When a Moth loved a Bee

Girl

I JOINED THE NHIL PEOPLE the next night—just as the sun died a brilliant death of reds and golds, casting its sunset over the plains with its sky-blazing power. I stood blinking at the swirls and swathes of colour, feeling utterly inconsequential and terribly, terribly alone.

It didn’t matter that I was surrounded by incredible people.

They weren’t my people.

If they were, I would remember them…wouldn’t I?

If it were true that my kin were related to them—that I spoke the same tongue as them—surely, someone would recognise me? Some wanderer or trader who travelled between clans could give me a name at least? Shed light on my history that stayed so stubbornly forgotten.

I sighed and drank in the sunset. Its fiery blaze hitched my heart, sending a crippling wave of homesickness through me.

Homesickness for what?

For who?

Argh, stop it.

Swiping at the dampness on my cheeks, I sniffed up my tears.

I was so sick of crying.

I was more exhausted coming back from the dead than I had been in all the moons I’d walked alone.

Gritting my teeth, I tripped away from Solin’s lupic. Cursing my wobbling legs, I hated being so frail and weak compared to the happy, laughing people ringing the large fire in the centre of the camp.

My eyes scanned the village, taking in the many other lupics, spearing into the darkening sky with their bison-hide walls. The largest one sat at the top of the clearing. Reed mats were scattered outside, and river boulders were arranged in a circle as if offering a place for people to sit, chat, and share.

Other members walked from lupic to lupic, their hands full of things I couldn’t name, doing tasks I didn’t understand.

Some had skin as black as the night, some were a rich honey, while others were as white as the heart of a flame. Some were tall and others short, some were stocky and others as slim as reeds, yet they all flowed as one—so at ease with each other, sharing the same purpose.

My stomach clenched for that.

My heart bled for that.

For someone I’d once loved but now had lost…

I moved closer toward the large fire, glowing merrily in the centre. Orange flames danced over the differences in skin and hair colour as the sky deepened into darkness.

The scent of roasting food made my mouth water as I forced my brittle legs to shuffle a few more paces.

A girl looked up from her task of chopping something juicy and red, her ebony face splitting into a wide smile. “You’re alive!” Stabbing the bone knife she’d been using into the dirt, she swooped to her feet and crossed the small clearing. “I’m so glad the herbs worked, and you’re no longer sick.”

I blinked as she came close enough to touch me.

Her fingers cupped my elbow in friendship, but I flinched as if she shouldn’t. My heart seized at the thought of something bad happening from her touch. Something disastrous that would smite all these wonderful people who’d taken me in and given me a second chance.

I hunched and looked at the sky.

“A-Are you okay?” The girl released me. “I didn’t mean to upset you by touching you.”

I shook my head, struggling to drop my stare from the awakening stars.

Nothing happened.

Nothing bad or wrong.

Why am I so worried?

What sort of past did I have that a simple thing like touch drove me straight to fear?

“I’m the one who should apologise.” Forcing a smile, I looked properly at her face. “I didn’t mean to…oh…it’s you.”

I stilled.

A nudge of remembrance lit up my mind, proving that I could remember certain things.

Niya.

The girl who’d found me, fought for me, saved me. The girl with dark eyes and dark skin. Her long pretty hair was currently tucked behind her ears, cascading over her shoulders with a lone sparrow feather knotted in the strands.

My heart swelled with gratefulness. Despite my fear of this new life and my constant emptiness for what I’d misplaced, without her, I would still be by that river’s edge—a pile of bones after the wolves had gnawed them clean.

“Don’t worry if you’re not ready to speak just yet,” Niya said softly. “This must all be so overwhelming.”

Biting my bottom lip, I twisted my fingers, trying to arrange my mess of words into something cohesive. “T-Thank you,” I murmured. “For saving me.” My eyes widened, worried she might have forgotten what an incredible thing she’d done. “By the river. Y-You saved me. I would’ve been eaten if you had not—”

“Hey…” She interrupted me with another grin that crinkled her eyes and made my heart flutter at her welcome. “Of course, I remember. And I would do it all over again.” Smiling wider, she added, “I’m grateful Solin and the healers were able to help you.”

“I was sick?”

I vaguely recalled the surly man named Kivva worrying about sickness and refusing to take me to their clan.

