by Casey Hays
I cherish every precious moment I have with him, and in our limited fashion, we begin to build our own little world of memories. And one night, those memories begin to involve the tiny life inside me.
I lie on my back next to Chad. He’s propped on his side, and he reaches out and lays his hand over the very slight bump that has begun to protrude from my belly.
“When he’s born, will you bring him here?” he asks.
“Yes.” I smile, and then I check him. “He?”
He shrugs. “Or she. I don’t really care as long as I get to see her.” He pauses. “I’ve never seen a baby that I can recall.”
I lay my hand on top of his. “You’ll see this one,” I promise.
It strikes me quite suddenly that this is our baby. We did this, and just as Diana held Tabitha in her arms, there will come a day when I will hold this little life in the same way.
Tabitha had Diana’s blue eyes and blonde curls. And what of my baby? If it is a boy, will he have Chad’s dusty hair and crooked smile? Will our girl carry my bronzed skin and height? Or will the child be a combination of both of our best features?
Until now, I’ve never pondered these things. It didn’t matter what features a child had as long as the Council approved. They thoroughly examine each baby, and the lucky ones receive a nod of approval.
Chad brushes his fingers across my stomach, and I meet his hand in the middle. I suddenly want the mark of approval more than I can express. Something else nudges me, too. A small pinch of dangerous desire—to keep this baby with me forever. I swallow, hoping it goes away.
I toy with Chad’s token tied around my thumb, an uneasiness overtaking me. This child has become something more, and the idea of weaning it and simply passing it on to the nursery—something I have been prepared to do all my life—suddenly seems so distasteful.
I can’t think about it. Instead, I let myself envision the three of us snuggled together inside the cave or enjoying the sunshine by the river—Chad and I raising our child together. Kate talked about this, too. Family. I shunned her, then. Now, I only wish she was here to make it happen.
I sigh, long and heavy.
“What is it?” Chad asks.
“Nothing,” I shake my head. “Life is just so… complicated.”
“Not in here,” he whispers, and I laugh.
“Not in here,” I repeat. I brush my fingers across his lips. “You know that feeling in your chest?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s called…” I take a deep breath, and a fist tightens over my chest. “Love.”
His breathing steadies beside me.
“I love you, Chad.”
After this, he nuzzles into my neck, his whiskers tickling my skin. “I knew that even before you did.”
I smile. And I believe him.
*
I’ve barely stepped out of my hogan the next morning before Ash comes storming up to me, flanked by three council members… and Daija.
“You!” she screeches, wagging a slender finger in my face. Stunned, I slide back a pace. “What did you do to that dog?”
She shoves a stringy strand of her straight, blonde hair out of her face, her blue eyes fuming, while I try to make sense of her outrage. And then, the truth hits me in the gut. My entire body goes numb.
They’ve paired Chad with Ash.
The shock of this revelation sends my heart to beating rapidly against my chest, and I take in a sharp breath. I clutch my stomach, feel the comforting swelling of my abdomen, but even this doesn’t soothe me.
“Well?” Her voice is sharp, clipping at me. “What do you have to say? No amount of beating bent his behavior.”
“You hit him?” I narrow my eyes.
“Mia.”
I turn. It’s only then that I notice Leah among the three council members. She stretches her hand. “Come with me. We should talk.”
“Talk?” Ash hisses. “She deserves a lashing for this.”
“That’s enough, Ash,” Leah reprimands, and Ash begrudgingly falls into silence.
Numbly, I move forward. Daija sneers, a satisfied gleam in her eye. She steps up to stand beside Ash and whispers—loud enough for me to hear—that I’ll be dead before sundown. Ash’s lip curls into a sneer, and they stand shoulder to shoulder in a united front. Daija laughs, and I long to slap the smug look right off her face.
“Don’t you have a boar to skin or something?” I snap. She doesn’t move, but her eyes narrow fiercely.
