Episode Sixteen The Walk

L ylah

Hazlan snags the thick bearskin in one hand and my hand in the other and leads me out the door. The moment we're away from the other two, my anxiety falls away and I'm blanketed by a feeling of calm.

Isn't this what I used to fantasize about during the long days I was alone in our apartment at the Works? That somehow I'd find a way out of Joseph's clutches? When my thoughts became bolder, I imagined more than escape. I imagined someone might love me and treat me kindly.

Could I really be so lucky to have found a male as kind as Hazlan?

The day couldn't be more beautiful. It's one of those warm days in the middle of winter when the sun shines bright, the sky is blue, and my breath doesn't even make smoke when I speak.

"I want to get to know you, mate ," I say with a smile. I love that word as fervently as I hated the word "wife." Wife meant possession, thing, something to be used and cast away. I have a feeling being a "mate" is going to be wonderful.

He stops walking and turns so we're facing each other. "I want that, too. Was it arrogant for me to bring this fur? To assume you would want to share it with me? We are truly mates and all I want is your happiness. We can wait as long as you like until you're comfortable with me."

"I want to know you in all ways, Hazlan."

"I'll tell you about my life. There's little to share."

I doubt there is much about his life he wants to tell me. I can imagine he would want to forget most of it. The last five years I was at the Works, I watched the slaves being beaten and used as beasts of burden.

Joseph took me to the children's barracks a few times. I saw enough to tell me all I needed to know about their treatment. Until they were old enough and strong enough to pull their weight, they were given half-rations.

I tried to explain that giving them full rations was not only more humane, it would make them strong enough to work sooner. It would actually save the Works money, though that wasn't why I suggested it. I got backhanded for the audacity of speaking my mind. As far as human males are concerned, women have nothing to add to any conversation.

When Hazlan tells me he was stolen when he was five, taken to the Works, and thrown into a children's barracks, it's all I need to know. He doesn't need to go into detail about the starvation or the lashings or the forced labor.

I wonder why he was in the cage in the middle of the compound. It's reserved for males who rebel. Joseph never mentioned why Hazlan was there, and I certainly wasn't foolish enough to ask.

I won't ask Hazlan, either. Frankly, I like thinking he was rebellious. It takes courage to fight back when the people mistreating you have lasers. It makes me feel good to know my mate has the courage of a lion.

I don't want to bring up the other two males. Not now. There will be plenty of time to discuss our misfortune of being mated to two people we don't desire, even though I'll be eternally grateful they saved our lives. Right now, all I want to do is get to the stream and explore my proudborn.

"I should thank you, Hazlan, for the way you saved me that night in the cage. I know you couldn't mend my broken bones and internal injuries, but you soothed me. And the story you told, about making love by the stream, allowed me to tolerate your touch when every inch of my body was in pain."

"Call me Haz, Lylah. It will be the special name you call me because you're my true mate. And I consider it an honor that you allowed me to mate you when you knew nothing more about me than my name."

"And that you were kind," I say.

He drops the fur on the ground so he can scoop me into his embrace. Tears gather in my eyes as I marvel at the respect in his touch, the sheer affection in his gaze. How could I not develop feelings for a male who looks at me as though I'm the most important thing in his world?