“Always,” he said roughly. “But she takes care of herself now. I only have the honor of standing near while she does it.”
Something eased in Tess’s face at that—some last suspicion, finally satisfied. She nodded once, sharply, the way she did when a thing was settled. Then Glasach called her name from the ramp, and Kamat held out one long marbled hand, and Tess Baker squared her sturdy shoulders, drew a breath, and walked up into the belly of the ship without looking back.
They stayed to watch her go.
The ramp folded up with a shriek of old hydraulics. The freighter’s engines woke slowly and then turned loud, spitting steam and melting the churned snow to black slush in awidening ring, and he drew Polly back against his chest and wrapped both arms around her, shielding her small warm body from the wind and the roar. She leaned into him without a flicker of hesitation, both her hands coming up to rest on his forearms, and together they watched Glasach’s ugly, honest, ungainly boat lift off the field, climb through the low grey sky, and dwindle to a point, and then to nothing.
One human female, gone from Hothrest by her own free choice.
The other, standing warm in the circle of his arms, staying because of hers.
For a while neither of them spoke. The wind moaned across the empty field, and the braziers of the market hissed and popped somewhere behind them, and the sky where the ship had been was just sky again, grey and vast and cold.
Then Polly turned in his arms, cheeks red from the cold, grey eyes bright.
“Njkall.”
“Mm?”
She rose on her toes and kissed the underside of his jaw.
“Take me home.”
EPILOGUE
Even through her closed eyelids, Polly could tell that daylight had begun creeping into the sleeping cave, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she screwed her eyes more tightly shut and burrowed deeper into her pillow—her big, warm, breathing pillow.
A deep rumble vibrated beneath her cheek.
“I know you’re awake, little one.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m your mate now. You have to believe me.”
“I do not think that is how this works.”
She smiled against his chest and opened one eye.
Njkall was watching her, his bright blue eyes warm with amusement, his white mane tousled from sleep. She still loved seeing him like this. The rest of Hothrest knew the stern clan leader who could silence a room with one look. She knew themale who snored—although he continued to deny it—and who invariably woke with his mane sticking up on one side.
She reached up and smoothed it down. It sprang back up.
“Very dignified,” she said.
“I am always dignified.”
“Of course.”
His eyes narrowed. “You are mocking your clan leader.”
“I would never.”
“Your mate, then.”
“That I do constantly.”