“Come, Mia,” Leah takes my elbow firmly. She addresses the other two council members. “I’ll handle this.” She offers me a gentle smile. “Mia and I have a special understanding.”
They each nod and leave to tend to other business. Leah keeps a firm almost painful, hold on me, moving rapidly up the path toward the Great Hall. The women congregating outside of their hogans watch us curiously, but I keep my eyes forward.
I’m in serious trouble I fear.
Leah takes me to a private room inside the Great Hall. My knees suddenly weak, I sink onto a stool. I’m shaking terribly. She pours me a cup of water from a pitcher on a corner table. I take it with trembling hands and gulp every bit down without a pause, mostly to stall the inevitable. She situates a stool in front of me and sits.
“Would you like to tell me anything?”
I clutch the cup. “Not particularly.”
Leah frowns. “This won’t go away, Mia. Your mate has refused an assignment, and we cannot stand for—”
“Why Ash?” I blurt, and I can’t hide the desperation from my voice. “Why does it have to be her?”
Leah, taken aback by my sudden outburst, leans away slightly, and her words are crisp and precise like long blades of pointy grass when she answers.
“It doesn’t matter who it is, Mia. Unruly stock are not spared.”
And just like that, I’m broken. The cup clunks to the floor, and I burst into tears. Leah raises her brows.
“Pull yourself together, girl.”
“Please, Leah,” I blubber horribly, my words muddled with tears. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll talk to him.” I grab for her hands in desperation. “I’ll make him comply. Just… don’t hurt him.”
Leah stares at me a long minute—processing. When she frees herself from my grip and stands briskly, I fear I’ve lost her trust in me completely. She crosses one arm over her chest, hooking her fingers into the crook of the opposite elbow, and she tugs on her lip nervously.
As for me, I’m ripped into two halves as my loyalty to the Village plays a dangerous tug-of-war with my sudden and strong instincts to protect Chad to the death. And the thought of death only prompts another wave of relentless sobbing as Leah paces the floor. Finally, she stops abruptly.
“What have you done, Mia?” Her voice drips with sheer concern, and I can tell from her tone that she’s on the verge of tears herself, which only makes my betrayal sting deeper. “I have always favored you for your faithful compliance in every situation. I’ve often said to the others that a village full of Mias would be a blessing, and they’ve agreed. But now this?” She rubs at her forehead in exasperation. “We’ve just begun to get the Village somewhat under control. We don’t need more trouble.”
My sobs have turned to gulping sniffles, and I nod furiously at her every word, so ashamed of my conduct. I don’t dare raise my eyes, keeping them dutifully pinned to the floor in utter respect. Leah sighs heavily and settles onto the stool, taking up my hands. Her fingers brush over Chad’s token. She lifts my hand to examine it with a frown, but to my relief, she leaves it be.
“So what are we to do?” she asks. “How do we correct this?”
“Let me talk to him,” I beg. Raising my head, I catch a glimpse of tenderness echoing cautiously in her eyes, and so I press her. “Please. He will listen to me.”
She reaches over and runs a thumb across my tear-stained cheek, wiping it clean.
“How long have you been conversing with your mate?”
I swallow. “A while.�
��
“You gave him your name?”
I nod.
“And he?”
I nod again. “He gave me his name.”
“And how much time have you spent at the Pit in the last few weeks?” When I don’t answer, Leah straightens, her disappointment evident in the shift of her shoulders.
“Well, this is not acceptable.” My only answer is a dribble of a tear racing over my cheekbone. Her eyes soften, as does her voice. “This is a very dangerous path you walk, Mia.”
“I know.” I sniffle once and loudly. “But you were not a breeder, Leah. You couldn’t possibly understand how things are for us.”
“Then enlighten me,” she says sharply. “Because I’m afraid I can’t help you, Mia. The Council will certainly not understand this.”
