When a moth loved a bee, p.6
When a Moth loved a Bee, page 6
I flinched at the odd coldness in his tone.
Tiptu noticed it too, scowling. “She doesn’t need to share your roof for that. We will arrange a naming ceremony once she is sufficiently healed and the rest of our clan has met her. Together, we will all give her a name.”
“She already has a name.” Giving the chiefess a dark look, Solin murmured, “She’s not a youngling, Tiptu. She’s of age to mate and choose a future of her own. We could name her, you’re right. But the name she already has is the one I’m more interested in.”
“Why are you acting as if it’s so important?” Tiptu asked suspiciously.
“Because I’ve been told by the fire that it is.”
Everything stilled.
Everyone went silent.
Tiptu clenched her jaw, looking me up and down before focusing on Solin with a wary glance. “What are you saying, Fire Reader?”
“I’m saying I need to share a trance with her.”
“What?” Tiptu twitched and clutched her swollen belly. “Have you lost your mind? You said you’d never do that again. Not since—”
“Since I was much younger. I have greater power now. I’ll be able to step into her mind and have her spirit guide me through what is hidden.”
“Absolutely not.” Tiptu crossed her arms, pushing her breasts even higher. “Do you remember what happened the last time you shared a trance? You almost died, Solin. You were catatonic for days, and we were unable to bring you back. Why do you wish to do something as risky as that again?”
Solin never looked away from me, his face etched with flames. “Because the fire whispered to me last night that I don’t have a choice.”
Niya sucked in a breath beside me, Olish shifted on his feet, and Tiptu’s cheeks glowed with disapproval. “The fire is mistaken. You do have a choice. You can read her spirit without—”
“I cannot,” Solin snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She carries a mark, Tiptu. A mark that I’ve never seen before.” Stepping into me, he lifted my furs a little, hovering his hand over my upper thigh. Over the strange discolouration that wasn’t a bruise or scar. A smudge that Niya had said reminded her of a sunburst when she’d found me by the river.
I flinched as his fingers traced the irregular shape, making my heart gallop. “Birthmarks are rare,” he said to the chiefess, all while staring at me. “The moment I saw it, the fire surged in its hearth. It hissed for me to commune. Every night since, I’ve entered a trance, hoping to gain insight on who she is and why she’s marked, but each time, the flames refuse.” He softened his voice. “It refuses to tell me because it will only speak to her.”
“Me?” I tripped backward, almost falling over the log behind me. “I-I don’t understand…”
Niya wrapped an arm around my waist, steadying me before letting me go. “It’s just a birthmark, Solin,” Niya whispered. “And she’s just a traveller, lucky enough to be found before it was too late.”
“No, Niya.” Solin shook his head. “I think she’s more than that.”
“What is she then?” Tiptu demanded, the flowers in her braids shivering. “Why does the fire wish to speak to her?”
“I don’t know.” Solin balled his hands. “That’s what I must find out.”
I trembled on the spot, clamping a hand over the disfigured circle on my upper right thigh. The misshapen coil with its spearing lines did look like the sun on a clear-sky day, but no matter how many times I’d looked at it, touched it, studied it, it hadn’t given me any knowledge on why I was alone or why my mind was empty.
Tiptu ran a hand over her left braid, glancing at Olish. For a long while, no one spoke. The hum of voices from others around the fire sounded so light-hearted compared to the sudden overwhelming tension between us.
Solin hadn’t spoken a word of this to me.
He hadn’t tried to touch my leg or ask me about it.
You were in and out of consciousness.
He could’ve studied my mark for days, and I wouldn’t have known.
I hugged myself as Tiptu continued to stare at me before glaring at Solin. “I will talk to Tral. You mustn’t do anything until we’ve discussed it, do you understand?” She pointed at Solin. “She may stay in your lupic, but you must not, under any circumstances, share a trance.”
Solin clasped his hands together, his face sombre and stern. “I understand.”
Tiptu’s shoulders relaxed a little. “When…when would you do it? If Tral agrees?”
Solin’s gaze burned into me like black fire. “Whenever our guest is ready.”
I didn’t know what a trance entailed or why it was so dangerous for them to be shared, but my stomach crawled with warning.
“A-And if I’m never ready?” I breathed.
“Then you will live a half-life,” Solin muttered. “A life that might always hide who you truly are.”
“And…if I agree?”
“Then you are at the mercy of the fire and all it wishes to give you.” He stepped into me, grabbing my chin and holding me tight. “You might remember. You might not. But either way, the flames have taken an interest in you, and eventually, they will have you…one way or another.”
Chapter Eight
. The Stranger .
MY FEET POUNDED THE GROUND as I raced beside Salak.
His paws thundered as his legs blurred with quickness. With a wolfen grin, he lowered his head in challenge. I recognised his dare, reading his silent language as his horns caught the sunshine, glowing with perfect ivory.
Baring my teeth, I balled my hands, preparing to take him on.
In the month I’d lived with Salak’s pack, my body had grown in strength and speed. The alpha—who I’d named Salak after his silver-etched fur—had fed me well.
