Emma nestled closer. “I’m cold.”
“I am too, sweetie,” Summer whispered, her teeth chattering. Emma was heavy, even carried on her hip like this, but she wasn’t even wearing shoes, just socks, so she couldn’t put her down.
Emma was shivering and her own feet in Jenna’s damn slippers felt frozen. It was going to get dark soon; she couldn’t keep Emma out here like this.
“Let’s get you home,” Summer said numbly, turning that way. The way back was harder going. The snow seemed harder packed, with a crust of ice she had to break through with every step. There were drifts, some very deep, and Summer kept her head down, careful where she stepped.
Emma gasped, her tiny arms tightening around Summer’s neck in fright, and she quickly followed her daughter’s stare.
His face was softened by the fading winter light, strands of his long black hair were lifted by the wind, his glowing eyes a vibrant blue as they met hers. Standing here, in the woods, the snow swirling around him, he seemed not alien at all but some magical creature.
“Ke’lar!”
Summer stumbled toward him, half-afraid he was an illusion, a dream she’d conjured up that would vanish before she could reach him.
But his hands were the same warm, strong ones they had always been and they caught her as gently now as they had when she’d first begged him for help on Hir.
“Why are you here in the cold and snow?” he asked. “What has happened?”
It was so like that first meeting that Summer, her tears overflowing, started to laugh.
“How come your eyes look like that?” Emma asked.
Ke’lar’s throat worked for a moment as he beheld the child he considered to be his own. “Emma . . .”
He reached out to her then hesitated, his gaze anxious, but he would have little experience with any child and none with a human one.
“It’s okay,” Summer assured.
“She is so like you, my mate.” He touched the girl’s cheek with just the tips of his fingers, as if fearful she was too fragile even for that light caress, and next to Emma he seemed a giant indeed. “She is lovely beyond words.”
Emma regarded him with wide blue eyes and he addressed her.
“I am not human. I am g’hir,” Ke’lar rumbled, speaking very softly. “That is why my eyes are different.”
“He’s growling, Momma!” Emma cried. “Is he going bite me?”
“She cannot understand me.” Ke’lar’s shoulders slumped, utterly crestfallen. “She is afraid of me.”
“Emma, this is Ke’lar. He can understand what you say but you can’t understand him yet. I promise, though, he’ll always protect you. He will always keep you safe.”
Her daughter pondered that for a moment. “Like Beast?”
Ke’lar’s rippled brow creased. “A beast?”
Summer bit the inside of her cheek. Ke’lar was gorgeous. “She means Beast from Beauty and the Beast—it’s a movie, one for kids. He’s big and has fangs too but he’s nice to Belle. Emma loves that movie.”
He gave a g’hir nod even though it was clear he wasn’t really following. “She is shivering,” he said. “As are you. Why are you here? What has happened?”
“I was looking for you. I—” She tilted her head toward Emma. “We want to come back with you.”
He went still. “What?” he whispered hoarsely.
“We want to come back with you,” she repeated. “Emma and I. To Hir.”
He wasn’t taking this the way she thought he would. In fact, he didn’t look happy about it at all.
“Don’t you—” Summer wet her lips. “Don’t you want us to?”
His throat worked and he glanced at Emma. “We must get her inside, we must get you both warm. Come—” He reached for the girl and surprisingly Emma went right to him. He held her easily, as if she weighed nothing at all, as if he could carry her forever. “We will return to your shelter.”
Summer got her and Emma into clean, warm clothes as soon as they got back to the cabin. While her sheepskin boots didn’t compare to the ones she’d left behind at the Erah clanhouse, after running through the snow in dancing slippers, they were positively toasty.
Emma was hungry, of course. Finding out that Dean had handed her a bag of junk food from the gas station when they filled up rather than take the time to stop and get her a real meal had Summer’s blood boiling so she put off Emma’s bath for after supper.
She’d been gone ten days so the milk was a loss but she had plenty on hand at the cabin that was still edible. She decided to make Emma’s favorite—spaghetti and meatballs—while Emma, with all the seriousness of a cultural ambassador, queued up the movie so Ke’lar could see who Belle was.
Summer had just put the water onto the stove to heat and managed to catch the look on Ke’lar face as Emma, an expert at using the remote at age three, scrambled onto the sofa to cuddle next to him.