51. Thivoll

51

Thivoll

"Look at me."

After a long trembling moment, she does. Her eyes are leaking, the surrounding skin bright red and her blue eyes shot through with it.

"I thought I lost you."

Both of us are shaking, but the space between us seems like it shouldn't be crossed.

I know something is wrong with her, of course, but at no point have I more keenly felt the impact of my ignorance about her species.

"What does the leaking from your eyes mean? It's scaring me."

She's holding herself tight, arms clenched around her elbows. I want to embrace her, but everything about her posture is telling me she doesn't want to be touched.

Considering I forcibly moved her here, I can't blame her.

"I'm crying . It's a result of big emotions. Sometimes humans cry when they're happy or even angry, but most of the time it's because we're sad. Or scared."

"Which one this time, besides scared?"

"I don't know. So many things. Right at this moment because I feel like I destroyed something between us."

A pang stabs through me. I reach forward to stroke her cheek but she dodges away.

I pull my trembling hand back.

"No. You did nothing wrong. I did. I can't ever risk you like that again."

She moves her hands up higher on her shoulders, bending them even farther in, her grip so tight her usually pink skin is white.

"I need to be alone," she tells me, then shuffles back to our nest.

So few words . . . to cause so much pain. I push down the guttural groan that wants to rise to give it voice. She is too folded in on herself as it is.

She doesn't need my feelings as an additional burden.

I shake myself from head to tail, flinging off remnant sand from the river right along with thoughts that lead nowhere good.

After a careful check of the rest of our cave, I lay down in the middle of the main room, my ears alert, my legs tucked under my chest, arms outstretched in front of me so I can be ready to spring up.

Even if she wanted me with her, I might not be able to be anywhere but out here.

Where I can stop any threat long before it gets to her.

Now I know genuine fear.

It's highly unpleasant, to say the least.

As much as I love the idea of personal freedom, and as much as I don't want to put her at risk of falling ill, I had an important realization today. In one of the worst ways possible.

She is far too protective for her own good. It's highly attractive, but it also has to stop.

I'm going to have to relive my glory days as a recalcitrant kit in order to tell her no. And keep telling her no. Or even simply ignore things I don't agree with, just like I did with my poor dam. Except this time for a far better cause than simple hijinks.

I'll have to stand firm, no matter how many wide-eyed beautiful aqua pleading looks she gives me.

She's the one who needs a protector, especially from her own helping impulse. Any time I need to stand firm I'll only need to think of that terrible moment I looked across the river to see her disappearing into the trees at gunpoint.

Or remember her absolute horror after she defended herself.

That male didn't deserve a single one of her thoughts, and yet I know the blows she dealt to him will haunt her. No one plunges into an icy river to wash off blood in such a frenzy if they aren't also trying to wash it off their soul.

It doesn't affect me like that, but anyone with eyes can tell she isn't someone who can hurt another without high cost.

If those aren't already plenty to help me hold on to my resolve, I can remember my terror.

Or the lost look in her eyes.

Yes, there's no danger of me changing my mind. The only thing left to do is to ensure the growing trust we have isn't damaged beyond repair.

Hopefully she will forgive me for today.

Then another thought occurs to me, and I feel like a dolt. It's been staring me right in my ugly face and I still haven't thought outside the confines of my species.

She's human.

I could lock her in this cave for years and she might hate me, but it wouldn't kill her.

No. That wouldn't be right.

Would it?