CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

CORVAK

I dislike Valmir intensely.

I know I shouldn't. I know he is injured because of me and doesn't want to be in our cave.

I know if I was in his position, I would be unwilling to help anyone.

But the more he talks to Aidy, and the more she asks him questions, I find myself imagining things.

I picture picking him up and tossing him down the cliff.

I think about going over and just snapping his neck, or bashing his smiley, smirky head against the wall.

"Who was the last person to have a baby out there on the beach? What was she like? How old is she?" Aidy is asking.

Valmir makes a face. "I don't know. I don't pay attention to who is breeding." His tail thumps, all agitation. "Are we planning to go back to the beach soon? When? Because the sooner I get this ankle looked at, the better."

"We need more answers before we establish a travel plan." Aidy turns to look at me. "What am I forgetting to ask, love?"

Crossing my arms, I try not to scowl too much. It's not Valmir's fault that I hate him simply because Aidy is so focused on him right now. "How many days' travel from here is it?"

"With me and my bad ankle? And with a female in tow? Many."

Aidy makes an outraged sound and stands up. "You act like I need to be carried. I can walk."

Valmir shoots her a doubtful look and glances over at me, repeating himself. "Many days."

"You're the one that's going to need a piggyback ride," she mutters and gets to her feet, shooting me an aggrieved look that warms my heart. It makes me feel better that he annoys her, too. My chest—my khui, as he calls it—purrs with contentment.

Aidy moves to the cookfire and scoops the snow-people's bowl in the pouch, getting the last bits out.

She heads to the entrance and hands the bowl to the nearest waiting male.

He snatches it from her hands and turns away, hunching over it so no one will try and steal his food, while the others clustered nearby hoot angrily, waiting their turn.

"That's all the food," Aidy comments to me. "And this valley is completely denuded at this point. Maybe we should think about leaving sooner rather than later."

"Good, because I've got somewhere to be.

" Valmir's tail swats on the floor again, his only sign of agitation.

He is doing his best to seem bored, but I am not fooled.

He's mentioned several times that he wants to leave, and it's not just because of his ankle.

Something else is on his mind, but he won't say what.

"Tell me more about this healer first," I demand. "And babies. She can make it come out of Aidy? Safely?"

"It's called giving birth," Aidy says to me, a smile curving her lips for the first time this day.

Her smile warms my spirit, but I am not easily swayed.

It is my job to take care of her, and I am going to make sure that this journey is safe before we step one foot out of this cave.

"Whatever it is called, I want to make sure it's safe for you.

There is no sense in us traveling for many days," and I give Valmir a pointed stare, "if there is no true assistance for you. "

"It's about more than that. It's about community. Sharing knowledge."

"Getting my ankle fixed," Valmir grumps.

The snow-people are getting agitated, and Aidy moves to the entrance again, putting her hand out for the bowl.

It's quickly handed to her, and the metlaks hoot and jostle each other, wanting more food.

There's a smaller one at the front, and he makes the hand signal to Aidy for "eat" over and over again.

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, no. There's no more food." She gestures with her hand even as she says the words aloud. "That's all for today. That—yipe!"

The creature swipes at her arm with his claws, gashing her soft skin. The bowl clatters to the ground.

Red flashes in my vision. They dare to hurt my female? After all she has done for them? She gives them hours of her time every day and they attack her? Fury boils in my gut and in this moment I hate all of them.

Aidy stumbles backward in shock, clutching her bleeding arm. I lunge forward, growling, and pull her protectively behind me.

She cries out. "Wait?—"

I am done listening, though. I grab the metlak by his scrawny shoulders, wanting nothing more than to throw him off the side of the cliff. It's only when I stare down at him that I realize how young he is, how small.

"That's Pinkie's son," Aidy tells me when I hesitate. "Please don't."

I fling him away from me. "If he's Pinkie's son, he should know better." I turn to the metlak and make the gesture for "kneel", utterly furious.

The boy immediately drops to his knees and presses his face to the snow. Behind him, others drop. Every single one of them kneels in front of me, just as they have been trained.

Because to them, I am their Great One. Their leader. But Aidy is nothing to them.

I cannot allow that.

"Stay where you are," I gesture, so angry that I can't think straight. Even the hooting has gone silent.

I storm back into the cave, moving to Aidy's side. She has a skin clutched to her arm, fur side down, and the scent of blood is heavy in the air. Her face is pale and she looks uneasy.

"I'm okay," she says before I can speak.

"I will be the judge of that." I cradle her wounded arm gently, peeling back the fur she has stuck to it. The gashes are deep, but not so bad that they have injured muscle. It bleeds freely and I hate the sight of it, hate the thought of her being in pain. "I should have protected you."

She shakes her head. "I didn't realize they'd lash out at me. I should have known, though. They get vicious when they get hungry."

"What did you expect?" Valmir says, adding himself to the conversation. "You've been feeding them and training them like pets, but there's a reason everyone avoids metlaks. They're uncontrollable."

Aidy frowns in his direction. "Now is not the time?—"

I interrupt her. "No, he's right. I should have known."

My heart is heavy. It should have been me wounded. I could handle such a thing. The scratches on me would be trivial. But Aidy is smaller and has a soft hide. And she has been sick.

All of this makes me even more miserable.

"I should have guessed," I continue. "And now they have harmed my mate and there is none to blame but me." I cup Aidy's face in my hand. "Go wash your wound in the pool, love. I will take care of the snow-people."

She hesitates, then nods, moving towards her beloved heated pool.

I ignore Valmir and his accusing gaze. I don't want to see it right now.

I head to the front of the cave again, eyeing the snow-people waiting.

They have sat up, but the moment they see me again, they press their heads to the snow once more, like naughty children caught misbehaving.

"Go," I say to them, my voice firm and loud. "Go away! You are not welcome any longer!"

They ignore me.

"Go," I say even louder, making the gestures as exaggerated as I can. Some sit up, eyeing me. One backs up a few steps and then crouches again, waiting. The others simply watch.

I pick up a rock and throw it in the direction of the crowd. There must be hundreds of them in the valley now, far more than I could possibly fight. They move to avoid the rock, but continue to watch me, as if I will somehow produce more food for them.

They are not going to leave, I realize. They have no intention of it.

Angry with them—and with myself—I storm back into the cave.

Valmir clears his throat from his spot against the stone wall. "I don't want to say I told you so, but…I told you so."

"Silence," I snarl.

"You created this problem, friend. You need to create a way out of it or it's going to be bad for all three of us."

He's not wrong. But how do I convince the snow-people that I am not their Great One after encouraging it for so many weeks? And how do we get away from them safely?