Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I continue to tend the wounds I can tend, listening to Azlan’s brothers as they begin to bicker, guilt driving their desire to find some reason why this is not their fault, even though it is clearly not their fault.
“We were too late in returning,” Kain says. “He took advantage of our departure.”
“Perhaps all three of us did not need to leave the entire population unguarded,” Skol says with a dry bitterness that suggests it was not his idea for them all to leave.
“What would one of us have done against Leonidas’ armies? What would all of us done against his shock troops?”
“We could have stood between him and the women. We could have stopped…”
“We couldn’t have stopped fucking anything,” Kain says, bitter. “Leonidas has all the war tech, as well as warriors that outfight the peaceful males who live here.”
He says peaceful like it is a slur.
I finish doing what I can for the wounded Leonid male I am working on and lift my head to look around for the next wounded creature. I do not have to look far. I see a pair of small, fuzzy ears sticking out from behind a rock.
My heart sinks. They are not big enough to belong to an adult Leonid. I remember what Azlan said about what happens to cubs when a new alpha enters the picture.
“No. No. Please…” I am whispering to myself as I approach the rock.
“Hey there, little guy.” I make my voice soft and gentle. “Are you alright? Let me help you.”
A pair of big blue eyes slowly becomes visible over the line of the rock. I am not good at telling how old Leonids are, but I’d guess somewhere around eight to ten or so, if he were human.
“Is he gone?” he asks the question in a whisper.
“He’s gone,” I assure him. “Don’t worry. Azlan’s here now. Come on. Let me help you.”
“Help my friends first,” he says in a soft but brave tone.
“Your friends?”
I approach him slowly, walking around the large rock to find that it is not a mere rock. It is a decoy of sorts, and there is a hole dug out beneath it, quite deep into the soil.
The hollow is absolutely stuffed with boys. A few of them are holding even younger cubs, some of them only a few days old. They are all looking at me with wide, frightened eyes.
I have noted that the Leonids look at me as an animal. In this moment, I look at them in much the same way. I see animal suffering and human suffering mixed together in a way that wrenches at my core.
“Hi,” I say, crouching near the mouth of the hole. “I’m Ava. I’m here to help. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
Half the young cubs burst into tears hearing that little bit of reassurance. They’ve been strong all the while they hid, no doubt hearing terrible things going on above them.
“Azlan!” I call out for my mate. He needs to come. They need to see him and know that they are safe. They’re probably scared to death of me. I must look very strange to them.
While I wait for Azlan to come, I try to settle the cubs. One by one they crawl up out of the hole, all of them cuddling close to me. I may not be a Leonid, but I do provide the adult presence they need.
The babies are crying, held in the arms of befuddled older males who have not worked out what to do with them.
I have always been responsible. It feels natural to intervene now. I take a squalling cub from the male holding it out to me. It is a heavy weight in my hands, all fuzzy and wide eyed and bawling with angry rage.
“Azlan!”
I call for him as I lead the young ones out from the rock where they hid. Finally, he seems to hear me, and comes over to see the state of the little ones.
Azlan is accompanied by a small contingent of males, some of whom greet the young cubs as their family. It is a moment of great relief for some, and misery for others as they realize their mothers and fathers are no longer here.
“They hid the cubs when he came, to spare them. But now they will starve,” one of the Leonid males says. “There is no milk.”
I feel something like rage flash through me, anger, but with a greater purpose.
“They absolutely will not starve,” I insist.
I have already spotted a nearby goatherd, or creatures that look like animals anyway. They are penned in a large area and look a sort of wary kind of domesticated. Not tame, but not entirely wild.
“Are those goats?”
“Yes,” Azlan says.
“Tell me some of them are in milk.”
He looks at me blankly.
“They’ve had kids that they’re feeding. Babies. Goat cubs,” I elaborate.