Page 12

Kala

“Are you listening, Iris?” Sorin asks.

“I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere for a second. Can you repeat what you said, please?”

What had she been thinking of that had her so distracted?

“Have you seen Healer Sage’s kit yet?”

“Not yet. She and her mate have been staying in their tent with the baby since she was born. I’ve heard from London and Maeve she’s adorable though.”

“I had been hoping to see her on the previous turn when we were in the village, but Gogo said we need to let Healer Sage rest because giving birth is hard work.”

“Your gogo is right. Plus, babies don’t sleep a lot when they’re babies. Which means neither do the parents.”

“I slept a lot when I was a kit.”

Iris chuckles. “You’re still a kit.”

“When I was a littler kit.”

“Your parents were very lucky then.”

“What about your parents? Were they lucky?”

I glance over my shoulder after the silence extends an unusual length of time.

Iris has lost the amusement that I often see her with.

To my surprise, Sorin must sense it as well, because he does not push her to respond like he normally would when someone is not fast enough to answer one of his many questions.

“My parents gave me away when I was a baby,” Iris finally says.

“Why would they do such a thing?” Sorin’s anger is evident.

“I only know what I was told by the sisters at the orphanage who raised me and that was my parents didn’t know how to care for me.”

“What is an orphan…age?” I say the word slowly.

“It’s a giant building that houses children without any families. The people who run it are called nuns. They’re a devoted group of women who worship God and never have children of their own, which doesn’t make them the greatest people to raise them.”

“These are the females who told you your gogo and momo could not care for you?” Sorin asks.

“Yes.”

He is quiet a moment longer before speaking again. “I do not like those females that raised you, nor do I like your gogo and momo.”

I do not either. What kind of parent gives away their kit? When Sorin was born, I did not know how to care for him, but I learned. Mistakes were made, but with each one, I gained knowledge and could improve.

“Thank you for being so protective of me, but now that I’m an adult, I can understand why they did what they did.

It’s hard enough on the bottom tier to take of oneself.

We never have enough credits to pay for our homes, let alone the protein bars required so we don’t starve.

Add in a special needs child, and it can be nearly impossible.

That part of Earth is difficult to survive, and it is unkind to people perceived as ‘different’,” Iris says.

“I used to be angry they abandoned me, but I don’t hate them for it.

Not anymore. I truly believe they did what they thought was best for me.

At the orphanage I had a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

That’s more than some people who live in the bottom tier can say. ”

What Iris says makes sense, but that still does not mean I like the fact she grew up with a momo or gogo to love and take care of her. Sorin’s momo nor I know much about affection, but every turn I learn more, and I hope my kit knows he is cared about by me.

“Then I am sorry you did not have a gogo like mine who makes sure you always have food to eat and who teaches you how to throw a war axe or who takes you to the Tavikhi village where your friends live so you have someone to play with,” Sorin says.

Iris sniffs, and I glance over my shoulder. The wetness is back in her eyes, only she does not wipe it away this time. Instead, a single droplet spills down her cheek, leaving a wet trail.

“Thank you, Sorin.”

I come to a stop and turn to wait until they reach me.

Unsure of what compels me, I reach out and brush my thumb across her flesh, taking care not to scratch her with my claw.

Iris widens her eyes, and her cheek darkens in color, along with her neck and the top of her chest, barely visible over the covering she wears.

“What does this wetness mean?”

She takes in a shuddering breath and my gaze drifts down to her chest. The mounds she possess change shape and develop a hard point in the center.

I lift my eyes to meet hers, and there is an unfamiliar emotion swirling in their depths.

A new scent joins the one that is all Iris.

Except it is not a scent I have never smelled before, only not as strongly.

“They’re called tears.”

I blink, because I have been lost in her gaze and forgot I even asked a question.“Tears?”

She nods. “Humans release tears which is called crying. We cry for a lot of different reasons. It might mean we’re sad or happy or in pain.”

“Humans do this crying when they are sad and when they are happy? How do you know which is which?”

She laughs lightly. “You can usually tell.”

