Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I say.
Maybe he does understand my concept of love because my answer makes his smile grow.
“Zawla,” he whispers as his hand comes up to stroke my cheek. “I love Selina.”
Tears gather in my eyes and everything inside of me wants to kiss him, hold him, and never let go. But first, I need to clean him up, treat what wounds I can, and get us to the Hallans. The horns have never ceased but the cries have. Does that mean they’ve landed? Because if they have, I am sure they’ve been met by The New Order, the same way I saw Bothaki was when he crashed into the sea.
I set the kit down and open it, thankful that it doesn’t look like anything is missing. Immediately, I use the bottle of sterilized water to clean Bothaki’s face and hand of as much blood as I can. With what inch or so of water remains at the bottom, I swish it in my mouth until the taste of vomit and bile is gone. The first thing I grab after discarding the empty bottle is the peroxide and some gauze.
“I’m sorry. This will hurt.”
He just nods and sets his jaw. I clean the bloody spots where his claws used to be. Then, I move on to his chest and abdomen. My father had tried to remove the square that Bothaki’s suit extended from, but no matter how hard he pulled or twisted, it wouldn’t come off. So he began to cut away the skin around it, telling some of the soldiers to store the pieces of flesh so it could be studied later on, not that it ever will be now. I wipe away more blood along his cheek, dried in some places, and in others, still streaming, although, at a much slower pace now. I’m too afraid to try to do much with the gaping hole where his eyes once was. While he hasn’t made a sound as I’ve cleaned everything else, when I tread too close to his eye, I feel his muscles twitching, and then his hands ball into fists. It’s the hitch of his breath, and how he holds it, that tells me just how much pain he’s truly in but hiding it well. I go back into the bag and get tape to secure a few pieces of gauze over his eye. I place bandages over his other wounds where it’s most needed, and begin to close the kit, but he stops me.
He pushes the lid wide open again and gets out gauze and the peroxide. I watch in confusion as he pours some onto the gauze, then I check him over, looking for some wound I missed. But I go still when I feel the gauze come to my forehead, where my father struck me earlier. He’s caring for me when he’s the one who needs it most. I hiss at the burn of the peroxide though, and he starts to pull it away.
“No, it’s okay,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“I can take care of you.”
But the way he says it makes me think he’s trying to convince me.
“I know you can.”
He looks down like he doesn’t believe that within himself, and I begin to reach for him, but a roar splits the air. Bothaki’s eye widens in alarm and he hurries to stand.
“We must get to the water now.”
I grab what remains of the first aid kit and link my hand with his extended one.
“What was that?” I question as I point him in the right direction, and he begins running.
When I struggle to keep up, he stops and puts his hands to my waist. He pauses, like he’s waiting for my permission. I don’t know what in the hell for, but if it involves his hands on me, then there’s no way I’d tell him no.
“Go on.”
I gasp as he swings me onto his back. My arms go around his neck, his braids against my cheek, and his hands hold onto my thighs. He takes off running and I just point when he needs to turn.
“That was Halun,” he finally tells me.
“Halun?”
“That sound was Halun. My …”
He’s searching for a word, I know.
“Father?” He shakes his head. But the roar definitely sounded manly, so I ask, “Brother?”
“Yes.”
“And that sound was …”
“His rage.”
Something is happening at the shore, and I have no idea what Bothaki and I are walking into. But as we crest one of the dunes that separates the field from the beach, I look over my shoulder to my father’s house. A sea of black men storm it. No, we don’t know what awaits us on the shore, but going back isn’t an option, either.
*
My body is in agony. I feel the rip of all my wounds with each and every movement. I feel raw, from the pieces of skin that were stripped from my body, from where the shackles cut into me deeper each time I struggled against them, from how I can feel my missing claws with my fingers wrapped around Selina’s thighs. Where my eye used to be aches like no pain I’ve ever felt before, the thing Selina’s placed against it burns each time it moves. But I refuse to reach up and remove it, to have my mate think I’m rejecting her way of healing me. I don’t have a moment to waste slowing down anyway. Not when my brother’s roar is still echoing in my mind.