Page 37 of X'nath

I snapped awake, sitting up in bed with a sharp breath, my face wet with hot tears. Pulling my knees up, my body trembled, my heart pounding in my chest. Clutching the furs tightly around me, I tried to pull myself back from the remnants of the nightmare. My former husband’s rage filled eyes still haunt me as he sold me to slave traders to pay off the debt he said I owed to him for being a worthless barren woman.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting faint light across the room, and Erin was asleep in her bed, undisturbed. The silence of the night seemed to press down on me as I tried to steady my breath.

But the shadows from my dream still lingered, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they were creeping closer again, threatening to consume me alive.

Erin began to stir and I schooled my features, relaxing my limbs to hide my distress. She turned to look at me over her shoulder. “You okay, Gracie? I thought I heard you moan in your sleep.”

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” I sighed, brushing off her concern. How could I even begin to talk about everything that was running through my mind when I was still trying to push it all away? After a long pause, I finally asked, my voice still thick with sleep, “Erin… why aren’t you with Karg?”

She stretched her arms before sitting up in her bed. There was a hint of a frown on her face, one that made my curiosity spike. She sighed heavily, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion.

“We had a fight,” she said, clearly annoyed. “He’s so dense sometimes, doesn’t get it. I’ve been trying to get through to him,but he just doesn’t understand. He’s… too thick-headed when it comes to anythingbeyondthe obvious.”

I raised an eyebrow, more than willing to talk about anything but myself. “What do you mean?”

Erin ran a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “I’ve been making hints, you know? I like him. I do. But I’m tired of always having to spell it out for him. He acts like he’s never had a woman look his way before—like I’m some kind of puzzle that needs to be solved. And every time I drop a hint, it goes right over his head.”

I chuckled, though it was soft. “He’s a bit...young, don’t you think? Maybe he justdoesn’tknow how to handle it yet.”

Her gaze flickered to me, and she let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for him to figure it out. If he’s serious about me, he’ll have to work for it. I don’t do well with being ignored.”

I nodded, understanding her frustration. It wasn’t easy to navigate the delicate balance of wanting someone but feeling like they weren’t quite seeing what was in front of them.

“I get it,” I said softly. “You deserve someone who can see you for what you are, to understand your love language.”

Erin smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to keep wasting my time. I’ve got enough to deal with without wondering if I’m really what he thinks he wants.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackle of our dying fire. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Relationships are never easy, especially when the other person doesn’t seem to notice the signals you were putting out. Communication between male and female was hard enough as it was.

“You know,” I said, shifting under the furs, getting comfortable again, “I don’t think it’s that he’s not interested. Ithink Karg’s just… still figuring things out. But I hope he gets his head straight soon. You deserve someone who knows exactly what they want.”

Erin met my gaze, and for the first time, the frustration seemed to fade from her face. “Thanks, Gracie. I appreciate it.”

“Maybe you need to put aside some of your own pride and, I don’t know, spell it out for him and make the first move,” I suggested.

There was an uncomfortable silence that settled between us, and I could feel the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. I didn’t know what Erin was going to do about Karg, but it was clear she was at her Witt’s ends.

I let out a quiet sigh. "Get some rest," I said gently. "We'll deal with this in the morning."

Erin nodded, sinking back into her bed. But the room felt quieter somehow, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the unresolved tension in her words would linger for a long while. The sounds of the night brought the hum of insects and the gentle breeze as I tried to settle back into sleep, but the shadows of the nightmare still loomed over me, mixing with the weight of our unspoken thoughts.

22

Flickers of the Past

GRACIE

The darkness of my surroundings felt stifling, the silence pressing down on me as I jolted awake once again, heart racing. I glanced around, disoriented, the remnants of my nightmare clinging to my mind like cobwebs. My former husband’s voice echoed in my ears, twisted and cruel, making my stomach churn. The scars he had left—both visible and hidden—seemed to throb in unison with my heartbeat.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the rough wood cool against my skin. I had to get out. The suffocating memories threatened to pull me under, and I couldn’t allow that. I pushed myself to my feet, pacing the small space of our communal home, my breath coming in quick bursts.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I hissed into the dark, fists clenching at my sides. I was supposed to be stronger now, especially since he’d removed himself from my life. But the shadows of my past were relentless, creeping back in when I least expected it. “You’re nothing to me now. Just a ghost of what used to be.”

Erin stirred and guilt hit me. I was disturbing her rest with my ghosts. Grabbing an extra layer of clothes, I put it on and continued my pacing outside our walls. With every step I took, the weight of regret settled deeper in my chest. I should have fought harder when he threatened to sell me. I should have told him what he had done to me, that it wasn’t my womb that was the problem but his blindness and fury.

Would it have made a difference? Probably not. But maybe my guilt wouldn't gnaw at me so relentlessly. Here I was, in a place where the universe had given me another shot at life, and yet all I could focus on was how broken I felt. How could any of these strong, virile, capable males want a woman who might not be able to bear children for them? I was beyond my childbearing years, wasn’t I? Forty-two in human years is when most women start thinking about their children’s marriages and futures, not their own.

The shame surged, and I berated myself for even considering a life with them.

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