I raise my hands pleadingly. “The Council has to expect that these things can happen. Week after week I’ve gone to the Pit—for months. And what of Kate’s speech? You yourself said—”
“Stop.” She cuts me off. I bite my lip, and exasperated, she rubs at her temples. “Now I agree with Kate’s notion that… perhaps we should have a choice. Would I like to see some changes? Yes.” She peers at me. “But this does not mean that every aspect of the Village should be altered. And so, yes, week after week, you go to the Pit, and you should have one focus. It should not be to bond with a dog. Do you understand my meaning, girl?”
A puff of breath escapes me. I see then. Leah is afraid for the Council to know her mind. My shoulders sink.
“I understand. But sometimes—”
She lifts a brow. “Sometimes?”
“Sometimes… a heart can’t be stopped.”
“Well, you’d best find a way.”
My lip trembles. Leah presses her fingertips together end to end. Her eyes settle on me briefly before she shakes her head and stands, wringing her hands.
“I know I must sound harsh, and after what I said before—”
I raise my eyes expectantly.
“It just isn’t safe for you to violate so openly. Not now when we are on the verge of falling apart.”
“I understand,” I sniffle. “What will you do? Are you going to tell the Council?”
She’s quiet a moment.
“I shouldn’t allow it.” She finally says. She walks the length of the small room, wringing her hands, and my hope rises when she faces me. “But if we can salvage this—”
“We can.” I stand too quickly, upsetting the stool. It falls with a clunk and rocks back and forth on its edge. “Let me talk with him and, I will convince him,” I insist.
She studies me a moment. “If you cannot, the Council will have no choice but to dispose of him.”
“I understand.”
“We will go at once.” She holds up a warning finger. “And then, you will not return to the Pit again until you’re ordered to do so.”
I pause, meeting her gaze. She means it, and my heart surges as if a fist has reached straight through my chest cavity attempting to crush it, but I force myself to nod.
“I will do as you say.”
Satisfied, Leah gestures toward the door. I take two steps before I turn back.
“Why Ash, Leah? Of all the breeders to choose from, why her?”
“Her mate died.” Leah’s answer is so abrupt that I stand frozen in my place. “And yours came available.”
I stare at her, astounded. “He just... died? Right there in the Pit?”
She shrugs away my stunned expression. “It happens. And with our jailers’ short-lived uprising, it happened more often than usual.” A pause. “And don’t think we rushed this decision. We deliberated much over these past few weeks as to whom she should be paired with.” She rubs at her temples again. “Frankly, we can’t afford anymore losses.” She tosses her head toward me. “Convince your mate. And quickly.”
A nervous tingling invades. The shortage of stock must be very serious. Serious enough for Mona to have risked much to correct the problem. And Leah’s words only magnify the urgency. My heart thumps a damning beat in my head as I work up the courage to break Chad’s heart in order to save his life.
Chapter 10
L
eah agrees to give Chad and me complete privacy, which takes some convincing. In the end, she gives me only half an hour to do so, claiming she must report to the Council by noon. I hurry along the path with a heavy pall hanging over my heart, and I find great irony in the clouds, which hang low and black in the sky.
I find Chad sitting on the edge of his mat, clutching my shampoo bottle in his fist. The sight of him like this brings up my tears. A slanting ray of sunshine squeezes in between the bamboo bars and falls across his face. He squints up at me when I enter, but he doesn’t move from his spot.
“Another girl came today,” he says flatly. He squeezes the bottle once before carefully placing it into a small nook in the cave’s wall.
“I know.”
Puzzled, he stares at me. “You knew she was coming? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I simply shake my head, dropping my hands at my sides. He clasps his hands together, and I cautiously sink down onto the mat beside him. It’s only then that I notice four deep, scratches scraped into the side of his cheek. The gashes are red and freshly raw, and very distinct in the slash of sunshine that illuminates them. My heart tweaks with a flash of anger as I lay my palm over the ugly marks.
“She was angry,” he explains, his eyes on the ground.
“Chad—”
“Don’t say it.” He cuts me off and slides away.
