Page 66 of X'nath

"You don’t get it," I muttered, barely above a whisper. "You don’t understand how it feels when you disappear and leave me wondering if something’s happened to you."

X’nath stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, the stillness between us growing heavier with each passing moment. He didn’t say a word; he simply stared at me, his gaze lingering in a way that made time seem to stretch. I knew my judgment was clouded by the weight of my past. Despite the anger I felt in that moment, guilt also had a firm grip on me. He didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of my issues, but once the flood of doubt had begun, I couldn’t hold it back.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw my hands up in the air, a gesture of pure exasperation. "Forget it, X’nath. You don’t want to tell me? Fine." I turned on my heel and walked away, not looking back.

But even as I stormed off, my heart felt heavy. It wasn’t about trust. It wasn’t about secrets. It was about the feeling that, for once, X’nath wasn’t letting me in when all he had done up until this point was lay it all bare. And I wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

39

The Heart is a Burden

X’NATH

Istood there, seething with frustration as Yargol’s harsh squeaks echoed in my ears. I couldn’t understand it. I’d just come back from fixing a problem, expecting a warm greeting, perhaps even a little rutting celebration. But Gracie’s response was not what I had expected.

Yargol paced back and forth in front of me in our home, his body language sharp and erratic, accompanied by the occasional squeak, hiss, and growl. His eyes narrowed, and I could feel his impatience pressing down on me. It was as if he thought I was too stubborn to see what was right in front of me, as if he was trying to say, “of course there was more going on beneath the surface.”

I gritted my teeth, trying to stay calm. Yargol was my friend, but sometimes his advice felt like nothing more than riddles wrapped in insults. "I don’t need riddles, Yargol. I need answers."

He stopped, turning to face me, his eyes narrowing with that same look of impatience he always wore when he thought I wasbeing too dense.Gracie’s not the same as the others. Use your head.

The words echoed in my mind, but they didn’t make sense. Not the same as the others? We had been through so much together. Hadn’t we? We had broken down so many walls up until this point. Yet, every time I thought I understood her, something new came up to throw me off course.

"I didn’t do anything wrong," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to Yargol. "How am I supposed to fix this if I don’t even know what happened?"

Yargol didn't answer, just gave me a sharp look, as if I were missing something obvious. I turned away, feeling that all too familiar knot of frustration rise up in my throat. His silence spoke louder than his words, but it didn't help me figure out where I’d gone wrong.

With no answers from Yargol, I made my way to the training grounds, hoping someone else might offer me some clarity. I ignored the sound of Yargol following close behind me. I found Greag first, his broad shoulders hunched over a pile of weaponry as he cleaned his sword.

"Greag," I started, my voice tense. "I don’t know what to do. Gracie’s angry, but I don’t even know why."

He looked up at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his thick eyebrows raised in amusement. "You don’t know why she’s mad?" he teased, his voice dripping with mockery. "That’s rich, X’nath. Why would any virile woman be mad? Are you sure you’re keeping her satisfied?”

I shook my head, knowing full well I left her satiated each and every time we came together, making sure never to leave her side until she was fast asleep from exhaustion. "That can't possibly be the reason," I insisted. "She’s mentioned me leaving before, but it’s the way of a warrior to go where he's needed. She knew the risks when she chose to be with me."

Greag sighed, putting down his sparring weapon. "That’s the problem. You think shechosethis. She’s got her own demons, X’nath. Her own fears. Do you not forget where we found these females? It was rumors of a slave ship. She’s not going to forget that easily." He paused, a look of thought crossing his face. "Maybe you should just give her some space."

Space. It seemed so simple, yet it felt so wrong. And the last time I gave her space she acted out of character, accusing me of avoiding her. I turned away, already dissatisfied with Greag’s advice.

Next, I found Karg, who was sharpening his axe with meticulous focus. "Karg," I said, my tone growing even more desperate, "you’ve fought with your human female, right? What could possibly make Grace so angry with me when my cock works just fine?"

Karg didn’t stop what he was doing, and contemplated my question seriously. "Female moods aren’t something you can just figure out. They don’t always make sense. But sometimes..." He glanced up at me, eyes piercing through me like he could see everything I didn’t want him to. "Sometimes they need time to deal with whatever is bothering them before they can move forward. Or just time for them to come out and tell you exactly what they want from you."

I clenched my fists, he was talking in circles. Had I not made a valiant effort in listening, in letting her know that she could speak with me? Why would she be afraid to tell me what was going on? I had never given her any reason to fear me.

Karg shrugged. I stared at him for a long moment, wondering if his words meant anything. Maybe they did. But the message wasn’t completely clear in my mind.

It wasn’t until later, when I was about to give up, that I found Korrin sitting alone by the fire with his weathered face, staring into the flames with an expression of distant thought, his trustypistol within arms reach. I assumed he was lost in the memories of his previous clan that fell into disarray after his charge against a human fort.

I hesitated before walking up to him. His human female was the quietest one. Surely, he never had to deal with such arguments.

"Korrin," I said, my voice softer now. "I’m at a loss. Gracie’s angry with me, and I don’t know why. I’m unsure as to how I should approach this without making things worse. Do you have any advice for me?"

He didn’t answer at first, instead taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as if weighing his words.

"I’ve seen this before," Korrin said, his voice steady but laced with experience. "Not with Gracie, of course, but with others." He paused, his gaze drifting toward the fire, lost in thought. "Women… they’re warriors too, but they carry scars that aren’t always visible. I’ve known many who lost their mates in battle. Widows, broken by the weight of grief. And when they found another… it wasn’t always easy."

His words hit harder than I expected, and I found myself thinking of my father—his descent into sorrow after my mother’s death. But still, something didn’t add up. Gracie hadn’t lost me. I was right here, standing in front of her.

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