Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Doesn’t feel like me anymore, that symbol, but I think I’d like something there. “I think I’m going to tattoo my finger in the morning,” I tell him. “I heard that if you rub ash into a mark, it’ll leave a permanent stain. I think I’ll try it out.”
Skarr’s hand lazily trails up and down my spine. “You can tattoo me, too.”
“I have to make sure it’s going to work, first,” I tell him, grinning. “But I can try it. What sort of tattoo do you want?”
He shrugs, his body rippling under me. “What are you going to have?”
I hold my index finger up to him, pointing at the side of it. “I’m going to put a tiny cat scratch here. Just to remind me that I’m in charge of my own fate.”
Skarr slides his hand down my backside, giving my butt a squeeze. “Perhaps you can put your name on me.”
That makes me pause. “You want my name on you?”
“Why not? You are the best thing that has happened to me. Is it wrong to want to wear your brand proudly?”
“We’ll talk about it,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss him again. Maybe just a small V somewhere on his body, because I don’t want the others noticing. I like our secrets. I like having things that are just ours.
There’s plenty of time to decide, though. We have all the time in the world.
Epilogue
VIVI
Flor’s wedding feast is the biggest party that they’ve thrown on the beach, Elly tells me from our spot at the edge of the group. Elly’s like me in that she likes to quietly hang out on the fringe of things, and I’ve noticed her and her mate saving a spot for us near the back of the seats around the main fire. It’s nice to have a friend, and even nicer that Bek and Skarr get along well. It’s also nice to know that others get exhausted by being social and aren’t afraid to leave a party early.
Skarr is in his element, though. I watch from my seat near Elly, sipping a bit of hot tea as he gestures, telling a story about a battle he won. Pak and Rukhar are seated in front of him, listening intently. Z’hren has his thumb in his mouth, one of his other hands clutching his tiny spear as if he can’t decide whether or not he wants to fight along with the story or if it scares him.
Bek returns to Elly’s side, their daughter tucked under his arm. He brings her a bowl loaded with food and sits down with a scowl on his face. “I still do not understand why everyone keeps calling it a ding ding feast.”
“It’s because of Liz,” Elly tells him in her soft voice.
“Enough said.” He settles his daughter on his thigh, pulling a chunk of root out of Elly’s bowl and blowing on it before handing it to little Emma to gnaw on. He glances over at me. “You and your mate did not see any of the Ancestors when you were out in the mountains?”
I shake my head. “All we saw were snow-cats.”
It’s a bit of a lie. We only saw the one snow-cat, and less of him than I’d liked. We’d remained out in the mountains for another day, looking for the wounded cat. When we’d returned the next morning he’d been gone, a chewed leather strap the only thing remaining in the spot we’d left him at. I’d fretted over that, worried he was going to chew off the splint and ruin our hard work. I haven’t seen him since, but I’ve been out in the hills, looking for tracks every day since. And while I don’t know for sure if my snow-cat is still in the area, I haven’t seen the drag-marks again. Once, I saw snow-cat tracks that looked as if it was favoring one leg slightly, the spacing between the paws off, but not necessarily injured. I like to tell myself that it’s him, and that he’s doing better. I might never know the truth, but I’m at peace with it.
We gave him a second chance, it’s up to him to take it.
Skarr and I expected to get a lot of grief about being away from camp for days, but not long after we returned, more strangers arrived. Two of them were missing tribespeople named Tia and R’jaal, and they brought with them a handful of four-armed strangers. More aliens, these from an underground village. It’s enough to make a human’s head spin. They’re here at the feast, too. They don’t speak the language, so there’s a lot of gesturing to try and include them in conversations.
“Do you want a wedding feast like this, Vivi?” Elly asks me, taking a delicate bite of meat.
My eyes widen at the thought. “God, no. Flor likes attention, and I bet she loves this party. That’s not my thing, though.”