I hunted with them. I shared their kills. I ate with my hands drenched in blood while their crimson-stained muzzles tore into gristle and hide.
I was one of them.
As surely as if I had fur, claws, and teeth. We were bonded by moonlight and swift-footed as the stars.
Salak growled beside me, bringing me back to our daylight race. We’d left the den at dawn, female, males, and pups all enjoying the sunshine. We’d headed to the river where the stream was deep enough to drink and paddle. The pups chased butterflies while Salak kept a careful eye on his pack. I’d lay in a patch of sunlight, drifting between awake and dreaming, desperate for another memory of the girl with moonbeam hair, only to be woken by my mark burning as if the very sun had speared my thigh.
The sensation had become frustratingly familiar.
Every night since I’d scented the fire on the horizon, my mark scratched at me with impatience. I’d stare at the smoke that always spiralled from the same spot—tainting the air with soot and char—and fought the compulsion to chase.
I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like the strangeness of it—that the smoke never grew or moved.
Salak growled beside me, sensing my mind had wandered again, even as I ran beside him with three other males, fanning out amongst the waist-high grass.
I grinned. “I’ll win this time.”
I never won.
The alpha was too big, too strong, too fast, but I liked trying. These runs had become a daily joy, speeding through the pack’s vast territory, waiting as Salak marked his borders, sending messages to trespassers that they would find a welcome of fangs and pain if they entered.
“You’ve fed me well,” I panted, keeping up the punishing pace. “I’m strong now. You’ll lose.”
The alpha snorted, his tongue lashing over bared teeth.
I laughed. “I’ll show you.”
He cocked his head as if to taunt me.
My heart thudded as I forced my legs to run faster. Bare feet flew over earth, immune to debris and leathery with wear. Reaching out, I stroked the alpha’s thick ruff before gathering the rest of my power.
“Let the best wolf win.” I shot forward.
Salak snapped at my hand as I trailed it over his muzzle. His eyes narrowed as I pulled ahead. The three younger males yipped and leapt into the race, all while Salak hung back, giving me a false taste of victory.
I used his mockery to my advantage and kept pushing, kept increasing my speed until I ran faster than I ever thought possible.
But then, with a short bark, Salak surged ahead, deliberately brushing his large bulk against my side to make me stumble. “Hey!”
He galloped ahead—four legs working effortlessly while I found my feet again.
With a growl of my own, I chased after him.
Grass blurred around me.
Air became thick as I sliced through it.
And the three other males fell back, unable to keep up.
I looked over my shoulder in surprise.
I’d never outrun a wolf. Never witnessed them fading into the distance.
My breath caught as I looked ahead, catching a glimpse of Salak’s tail whipping through the grass.
He wasn’t that far ahead.
I’d gained on him.
How?
For all my taunts that I’d win, I never believed I stood a chance.
As I ran in pace with the giant alpha, gaining paw print by paw print, awe filled me.
Salak was undefeated—utterly unmatched, yet…a small part of me began to believe I could match him. Not to take his pack but to prove to myself that the sickly, weak mortal who’d wanted to die a month ago was no longer.
I’m as strong as a wolf.
Lowering my chin, I added every last speed to my legs.
I closed my eyes and summoned strength from deep, deep within.
For the first time, I sank into who I was—a nameless man who had no family and no memories but somehow could keep pace with an alpha. Swift heat suddenly bolted down my thighs, scorching my toes.
A weightlessness descended around me.
The world fell away.
I was there but not there.
I was mortal but so much more.
I gave myself over to it.
I welcomed the effortless power.
A brush of fur on my hip.
The pounding of paws as I raced ahead.
A surprised growl as I left him in my dust.
More heat burst through my ribs, ebbing from a black, endless place behind my heart. It sparked and hissed, shooting through my veins until it branded the mark on my leg with fire.
I didn’t feel earth beneath me anymore.
I opened my eyes and—
Darkness.
All around my legs.
Shadows twined around my thighs and calves, circling my feet and ankles, swallowing my lower half until I was part night, part man.
I stumbled.
I gasped.
I tumbled headfirst into the grass, breaking stems and sending a plume of seedheads bursting into the sky. Landing in a tangle of limbs, I swiped at the undulating darkness around my legs. The shadows shifted and slithered, throbbing in time with my heartbeat.
Salak slammed to a stop beside me, his large bulk towering above as he bared his teeth and snarled at the shades wrapped around me. He snapped at the one lashing my ankle.
Ripping my legs away from his fangs, I rubbed my skin and sighed in relief as the darkness faded, the cloying shadows dispersing. They slithered into the long grass like black snakes, removing the grey pallor from my earthen skin, leaving me sunlit once again.
Salak panted, his tongue wet and eyes narrowed. He grumbled low in his chest.
I caught his stare, shrugging with as much confusion as him. “I don’t understand.” Standing, I peered into the grass, searching for the shadows that’d swallowed my legs whole. “That’s never happened before.”
Salak sniffed me as if making sure I was still the mortal he’d chosen. His damp, cool nose inhaled every inch before he sneezed, rubbed his muzzle on his legs, then huffed and turned to retrace the way we’d run.
