Don’t be gone! Oh, God, please, don’t be gone!
Summer was out of breath, fighting the drifts, the cold air burning in her lungs as she ran.
“Ke’lar!”
Twenty-three
Every step away from her was more difficult than the last. It was as if Summer’s world itself pulled at his feet, dragging on his limbs to slow Ke’lar’s progress, to make the parting ever more painful.
He could understand now why so many warriors had simply stopped caring if they lived when the Scourge had taken their mates. Why it was better to die in a challenge over one than to survive it and live without her . . .
By force of will alone he kept going, one boot sinking into the snow after another, closer to the ship, to Hir, half a galaxy away from her and the child.
He had not gotten a good look at her, Summer’s child—his child—the human male blocked much of his view. He could see the top of her head, the shimmering gold of her hair, the curve of her cheek, but more importantly he had seen the love that lit Summer’s face when she gazed upon the girl . . .
Weeks ago he had gone into the forest to demand the All Mother reveal the purpose for his life—and She had.
To be their provider, their protector, was the reason for his existence. His chest ached with wanting to stay, to share in their lives. But it was impossible. To remain here would make him more burden than warrior.
Still, to go, to leave them here on this uncivilized world, unprotected, roiled his stomach, an act in defiance of every instinct he had.
He would never see the face of the child he sacrificed all to protect, he would never see his Summer again, and he clenched his fist to keep the keen from rising in his throat.
There would be time enough to mourn their loss when he had done all he could to keep them safe.
No other human must see him. His very presence here in this forest, so near his mate and child, endangered them.
His fingers felt clumsy as he keyed the control to open the ship’s door. The ship was warm and bright, in utter contrast to the fading light outside, the clouds heavy with snow, but he took no pleasure in its comforts. Only disgrace and banishment awaited him on Hir but until the Goddess took him, he was Summer’s mate and he would wear that honor proudly, be a warrior worthy of her. He would face them all without shame, without regret; all he had done had been for her.
You are well worth the price indeed, my mate.
He fell heavily into the pilot’s seat, looking dully out at the woods. Snow was beginning to fall, the flakes drifting through the air, and soon even their last steps together would be wiped away.
It was as if he left his lifeforce here, with her, as if his body and heart would forever be separated by the emptiness of space. Ke’lar closed his eyes briefly, his fingers resting on the ship’s controls as the vessel powered up.
May the All Mother stand in my stead and protect you always, my Summer, my child . . .
Then he keyed in the commands to lift the ship for the return to Hir.
Twenty-four
“Momma?”
“Ke’lar!”
Summer’s glance darted about, her quick breath visible in the cold. She’d run out here without a coat, intent on following the faint tracks she and Ke’lar had left, her long dress dragging behind her in the snow.
She couldn’t see anything but woods and drifts, and the falling flakes were making it harder. She was no g’hir warrior, no hunter. The trail to the ship had disappeared, or he’d covered it when he’d backtracked.
The ship was cloaked, equipped with advanced technology that allowed it to blend so perfectly into the surroundings she could be standing right next to it and miss it entirely.
Unless it wasn’t here to miss anymore.
No, no, please . . .
Summer’s nose was running, her eyes stinging from the icy wind, the thin crocheted blanket not nearly enough to keep Emma warm in the dead of a Smoky Mountain winter and they were both shivering.
“Momma?”
“Hold on, baby.” She scanned the ground as she walked, the snow halfway to her knees in places, looking for more footprints, for some hint which way to go. Why hadn’t she paid more attention?
How do I find him if I can’t see the ship!
“Ke’lar!”
Her cry echoed through the woods but there was no response, the woods as white and clear and empty as ever.
The ship was right here! Wasn’t it? Or maybe farther down, farther from the road—
The light was fading fast as the snowfall picked up. Summer spun around, her gaze darting around the woods, turning so she could see in every direction, searching the quiet winter forest.
If he were here he would have heard her calling him. She wouldn’t have had to call out to him at all; he was a g’hir warrior. He would have heard her coming, trudging through the snow.
If he were here . . .
He wasn’t safe here. We both knew that. He had to leave.
“Why are you crying, Mommy? Are you hurt?”
“I—” Summer swallowed hard. “I lost something, baby.”