Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I glance over at Sasha again. She casts another look of affection up to Dakh, clearly in a conversation with him. Then she sits down across from us again and relaxes, picking up another cookie. "I should have you guys come over more often to babysit," she tells us with tired amusement. "I'd love to have some time to just sit and read a book, and that's hard to do with a new baby. When she sleeps, I want to sleep too."
We can stay. I will hold her all night, Mhal tells me happily. His thoughts are so…content right now. No wonder Dakh has “settled” like Sasha said. It's hard to see this and not want a baby, just to give Mhal the boost of mental clarity. I remind myself that the baby would be its own person, though, and it's more than just a quick fix. It's an absolute change of how we live our lives. I want to think it through logically and not be directed by impulse.
So I glance over at Sasha. "How do you feel about Lord Azar and his little plan?"
She shrugs a shoulder. "He can plan all he wants. We're not going back to Fort Dallas. I won't take my family anywhere near him."
"Do you believe the others when they say something is coming through the Rift, then?" I'm curious.
Sasha nods, her expression grim. "I believe it. I've felt it. If you get pregnant, you'll feel it, too. It's like it talks to you when you're expecting." She shudders delicately, and above us, Dakh gets agitated.
"You think that his plan will work? To have the babies somehow seal the Rift shut?"
"I don't know if it's his plan," Sasha admits, "Or if he's just piggybacking on their natural inclinations. I do know that from the moment Luminoura was born, she's protected both myself and Dakh. The moment the thing in the Rift tries to enter our dreams, she blots it out. So do I think Azar is going to be the linchpin in things? No. I think he's just trying to get as many people to have babies as possible, because he wants to save his own hide."
"Are you going to let Luminoura help, then?"
Sasha chuckles. "That's cute. You've felt Luminoura's mind through your mate. You think I could stop her?"
She has a point.
33
JENNY
We stay until late. Sasha makes dinner, a simple meat mix with a bit of fresh zucchini and onion from her patio garden tossed in with the spices. Mhal holds the baby the entire time, and talks with Dakh in tendrils of conversation that drift in and out of my own conversations with Sasha.
I've never really gotten to know Sasha well. I saw her around Fort Dallas, but didn't know her. Sasha is an absolute bookworm and loves romance novels especially. She pushes her favorites on me, gushing about the characters in a book she's read a half-dozen times. She offers a few books to loan to me, but only if I promise to bring them back, and when we finally leave, it's with full bellies, new friends, and a reading list.
This time, when Mhal shifts to his battle-form, he's not even that disoriented. He remembers me after only a moment's confusion, and then he flies us home, mind-touching with Luminoura and Dakh as we go. I like them, he tells me. I would like to visit again. I have not had friends before.
But you were Queen's Guard, remember?
That was different. Our loyalties were only to the queen. We were not encouraged to be friendly with one another.
The more he tells me about his Queen's Guard days, the less it sounds like a noble honor and the more it sounds like the queen was just using them as convenient bodyguards. I try to keep that thought to myself, but Mhal picks it out anyhow.
He doesn't like it, but he doesn't say I'm wrong, either.
When we land in our “nest,” I can't help but compare it to Sasha's cozy place back in the other building. I liked my shack before, but now it feels…well, like a shack. The wind whips at us, chilly this evening, and when I step into my makeshift hut atop the walkway, the walls rattle and some of the wind whistles in from the big cracks along the walls. It strikes me as very temporary, this home.
It also strikes me as the worst place to raise a baby. It's like I'm seeing everything with new eyes. Before, I viewed it all from a lens of “good enough.” Am I comfortable? Good enough. Do I have food to eat? Good enough. Water to drink? Enough to bathe? Something to wear? Good enough.
But good enough won't work for a baby. Good enough won't work long-term.
I realize I'm still living in the moment. I'm not thinking ahead to tomorrow, or the next year, or ten years down the line. If I live in the moment, this home—this life—is good enough.