“Ah, I see you’ve found her.” Solin appeared from the heavy dusk, the fur around his waist now adorned with a belt of twisted reeds and shells. In his right hand, he carried a staff like Kivva had when I’d first been found. Unlike Kivva’s, Solin’s wasn’t just decorated with vines and leaves but the skull of an animal with ivory fangs and empty eye sockets.

He caught me staring at it and shook the stick, making it rattle. “The head of an infant lynx. We found the den by accident a few moons ago. Two pups were already dead, and a third was ice cold with barely a heart murmur.” He sighed and stroked the skull. “The mother had died from fevers. The third cub would die if we did nothing. So…we helped it, just like we helped you.”

Niya suddenly whistled, piercing the falling night.

I jolted and almost tripped over my frail and wobbly legs.

Solin’s hand lashed out and caught my elbow, waiting for me to find my balance. “I wonder if it’s wise for you to be out of your furs so soon.” His fingers bit into my flesh, fighting my sway to keep me standing.

“I-I’m fine.” I smiled thinly, cringing as Niya whistled again.

Solin lowered his voice. “Whatever you’re afraid of, it cannot find you here.” His voice was as rich as the darkness surrounding us. “It’s okay to trust in us. You’re safe.” He continued to hold me, and I swallowed against the strange discomfort of someone touching me. Once again, something deep and dark cowered within my heart, awaiting disaster.

But nothing happened.

Nothing hurt me or them and Solin studied me as if I’d lost my mind at the river.

Exhaling heavily, I forced myself to give him a faint smile. “I am…” I frowned, repeating a word that I’d used a lot. “Sorry.” I shrugged. “I don’t mean to be so…”

“Jumpy?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Yes.” I nodded. “Jumpy.” I threw a look at Niya, who paced away a little, pursing her lips into another piercing whistle.

“You’re permitted to be on edge,” Solin said gently. “We don’t know what you endured before we found you. Has any of your past returned to you?”

I tensed and shook my head. The words to apologise once again clung to my tongue.

“That’s okay,” Solin said, clutching his lynx-skull staff. “The flames will tell me soon enough. Either you will remember or the fire will gift a vision. One day, you will know.”

My heart beat thickly with hope. “Thank you.” I lowered my chin, brushing the furs covering my nakedness. The furs that Hyath had made me. The sensation of being covered and warm felt so different after stumbling in the rain and being cold with nothing for so long.

Pulling the chest piece a little higher, I blushed, hoping he didn’t think I fussed with what he’d given me because I was ungrateful. It wasn’t his fault the two pieces were slightly too big for my malnourished frame.

I caught his eyes, rushing with words, “Thank you…for the dressings.”

“Clothing,” he corrected with a gentle grin. “And you’re welcome. Hyath has become very proficient at curing skins so they’re incredibly soft to wear. Her mother had the honour of making the matrimonial gown for Tiptu when she wed Tral twenty years ago. Hyath has picked up the same gift her mother had.”

“Matri…moneeeal?” I stumbled over the new word.

“Marriage,” Niya said, returning to us with a scowl. “That stubborn cub is ignoring me.” Glancing into the darkness and peering impatiently around the fire, she finally shrugged and dragged her attention back to Solin and me. “Marriage or matehood is a ceremony to declare love and commitment. They did it to commit to each other but also to assure the clan that they will watch over us as one.”

“They are our chief and chiefess,” Solin added. “I serve as their Fire Reader, but they are tasked with bringing constant prosperity and security to our people.”

“You will meet them tonight,” Niya said. “Just like I hope you’ll meet Syn. It’s the full moon, and we always celebrate the full moon to bring luck for the next month.”

Something golden and spotted galloped toward us, white fangs gleaming with firelight and glistening yellow eyes that saw straight through the dark. With a roar, it leaped the final distance. Paws spread, claws sharp, its body twisting with graceful strength.

My knees buckled.

Solin caught me.

And Niya wrapped her arms around the animal, burying her face into its gold and black pelt. Stub-like antlers sprouted from its head while its tail split into two, whipping in all directions as the air came alive with loud vibrations.

“Are you purring, you baby beast?” Niya laughed. “You look so terrifying, yet you act like a cuddly mouse.” Standing upright, she kept her hand on the cat’s spotted shoulders as it twined around her thighs.

“This is Syn.” Niya patted the cat’s head, tugging on a tiny antler. “She’s still a youngling but is already bigger than most of the lynxes around the plains.” Her smile deepened as the cat headbutted her thigh. “I think it’s because she gets fed by everyone and has her choice of any lupic to sleep in.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the predator. At her knowing yellow eyes and wicked-sharp fangs.

