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She was here with me, for now.
But stark loneliness filled me.
I’d do anything—giveanything—not to lose her.
Chapter 7
Vanessa
“You may sleep on our—the—bed tonight,” he said.
“Where will you sleep?” I stifled a yawn. I’d been through the wringer, and I’d only been here a short time. I could only imagine what a week or a month would be like in this strange, primitive world.
“I’ll gather more furs and lie nearby.”
“There’s no Super 8 in the vicinity?” At his frown, I sighed. “Never mind. You can share the crystal yurt with me. No harm in that as long as you promise not to get touchy feely when I’m out. I’ll smack you, and I’ve got a mean fist. You don’t want to test me.”
He grinned and lifted my hand. “This tiny thing? It would do no more harm than the nibble of a fless.”
I tugged my hand away. “Yeah, well, don’t push it.”
He nodded slowly, and I was grateful he didn’t appear to be one of those alpha dudes who’d force this. “Tomorrow, we’ll travel to the clan meeting grounds where we’ll speak with the gods and find a way to help you.”
“I appreciate that.”
He grunted. I could tell he wasn’t pleased. How could he be? He believed I was his god-chosen mate, which, when you thought about it, might give a girl a bit of a thrill if she was into junk like that.
I wasn’t.
But still.
He thought I was sent here to love him forever, and he seemed sad that I didn’t already.
“Love takes time,” I said.
“Yes.”
His voice sounded hollow, his anguish biting into me, making a searing pain spread through my chest. I didn’t like it one bit.
“I don’t suppose you have a toothbrush and paste?” I asked. “I have a feeling I haven’t brushed in . . . light years.” My shrill laugh rang out. It was either laugh or burst into tears. If I did that, I suspected I’d never stop.
I needed sleep. Coffee in the morning along with a plate full of burritos with extra guac. A long soak in a tub with oodles of rose-scented bubbles.
All of which I had a feeling I’d never see again in my life.
“No brush, but if you mean for your . . .” His gaze fell on my mouth. “You have no tusks.”
“Good observation.” The words popped out, though kindly. I flashed my pearly whites that were only straight due to good genetics. Thanks, parents, for that at least.
“We use this to keep our tusks clean.” He crossed the room and grabbed a handwoven basket full of items.
Handwoven.Everything here was handmade. Nothing would come from a machine. No computers. No cell phones. No electricity.
The only saving grace was that there would be no robocops either.
He pulled out a stick about the length of my forearm. One end bristled with short things that vaguely looked like the strands on a feather. I touched them, finding them soft yet stiff. “We use this and this.” He presented me with the stick and a small, covered pottery bowl holding a purple goo that, when I sniffed it, smelled vaguely like flowers, though it had a sharp tang that tingled in my sinuses.
“Do you have water?”
