My Voice for My Heart

Chapter 37: Eight

Keela

The winter was different here. The cold wind went right through my skin, and the rain turned to pellets of ice as it fell, stinging and simultaneously soaking me.

I laid out my eighth shirt. There were holes in the chest where the thread had broken and I'd needed to tie it back together, but it was finished. I bit on my thumb, pulling out a thorn with my teeth before crossing my arms over my chest and sitting down. One more. That's all I needed.

I sat down on the soft mat that the men had made for me when they'd last turned from men to swans. I lifted the back of my hand to my cheek, feeling the heat of my blush against my skin. Everything changed that night; it became deeper and and more intense, and was a taste of the life I could have if I could stay focused and complete my task. I moved my hand across my face back to my mouth, biting down on my thumb again, sucking the skin against the throbbing that the oils in the thistles left. I walked to the mouth of the cave, curving my body along the rounded entrance and sticking my hand out into the frigid air. The icy moisture soaked my sleeve, numbing my hand and giving me a measure of relief. I pulled it back inside, shaking it out and going back to my loom and threads. I had enough daylight to start again, the over and under motion of weaving would soothe me and I'd probably fall asleep in the midst of my work. I was so tired recently. Even with the stores of roots and dried meats the boys had left me, I was losing weight and struggling each morning to find the energy to open my eyes.

I lit one of the candles Finn had stolen, smiling when I remembered the look of cheeky pride on his face.

I shook my head. It was even getting hard to keep my thoughts focused. In and out, that was my job, not thinking about Finn's smiles, and Athol's hugs, and Balthair... My face flushed against, I definitely needed to keep my mind off of Balthair if I wanted to make progress with my final shirt today. My dropped my needle and put my weaving next to me. The light was too dim to find it without crawling around the cave. I swept my hand over the hard packed floor.

"Let me help you."

Balthair's voice echoed through the cave and I sucked in a breath, looking around quickly. He wasn't here. It was in my head; his voice just a remembered echo that made me realize how alone I was.

He couldn't help me, and so I shook my head at his question. If he injured himself, it could remain when he transformed back into a swan. He needed to be healthy in the wild.
I felt his hand on my shoulders, lifting and turning me. I stood facing the entrance of the cave.

"Keela." His voice was a caress, running over my skin, along my neck, down my arms until I felt his hand in mine.

I clutched his hand in mine, but I only felt my roughened, swollen palm. I'd moved closer to the entrance, and I took a wary step away, clenching my fists, anxiety rising in chest along with a pull, something connecting me to someone else. I could feel it, reeling me in, closer and closer.

Balthair's lips were a hairsbreadths away from mine. I forced my eyes to stay open, to stay locked on his silver eyes. This close I could see the threads of blue so pale it was nearly white.

"Keela."

"Kiss me," I thought, proud that in my mind my voice was steady when my heart was pounding so hard my entire body shook.

His eyes closed, lids tight, and he took a shuddering breath that exhaled on a groan. His hand came up to cup the back of my head, fingers tight in the strands; I couldn't move away even if I'd wanted. And I didn't. I didn't ever want to move.

His lips were as sure as he always was. They moved against mine in complete control. He led, I followed. He moved my head, tilting it to the side and I opened my mouth, suddenly not content. His kisses were heated, but chaste, and I wanted depth. I wanted him to fill me up with his taste, until every sense I had was full of Balthair. My tongue touched his lips, and my teeth gave him a short, tight nip on the lower lip. I felt a pinch at the back of my head, a warning, but I could feel his lips crease in a smile. He kissed me again. This time his tongue dove into my mouth, tracing the roof of my mouth gently, making me shiver at the sensation. His flavor filled me, just like I wanted. I felt his hands on my waist, and then he was lifting me and pinning me against the stone of the cavern. His hands wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling my dress out of the way when it trapped my legs. My hands went up to his neck and into the short hair at the nape of his neck. I tugged it as he had to mine, angling his head deeper so I could draw his tongue into my mouth. He thrust his hips against mine, and I felt him, hard and long between my legs.

My eyes opened, the weak light from the cave entrance blinding me. I turned over onto my back, looking up at the ceiling of the cave as I tried to make sense of where I was. A moment ago I'd been locked in Balthair's arms, moments away from bliss, and now I was alone, shivering in my damp cave. I inwardly groaned before pressing my hands into the cave and pushing myself to a sitting position. I was close to the entrance of the cave, and remembered the pull I felt last night. I walked outside carefully, tiptoeing to the stream and cupping my hands in the frigid water before splashing it on my face. I took handfuls of the liquid to my lips, drinking deeply before running my cold fingers along the back of my neck and shivering. Feeling much more awake, but still bone-deep weary, I went back into the cave to weave. I found the needle I'd dropped the night before and my loom with the small square of fabric I'd been able to finish before my strange wakeful dream overtook me. I sat cross-legged on the mat and reached for the dried berries I kept nearby. I chewed the tangy bits thoughtfully, wincing as my hand was again pierced by a thistle. I took breaks only to stretch, but I ignored my hunger and my thirst. As the morning wore, I was encompassed by anxiety. My mind screamed at me to finish. I might have months left to finish; I was in the early months of winter, but I could sense that it wouldn't be enough time. Despite having eight shirts completed, I felt like something was on the horizon that would halt my work. If I wasn't finished by the time that happened, I would never finish it, and then my family: Balthair, Finn, Rab, Athol, Aohdan, Ciaran, Coiseam, Dand, Iasan; they'd be lost to me forever.