“She won’t hurt you,” Solin murmured. “She’s tame. Our intention was to save her like we saved you and give her the choice to return to her family, or at least find her own kind, but…” He shrugged. “She decided to stay.” He grinned as the cat rubbed herself against him, grabbing his staff in her sharp-toothed mouth, grumbling a little growl when he tapped her on the head to release it. “She knows that mortals are not food. We are her pack. She also knows that she’s not the leader of this pack. Don’t you, Syn?”

With a snort, the lynx let his staff go, her twin tails flicking left and right in strange harmony.

She turned to face me.

I stiffened as her eyes locked with mine.

The happy glow in her gaze switched to lethal intrigue.

I couldn’t look away.

Couldn’t stop staring.

Couldn’t stop the rise of something vast inside me.

The lynx braced herself, her mouth opening as if to drag my taste along her tongue.

Her eyes snapped closed.

But then they opened, and her haunches sank.

I knew her intention as surely as if she’d spoken.

I tripped back a step.

“Don’t worry.” Solin held up his hand. “She won’t—”

She leaped for me.

Her giant paws landed on my shoulders, and her weight slammed me to the ground. I gasped as all the air in my lungs vanished. I cried out as the lynx pinned me down, her whiskers tickling my cheeks as her cool, wet nose pressed to mine.

It felt like a kill.

Like an embrace.

My heart pounded as my hands sank into her dense fur, and the cat growled as if my touch physically hurt her.

“Syn, get off her at once,” Niya shouted, tugging on the cat’s antlers.

But it did no good.

The lynx merely lay down over me, blanketing my entire body with her golden-spotted heat.

My pulse raced in every finger and toe as I fought my instincts to fight. Instead, I pressed my hands deeper into her downy fur and locked every muscle beneath her.

The cat let out a low whine. A cry. A whimper.

The sound arrowed through my heart, and I found myself crying with her. Giant tears rolled down my cheeks, unbidden and without reason. Raising her head, she pressed her nose to mine, breathing my breath, staring into my eyes.

And the world fell away.

The starry night disappeared.

The fire and the clan were no more.

It was just me and Syn, locked in place where golden light surrounded us. Bright, blazing light that glowed and warmed and whispered of wicked, archaic power.

It felt…familiar.

Right.

Home.

His kiss tasted like moonlight and honey—

I gasped.

My tears turned into a river as the lynx tenderly licked my salt-wetted cheeks with her gentle-coarse tongue. Purrs rumbled in her chest. She nuzzled my chin, and I wrapped both arms around her, hugging her so, so tight.

She huffed and buried her face into my neck, kneading my shoulders with her paws, pinpricking my skin with her claws.

Something swelled between us.

Something full of recognition and importance, rife with answers and—

“Get off her!” Solin snatched the beast around her waist and threw her off me.

The moment shattered.

I was disoriented and confused.

Syn growled and whipped her tails, throwing me a beseeching look while hissing at Solin. And then she was gone, bounding around Niya, and leaping into the thick swaying grasses that ringed the outskirts of the camp.

For a moment, no one moved.

I sucked in a shaky breath, wiping away my nonsense tears.

Solin reached down and grabbed my wrist. “I don’t know why she did that.” Without warning, he jerked me to my feet and steadied me. “Are you okay?”

I swayed, but this time, it wasn’t from malnourishment but because of the brief, intense connection I’d shared with a creature I’d only just met.

“I’m so sorry,” Niya said. “She’s never done that before. She knows not to tackle. She’ll be dealt with and—”

“No.” I shuddered at the thought of Syn being disciplined. “She meant me no harm. I’m well.”

Solin let my wrist go, his eyes scanning my body. “She reacted as if she knew you.” His head tilted to the side, sending his decorated braids sliding over his shoulders. “Did you come across a lynx before we found you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Never.”

Solin didn’t reply, but he didn’t stop studying me either, his thoughts full of things that worried me.

“Are you hungry?” Niya suddenly asked, breaking the tension that’d gathered. Clapping her hands to dispel the awkwardness, she added, “Come. We’ll eat, and then the rest of the clan wants to meet you.”

Solin didn’t say a word as Niya grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the fire.

I looked back over my shoulder.

Solin remained unmoving, his eyes narrowed on me, his lips pursed with questions.

His questions twisted my own, sending chills down my spine.

He looked at me as if he had no idea who I was.

And it terrified me that I didn’t know either.