I moved with him, shaken and slightly afraid.
Had I done that?
Had I somehow summoned the night to infiltrate the day?
Rubbing my face with both hands, I looked over my shoulder to see how far we’d raced.
I froze.
No…it can’t be.
Spinning back, I glared at the silver plume of smoke, twirling in the sky, glittering with sunshine.
The fire.
The never-ending, never-moving fire was only a short run away.
The mark on my thigh stung.
Her touch was the sweetest agony and her smile like a brilliant sunrise—
My chest burst with blistering heartache.
My feet moved on their own accord.
I was summoned, urged—
Salak huffed and darted into my path, filling my vision with wolf. With a soft whine, he pressed his huge bulk against my side. He barked and pushed me, making me trip backward.
“Hey…” I rested my hand on his flank, feeling the hardness of muscle beneath dense fur. “I need to see. Something’s tugging me...”
He snorted and pushed me again, shoving me away from the ever-burning flames.
“Fire can devour this entire plain,” I said softly, trying to convince him and myself that I was leaving for safety reasons, not because my heart pounded with urgency. An anxious desperation that only grew stronger the longer he forbid me.
Salak pushed me again, his body stiff and teeth bared.
He’d never used his dominance over me in such a way before. He’d always welcomed and cajoled instead of outright requested I follow his law. And usually, I would behave. I would accept his decree and follow him back to the cave.
But…
Today was a day of firsts.
Pushing him toward the direction of the pack and safety of the cave, I stepped backward toward the fire plume. “I’ll just look, then I’ll return. You have my word.”
The wolf snarled and shook his head.
I held my ground.
The crescent-moon mark on my hip suddenly switched from an irritating sting to a breath-stealing burn.
I flinched.
Salak glanced at it as if he could feel the sizzling pain, just like me.
I frowned.
He grumbled as his hackles rose.
“You don’t have to be afraid.” I fought the urge to slap a palm over my blazing mark. “Nothing can hurt me.”
He snarled again, his narrowed eyes glowing a darkened gold.
A gust of sooty smoke swirled around us on a breeze, wrenching my gaze over my shoulder, soaking into my bones, goading me to investigate.
I have to go.
Straightening to my full height, I glowered at the alpha and spoke a language he would understand.
I snarled. Loudly.
I bared my teeth.
I held his stare so he knew I would fight if he refused to let me go, and then I turned and walked away.
For a long moment, Salak didn’t respond.
His silence broke my heart because I’d hurt the only creature who’d found and loved me.
But then the grass rustled as he sat on his haunches. The air tensed as he lifted his muzzle to the sun. And a flock of birds shot into the sky as Salak released a spirit-rendering howl.
I flinched as it echoed in my ears.
I shivered with despair that I’d somehow made a massive mistake.
I began to run.
Chapter Nine
. Girl .
MY HEAD WHIPPED UP AS shivers washed down my spine.
A wolf’s howl…during the day?
And close.
Too close.
I clutched my shallow basket, fighting memories of tripping through a lonely world, catching glimpses of yellow eyes in the dark, running for as long as I could until my legs gave out.
I could remember the emptiness so clearly. I carried the scars of loneliness as if they were physical wounds. Yet I still couldn’t remember anything beyond that.
The wolf howled again.
It sounded different this time—deeper and darker, as if full of frustration before cutting off mid-call, leaving the grasslands eerily silent and on edge.
Niya shifted closer to me, her ebony skin glistening with sweat and dotted with seeds from the grasses we currently harvested. Hyath looked up too, her pale skin pink from the sun and a large hat made out of woven reeds on her head. All of us wore furs hiding our chests and wrapping our hips, making me long for the days when I roamed the world naked. I appreciated the furs warmth on cooler evenings, but the heat of the day was awful.
“Strange beasts,” Niya muttered. “Out hunting at the hottest time of the afternoon.” Using her wrist, she wiped at the wetness on her forehead. “I know if I was a wolf with a thick pelt, I’d be snoozing in a cool cave somewhere.”
Hyath placed her shallow basket on the ground, coming to join us. The few other women who’d agreed to forage this morning gave us smiles and cocked their heads to see if the wolf would cry again, before resuming their rhythm of plucking ripe seedheads and sifting them into their woven baskets.
This task was one of my favourites. I volunteered each time a foraging party was arranged. I liked standing in the sea of golden grass. I liked the gentle breeze as it danced amongst the stalks. And I liked the heart-warming sense of pride when we returned later this afternoon with our baskets full of grain and took turns with the large river rocks to crush the kernels, grind the husks, and create a powder that was the main ingredient in the delicious flatbread and chewy cakes that went so well with fire-roasted roots and honey.
“If you were a wolf, you’d be at the mercy of whatever the alpha told you to do.” Hyath smiled at Niya. “You couldn’t just laze the day away in the shade.”
“If I was a wolf”—Niya grinned—“I would be the alpha.”
I laughed with them, grateful their company had shed the lingering fear that’d struck from nowhere. Many things reminded me of back then.
