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“Oh?” Hyath spun to me, grabbing my elbows with eagerness. “Tell me.”

Her fingers were warm against my skin, and the deep-seated worry to look at the sky came and went.

Lowering my voice with secrets, I murmured, “I’ve seen her looking at Leca.”

Niya’s cheeks burned a dusky rose. “What? No, you haven’t. I haven’t...I wouldn’t—”

“Why? Because he’s ten years older and second in command of the hunters?” Hyath asked coyly.

“Age means nothing.” Niya shook her head. “Rank means nothing. Not to me.”

“Is it because his first wife died from fevers, and he hasn’t shown interest in another woman since?” Hyath asked, her tone too light-hearted for such a serious question.

Niya stiffened.

I hadn’t known Leca had lost his first love. I hadn’t understood that perhaps Niya watched him whenever he was near because she was compassionate and kind. His loss would be something she would mourn over...doing whatever she could to make him feel seen and unforgotten.

Shooting forward, I grabbed Niya’s hands in my own. Our fingers linked, her dark skin blended with my tawny earthen tones that no longer looked sickly or frail, thanks to the clan’s care. She looked down where I held her, her shoulders tense and lips pursed.

“I am sorry, Niya. I didn’t mean—”

“You’re too observant, Girl.” She raised her eyes, locking onto mine. “Perhaps your talents are being wasted harvesting grain with us. You seem to have the seeing eyes like Solin.” She sighed, her tone slipping from self-protective shortness. Squeezing my fingers, she said quietly, “I’m sorry. You didn’t know. And you’re right that I watch him. Leca was hurting for a long time. I did my best to ease him through some of his grief, not because I wanted him, but because his mate was kind to me. I would never expect him to care for me in that way, but it makes me happy to know the worst of his mourning is over. Four years have passed since Dawi’s death, and I watch him to catch his smiles.” She tilted her head, braids and feathers sliding over her shoulders. “His smiles are coming more often, and I like to think that’s because of me, because of all of us.”

My chest warmed with love for her all while another secret swelled.

She was selfless in her care for Leca and perhaps a little blind.

Bending closer, forgetting about Hyath as she stood beside us, I whispered into her ear, “He watches you too, Niya. I’ve seen how his eyes follow you around the camp. You’re right that he smiles more, but he smiles the widest when you’re near.”

She blinked as I pulled back. No words fell as she swallowed hard.

I let my news sink into her heart, hoping I hadn’t meddled and instead granted happiness to someone I held so dear. “If you want him, then fight for him,” I urged. “If I’ve learned anything in my short life, the only way to live is to enjoy every moment you can.”

She kissed my cheek and unthreaded our fingers. Her voice wavered as she said fiercely, “The sooner Tiptu and Tral agree to the shared trance, the sooner you can remember what you’ve forgotten. You’ll finally know if you have a home that you’ve lost or realise that your true home is right here...with us.” Wrapping her arms around me, she breathed. “Because the longer you stay, the more I love you. And a day will come when I won’t let you go—memories or no memories.”

Hyath smiled at us as we broke apart and grabbed our baskets. “You two make my heart happy.”

Niya and I grinned and, with an unspoken agreement, returned to harvesting grain, sweating in the hot day.

I drifted into a sun-gilded trance, enjoying the pleasurable work of picking. Sunshine slowly arced over the sky, and my basket grew heavy with seeds.

But we didn’t stop.

We kept going, gathering enough to replenish the storage lupic where baskets upon baskets of dried meat and grain waited to be eaten in winter.

Slowly, we drifted apart as we chased plumper, riper seedheads.

Hyath went one way, Niya the other, while I kept moving forward.

Away from the camp.

Toward the small woods far, far in the distance and the only hills in the entire plains. Far off on the horizon, the trees beckoned with shelter, tugging me forward.

The mark on my thigh burned again, pulling, coaxing, leading me farther and farther from the Nhil camp.

I lost myself to the harvest, slipping into a daze, and vanishing into the grasslands.

Chapter Ten

. The Stranger .

I DROPPED TO MY HAUNCHES, hidden by the swaying golden grass as footsteps came toward me. The gentle rhythm of a creature ambling set my hackles rising, not because I was afraid, but because whatever animal came near didn’t walk on four legs.

But two.

Wariness slithered down my spine.

I wished I had sharp teeth like Salak.

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