“Were you happy or sad just now?”

“Maybe a little of both.”

I cock my head, because I do not understand how one can be both happy and sad at the same time. Iris reaches out a hand and lays it on my arm. A strange sensation races along my flesh and a throbbing pulses within my sac.

“Humans are a confusing species, I know.” Iris smiles broadly exposing her teeth.

Those are my favorite kind from her.

“I do not want you to be sad,” Sorin speaks up.

She draws her hand away from me and turns to my kit, but I can still feel her touch linger. “I’ll try my best not to be sad then. How about that?”

“All right.”

Before I say or do anything I might regret—like stroke her soft skin again—I beckon them to keep moving since we are nearly to the clearing where I have set up the practice target.

Through the break in the trees up ahead, I spot it.

We step out into the open and I pull my war axe from its sheath strapped to my back.

“This is where we will practice.” I turn toward Iris. “I will demonstrate first how to stand and the position you should place your body in to prepare to throw.”

Sorin pulls her off to the side, a safe distance from me. I ready myself, and with my eye on the target, I launch my axe, which embeds itself directly in the center.

Iris makes a loud screeching noise, and I whirl in her direction. She grins broadly and repeatedly slaps her hand against her opposite forearm to make a clapping sound.

“Excellent shot,” she calls out. “Although it’s not fair of you to show off on your first throw. At least try to make it look hard so I don’t feel so bad when I get up there and suck terribly.”

That rough noise rumbles up through my throat again, and Iris’s sweet laughter follows.

“I will do better the next time to try and…suck,” I tell her.

“See that you do.” Her grin broadens to my favorite one again.

“Your turn, Iris.” Sorin holds out his much smaller axe for her.

She carefully takes it and moves to stand in the same place I just vacated. I let her get into position before I correct her form.

“Like this.” I place my hands on her hips and turn them slightly.

She freezes and sucks in a sharp breath but then relaxes enough to let me shift her. Her fragrance grows stronger, including the other one which I have scented coming off the human mates of the Tavikhi when they are close to each other and doing the mouth touching.

“Now raise the axe, and keep your eye on the target.”

“Like this?” Iris asks, her voice breathy.

An urge unlike any other surges through me, and I take a single step closer, so my front brushes against her back. The throbbing in my sac increases, and my cock hardens at the feel of her soft body against mine and the scent of her that has grown stronger.

“Yes, like that.” I rasp into her ear.

Iris shudders and nearly drops the axe. I grip her hand wrapped around its handle and tighten her grasp.

“Focus.” Is it her I am telling or myself?

“Yes, you need to focus, Iris, or you will miss the target entirely,” Sorin calls out from the spot where he stands.

I jerk my body away from hers, and we both nearly lose hold of the weapon. She fumbles with it and I snatch it from her so she does not injure herself. I hiss as the blade slices across my palm.

“Oh my god, Kala. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It is barely a scratch.” It is the truth.

But my word must not be good enough for Iris, because she tosses the axe to the ground, grabs my arm, and turns it over to study my hand. Blood leaks from it, but it truly is nothing to be concerned over.

“Shit, you’re bleeding. Sorin, get me something to wrap this wound with, please?”

“We are close to the village. I will grab a cloth from there.”

Before I can stop him, he takes off running, while Iris continues to worry over me. I will admit—while unnecessary, it is a nice feeling.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No, it is my own. I should not have been…close to you. It was wrong of me.” No matter how right it felt.

She shakes her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I…enjoyed it.”

I study Iris, and she will not meet my gaze. “Will you not look at me?”

Slowly, she lifts her head. With my uninjured hand, I palm the side of her face.

Slowly, I lean in close. Her eyes drift shut, and I press my mouth to hers which fits perfectly in between my mouth claws.

They are as soft as the rest of her. I am unsure if there is something else I am supposed to do so I do nothing.

There is a light touch against my mouth slit and instinct has me parting it. A small, damp thing slides inside and before I can guess what it is, Iris jerks away with a small pained sound. I stare at her and she licks her lips with a tongue that is now bleeding.