Page 17 of Surrender


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I kiss her, deep and long. When she is relaxed, her skin hot with need, I find her hand, draw it down to my leathers. I loosen the ties, pushing them down my hips, before bringing her hand around my cock. I keep my own hand wrapped around hers, guiding her movements, the pressure, the pace. It is not long before I am breathing hard, a pressure building low in my abdomen as I race towards my peak. I crush my lips to hers, kissing her hard, and her little moans are enough to send me over the edge. I growl my release, hips jerking into our interlinked hands as pleasure courses through me.

“Was that good?” my Grace asks, kissing along my jaw.

I chuckle. “Better than good, linasha.”

The word is out of my mouth before I can think better of it. It is not calling her ‘mine’ but it is at the same time, and I fear I may have just ruined a perfect moment with my careless speaking. But my Grace just smiles, nestling closer to me, and I wonder if already she is growing comfortable with the idea of belonging to me. If perhaps she is realising that it is not something to fear when the belonging goes both ways.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Grace

Ifigure we’ll have some time to live in the perfect little bubble we’ve created, that we can exist in the simple joy we’ve found before life intrudes. But the bubble shatters the next day when Maldek returns to the village without Sam.

The raskarrans immediately head out to look for her, despite the torrent of rain that falls from the sky, endless, unrelenting. They’re used to it, I guess, having weathered this season every year since they were born, but I know I’m not the only one among us girls who’s wondering if there’s any chance at all of them finding Sam while it pours like that. The hunters can track an ensouka herd across the forest, but that depends on them leaving footprints, broken branches, trees stripped of leaves in their wake. One small human woman isn’t going to leave much of anything behind her. And anything she did leave would soon be washed away.

“Is there any chance they’ll find her?” Molly asks as we wait for Calran to return.

I sigh. I want to give her hope, but I won’t lie to her.

“There’s never no chance,” I say. “Until we know for sure what happened to her, there’s always a possibility that she’s okay somewhere. But I don’t think it’s very likely.”

I don’t know what I’m expecting her reaction to be, but she just drops her head against my shoulder, sniffing back tears. I wrap my arms around her, and we’re still sitting like this when Calran returns.

I know immediately from his expression that they haven’t found her. He’s wet through and must be cold, but he crouches down beside me, pressing his forehead to mine in expression of his sorrow. Then he turns to Molly, gripping her shoulder lightly. Molly’s lip wobbles, then she wrenches herself away from us, heading for her room and pulling the curtain shut behind her. I rise from my seat to follow her, but Calran catches my arm, shaking his head slightly, before raising his hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. Then he kisses my brow and heads into our room.

I fetch some fresh water in a pan - one thing that isn’t in short supply while the rains fall. I keep three pots outside at all times and bring one in as and when I need it. Setting it over the fire, I sprinkle in some of the tea leaves we use, making Calran a hot drink. When he emerges from our room, dressed in fresh, dry clothes, I hand it to him, and he gives me a grateful smile. Only when he’s finished drinking it does he incline his head towards Molly’s door.

I nod, then take a deep breath before heading over, drawing back the curtain just enough for communication without raised voices.

“Molly? Can I come in?”

I think I hear a sniffle, but in the absence of a clear ‘no’, I decide to take a chance. I slip through the curtain, drawing it closed behind me, then head over to the bed.

The room is a mess. It’s been a mess since day one. Clothes scattered everywhere, various trinkets and things she’s acquired left haphazard on the floor. I’ve tried telling her to sort her things out, but she invariably gets angry with me for trying to mother her when I’m not her mother, so I’m letting it slide for now. She’s been doing better lately, engaging with the other girls and with some of the chores around the village. I’m hoping before the rains are out, we’ll be able to have a conversation about responsibility and taking care of the things she’s been given by the raskarrans. I don’t even think it’s that she isn’t grateful. I think, like all of us, she’s just struggled to overcome whatever darknesses are in her past. I have to remember how much harder it must be for her, being the only person in her age group, and give her as much leniency and grace as I can.

Perching on the edge of her bed, I rest a hand on her shoulder. She’s curled up under her furs, facing away from me.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask.

I expect rejection, or at the very least, silence. But Molly rolls onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, if not quite at me.

“Why do bad things always happen to the best people?” she says.

Something in the way she says it makes me think she’s not just talking about Sam.

“Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. It happens the other way round, too. We just remember it more that way because it seems so unfair. But it’s not to do with fairness or karma. The universe is just random, there’s no higher power guiding things. We get lucky, or we get unlucky. Think about Lorna - she got so unlucky she nearly died, but then she got very lucky to meet her mate in Shemza. Neitherhad anything to do with her being good or bad. She was the same person when she broke her arm that she is now.”

“But what about Lina?”

I pause, trying to consider the raskarran goddess fairly. It’s clear that they believe she’s a presence in their lives, guiding them. Lina chooses their mates for them, as they see it. Calran would believe she chose us for each other. Do I believe that? Mostly not, but a part of me wonders sometimes. Particularly when Liv talks about how Gregar shouldn’t have been able to connect with her over such a distance. If he hadn’t, we’d have all died, no question. Lina, or just damn good luck?

“It’s nice to believe there’s a goddess looking out for us, isn’t it? But whether she’s really there, or just a name for coincidence and fate, I see her as more of a nudge in the right direction than an iron fist moving us around like pawns. We still have to make smart choices, work hard. I’m sure Sam and Maldek did those things, but if someone else made bad choices…”

“Lina wouldn’t be able to nudge them out of it,” Molly says.

I stroke her hair back from her face. She looks so very young right now, staring up at the ceiling overhead, eyes looking into the past, I think, not the present moment.

“We should make some food,” I say. “Would you like to help cook, or would you prefer to stay in here a little while longer?”

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