I feel suddenly vulnerable, and it’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to—not in the Pit. In fact, in the Pit, I’ve always felt fearless and self-assured. It’s where I belong—fulfilling my duty to the Village. But today, I feel nothing of this confidence, and I’m not certain I’m equipped to do the thing that is expected of me. How am I to ask Chad to disregard what we’ve recently discovered? After so many months, so many hours, so many words passing between us—how?
The minutes I’ve been allotted tick by, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I do the thing that must be done.
“You have no choice,” I tell him, and in light of my recent conversation with Leah, I hate these four words more than ever.
“No. That isn’t true,” he rebuts. “I made my choice.” When I simply look at him, he grabs my hand, holds it up so that I have a clear view of his token. “We made our choice. Did you forget?”
I stare at him, a fear rising inside me, and I am very aware of how much this is my fault. I put these notions in his head. I coaxed him out of this cave, I gave him a reason to want a choice. Until I did so, he didn’t have any idea what it meant. And in giving him a choice, I allowed myself to have one, too.
I chose to open his heart—as unintentional as it may have been at first. But I am the breeder; inside this cave, I am the one with the power—and I misused every bit of it. It was wrong to place him in this predicament. And I have to fix it.
Quickly, I pull away and stand, facing him. “Listen to me,” I reason. “You have to do what they say. It will be better for both of us if you do.”
“Better for us?” He’s on his feet. “How? I was assigned to you. How is it better?”
His voice rises a notch. He doesn’t understand, and I step forward, a warning hand on his chest. I glance over my shoulder at the gate as a real fear that someone is listening consumes me for a moment, and then I refocus on his pain-filled eyes.
“What we’ve done… it’s against the rules,” I whisper. “People have died for such things.”
He covers my hand with his own, pinning it against his chest. “I’ve been dying every day for all of my life, Mia.” His eyes flood with pain. “Keeping you away will be what kills me.”
“Chad.” His name is a desperate whisper on my tongue, and my eyes burn as I fight tears. “You know this is how things work in the Pit. You were assigned to another breeder before I came of age. This will be no dif
ferent.”
His eyes flood with tears, and he takes my face in his palms. “This is different. Before... there was no ‘you.’”
Desperate, I tug on his wrists. “You are stock. They own you.” I pause before I painfully add, “And I cannot bear the thought of what they will do to you if you don’t comply.”
“She’s mean.” His face contorts, his voice husky with wetness, and his eyes dance back and forth, connecting with mine.
“I know,” I whisper. I brush my fingertips along his cheek. “I know she is.”
I pause for a long, tormented moment, chewing on my thoughts. Suddenly, I’m standing at the foot of the raised platform in the clearing. Layla is tied to a pole, and Mona has just slashed the throat of her mate. His chest is crimson wet, and the image panics me. Shaking it away, I focus on Chad. I must say something drastic. Something that will make him reconsider the severity of refusing a breeder. Of refusing the Council. I look him straight in the eyes and make myself speak.
“You will do this, Chad. Do you understand me?” I press, my voice growing harsh. “To save your life, you will do this.”
He leans away, a look of defeat distorting his features. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth to staunch a new flood of tears that threatens. He begins to shake his head, but I grab two fistfuls of his shirt and tug him against me, making him look into my eyes, determined to let him see how serious I am. And as I survey the pain in his eyes, it tears my heart in two to even think what next spills out of my mouth.
“If you don’t, I will not come again. Ever.” A fresh tear tumbles down my cheek, but I keep talking. “I will ask for a new assignment after this baby is born, and you will never see me again.”
It is an empty threat, truly. If he doesn’t comply, it won’t matter what I say. They will kill him, and I will never see him again anyway, but when his lower lip begins to quiver, I see I’ve made my point. For a split second, we are no longer Chad and Mia. We have reverted—to breeder and mate. His face suddenly seems to crush in on itself with pain, and his hand—still covering my clenched fist—tightens.
“That feeling in my chest—it hurts.” His eyes slice into me like two shards of broken glass. “Is love supposed to hurt?”