Page 48

He can want my mouth. He can get hard kneeling at my feet. He can look at me while I’m undressed and forget what he’s doing with a piece of linen. Then he gets close enough, and he remembers what he’s touching.

There’s no wolf under my skin.

I rub the inside of my wrist where he held it. I used to catch scents there after touching someone, clear enough to know who I’d spent the morning with. Now I lift it to my nose and get a little smoke.

He’d know before he touched me. Every breath would tell him.

I lower my hand.

Of course he stops. I keep shoving what’s left of me at him and asking him to want it.

I turn toward the pallet and catch the loose end of a foot wrap beneath my heel. It pulls tight around my ankle, and I stop to look down. I tied it for a walk to a rock I can reach in less than a minute.

I sit and pick the knot apart.

The leather drops beside my foot. I get the other one off, then stay bent over with my right hand resting on my knee. Supper steams within reach. The smell of meat reaches me when I turn my head.

I should eat while it’s warm.

I look at the spoon and leave it where it is.

Beyond the hearth, the outer passage has gone dark. I can still see enough of the floor to walk across it. Past the bend, I could put my hand against the slab again.

I press my toes into the stone and start to rise.

My palm comes off the fur. For a few breaths I stay there with my weight forward, looking at the opening. Then I lower myself onto the pallet again.

He heard me. I stood right in front of him and made him understand.

There isn’t another word for outside.

I draw my feet up onto the bedding. Pine scent rises beneath the fur as I move, and I lean down to breathe it in. I have to get close enough that a loose strand of hair brushes the bed.

I used to smell rain coming while I ran. Keer would turn toward home, and I’d go the other way until he came after me. He could catch me if he worked at it.

I’d make him work.

My left shoulder pulls, and I sit up again. I can’t keep leaning over it. The bandage will need changing if I make it bleed.

I put my hand over the linen, holding the arm against my ribs.

In the forest I couldn’t hear Rauk coming. I looked straight at the full moon and got that wrong too. Today I watched his hands, his ears, every time he looked at me. I got it right, and I’m still sitting here.

Across the room, his bed is empty. He hasn’t come back. I stare at the hollow where he slept last night until my eyes begin to sting.

I want Keer.

I reach for him, hard enough that I hold my breath while I do it.

He was there the morning we ran with the pups. He was annoyed with me. I could touch him without turning my head, and he’d answer while he watched his children.

I wait with my good hand flat on the fur.

Water trickles somewhere beyond the inner bend. A log breaks in the fire, sending sparks above the pot.

I let my breath out and try Axan instead.

My hand starts to shake. I press it harder into the bedding, but the fur is loose and bunches under my fingers.