged voice, "This is one of my temples."
"I noticed."
"The offerings…" He turns his head slightly, his chin rubbing against the top of my head, and I know he's gazing at the altar. "They came here. They prayed to me even when I was gone, and it did them no good. They still hoped I would be here to answer them, and I could not." His grip tightens on me as he squeezes me against him. "I am feeling grief again, Carly, and I do not like it. How do I make it stop?"
"You can't," I say softly. "The only thing you can do is learn how to live with it. To find enough pleasure in other things that it takes the edge off the grief."
"I do not like it," he says again, his voice rough as he holds me even tighter. "A god cursed with hedonism should not have to feel grief."
It's my turn to comfort. We're still hugging, so I rub his back gently and snuggle against his chest. He smells like the woods, earthy and full of fresh air and grass, and I find it instantly soothing. "I think part of the reason you're here is so you do feel those things," I point out. "So you learn what it's like to care."
He grunts. When I pull back to look up at him, his gaze is glued to that altar. "I wonder how long it took for them to realize they had been abandoned."
"Don't think like that," I protest. "You're not being fair to yourself. It's not as if you planned for Riekki to betray you. You're not to blame for your followers leaving."
He frowns down at me, and his gaze goes to my arm. He gently takes my wrist in his grip and shakes his head. "And I am so powerless I cannot even heal this. Truly, the High Father aims to humble his sons." Kassam rubs his thumb over the inside of my wrist. "Does it pain you much?"
"It's okay," I say, deciding not to go into too much detail. I don't want him feeling worse than he already does. "Give it a day and it'll feel good as new." Unless I contract rabies, but I decide not to point that out.