“Yes.” His wild thing blew out a slow breath and nodded. “I okay with this.”
It all had to be so strange, but she was as brave as ever. Grif would have cheered, but his throat was too tight.
She chewed on her lip. “You watch Sharluff?”
He hid a groan. “Of course.” Good thing the creature’s leash was tied fast to a sturdy rock, anchored by knots Grif had triple-checked could not come undone. “Have fun.”
A few clicks and hand gestures in Sharluff’s direction, another small smile for him, and Nayla was on her way, her smaller form soon swallowed up by the others as they clustered around her and led her toward the females’ tent.
His chest went tight.
Every nerve inside him shrieked in protest. Help me. He hadn’t been vigilant enough when he was young and look where that had gotten him. But he wanted Nayla to have what she wanted, too.
Behind him, he heard Sharluff’s pitiful growls and some chuffing that sounded a lot like get back here and pet me. He knew the feeling. Who would have known he and the feathery beast would have something in common?
He’d envisioned that protecting Nayla would mean having her by his side twenty-four seven, at least at the start. Now, he was beginning to see it meant letting her go way sooner than expected.
It was harder than he thought it would be.
32
“Are you thirsty?”
Nayla shook her head.
The other females had led her to a tent made up of a patchwork of coverings sewn together. She had no trouble standing in the center, but the tallest female’s head skimmed the ceiling. Clothing and blankets had been pushed to the side to give them a small area in which to stand.
Talg would have beaten them for speaking to him as they had to Grif and the other males. These bold females had not only avoided punishment but gotten their way. She stood in awe of their courage and strength.
“Hungry?”
“No.”
The females exchanged a look, their lips pressed tight, creating the same kind of lines she had on the bridge of her nose. She wondered what she was doing wrong.
She was finally a part of something and she did not want to ruin it.
“I’m Britta. We’re here for you.” The tall female with hair the color of the reddest cliffs stepped forward, her expression kind. “To give you support in any way.”
Nayla nodded. She tried not to stare. It was all so different. The scents, the coverings, the way the people interacted. The red-haired Britta held herself in much the same way as the hunters in her pack. Like Lana, she did not appear to be afraid to take up space or speak her thoughts. It was extraordinary to see in a female, but also a little frightening.
More familiar was the quieter reticence of the dark-haired female named Cam.
Nayla nodded in greeting as each was introduced.
It was a shock to realize how clear the differences among the Others were to her now. In the past, they had all struck her as indistinguishable violent savages.
After time spent with Grif, that was no longer the case. Without prejudice to cloud her vision, she could see that the males and females were as varied in character and looks as those within her own pack.
It was fascinating. It was also hard. Because acknowledging their individuality meant recognizing what she’d done was so much worse than she’d initially realized. Raised on Talg’s lies, she’d been certain she was playing a part in wiping out the faceless vermin that threatened pack existence.
Now, it was hitting home that the females she’d taken were individuals with their own stories, ambitions, and personalities.
The guilt pressed in, making it hard to breathe.
Because of her, those females were in danger.
“You don’t need to be afraid.” The gentle observation from Lana jerked Nayla from her thoughts.
“We do not intend to pressure you in anyway.” The female named Cam used the same soothing tones Nayla did with Sharluff when her beast was upset.
They crowded closer.
Nayla fought not to run.
They were far from hostile, but there was something expectant in the air that made her nervous.
She swallowed hard. She could not think of the last time she’d had so many eyes on her. She was usually under her anazi, ignored by pack. Even Grif’s intense focus had felt different. He’d told her the rules up front. Been honest and clear about his intentions from the start.
She had no idea what these females wanted. She could feel old instincts clawing at her, the desperate need for approval welling within.
The sense that she was not enough pressed heavier and heavier against her skin, as if the anazi was still on her shoulders, smothering her, wiping away the strong part of her that Grif had helped her to see.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lana, the female with rich brown curls that had spoken with such anger moved closer, her tone gentle. “You’re safe here. You can tell us anything.”
Nayla swallowed hard. She had no idea what they were so keen to discuss.
“I used to think Grif was so wonderful.” Lana’s lips pressed hard together. “I-I thought he was a real hero. The best of men.” Her expression crumpled. “I am so sorry.”
Nayla started. They wanted to discuss Grif? She had not expected that. “He not perfect…”
“Not perfect? Hah.” The red-haired Britta slammed her hands onto her hips. “Lana told us everything. You don’t have to pretend. H-he may look handsome and strong, but now we know. Inside, he’s a monster.”
“He traumatized you,” said Cam.
“He made you feel dirty and used,” added Lana. “He made you feel like you were nothing.”
Had he?
Never.
The opposite was true. Yes, she’d been scared of Grif at first. She’d also been terrified of the unwanted sensations he’d forced on her, but once the fear was gone, what she’d experienced was something altogether different.
She’d been seen. Listened to. Cared for. There had been awe at being touched and being able to touch in return. She’d felt connected to him in ways she’d never imagined were possible.
At the remembrance, the strange softness in her chest that was just for Grif expanded in depth and size, burning brighter.
“I will be reporting him to the commander once the mission is over and the missing females are safe.” Lana patted her shoulder. “I recognize that we live in an ugly, dangerous world, but we can’t become like them. We have to be better than the monsters.”
“There has to be some way you can be shielded from seeing your tormentor every rotation.” Cam crowded closer on her other side.
Not see Grif? Nayla’s stomach twisted. Said aloud, the idea horrified her. She’d gotten used to his touches, the intensity of his gaze, the way he cared for her. To have learned what she was missing and then be without it now would be a thousand times worse than before.
“Grif not bad one.” She wished her New English was better, but nerves made it even harder for her to find the right words. “He trying to do everything to save other females like you.”
Britta’s scowl deepened. “Yes, but—”
She didn’t let the female finish. “He care more than anyone what happens to females. In my pack, females less than males, and ones like me, next to nothing. Not to Grif. He do whatever it takes to save those he believe in danger. I-I think he is hero.”