Page 10 of Betrothed to the Yeti

Chapter 6

Pabu

I had no intention of claiming my marriage rights to her body, but did she have to choose to sleep with the goat? My bedroom has no windows. It is dark, dry, and warm. I want the best for my guest, so she doesn’t escape…again. From the top of the stairs, the human and her goat are a pretty picture of contentment. She could have run out the front door but nestled in the straw I provided for her animal. Her colorful fabrics peek between the dry grasses. Is she wearing multiple dresses? Is my home not warm enough for her?

The goat—Ku Huang, I remember—stirs when my feet clomp down the stairs. She recognizes the monster in me and rubs her chin on her owner’s wrist. I’m rooted on the spot as Jaya rouses from slumber. The straw has pulled her coiled hair into a halo. She tilts her head upward to stretch her neck, inadvertently flashing a signal of submission. My body stirs as I watch her skinny arms unfurl over her head and her back arch. Her groan hits my groin and awakens my dark hunger again. I breathe the cravings back to their crevices in my heart, but the huffing is too loud.

We lock eyes. She freezes with her arms over her head.

“Do you want me to break another crystal so they emit more heat?” She flinches at my question. Her brow lowers to build an adorable ‘V’ between them. Her distress doesn’t slow my questions as my thoughts tumble out like an avalanche. “Do you sleep in layers at the foot of the hearth, because this room is too cold? Did you reject my invitation out of fear for your goat? It can’t be comfortable to sleep in straw that hasn’t been checked for worms.”

She jumps to her feet and dry grass scatters over the floor. She slaps at her clothes while shaking her head in a frenzy of deworming. Would she welcome my help? I rush to her aid, but my fists clench and loosen at my sides with indecision. Distressed, Ku Huang struggles to stand and bleats at her owner.

“They’re in my hair. I can feel the mites crawling,” she wails. Tears flow down her face as she rips at her hair. “Why would you bring straw inside without burying it in the snow for deworming first?”

“I highly doubt you can feel them crawling on your head when I can’t see any wiggling on your face or in your ears.” Missing my mark, my words escalate her crying to wails of horror. I guess humans are sensitive to parasites. My heart breaks over her reaction to something as silly as worms. My cleansing pool will take care of anything that crawls on her. I can’t resist combing my fingers through her silky hair. Pieces of straw litter the floor as I unbraid the leftover plaits and work through her snarls from sleep.

“I can fix this, please don’t cry,” I whisper next to her ear.

Is she breathing? She’s as still as ice. When the tresses hang limply down her back, I focus on her scalp. I push waves this way and that to expose her skin. Inch-long mites have colonized her head. There is more than one night’s brood. While an hour outside would kill them, I don’t wish to freeze her.

“There,” I say with her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Let’s finish the job.”

“Did you find—” I cut off her question with a press of my fingers over her lips. The snippets of her life on Alpha she inadvertently shared were tragic at best. I won’t lie to her. My name won’t be added to the list of people who betrayed her.

“Come.”

I wait for her to nod before dragging her by the hand into the kitchen. Behind a large bag of those horrid seeds, I push open a secret panel in the wall. A sharp tug and she enters the pitch-black stairwell behind me. The clacking of her goat’s hooves follow my stomps. Would the dumb animal follow Jaya off a cliffside?

Jaya gasps at the size of my fusion crystal collection.

“Are all these tributes? Is this stuff from the villages?” Her fear has melted into awe. I wish I could share her delight, but anxiety squeezes my ribs. Will she snap at me like when I showed her my stores in the kitchen or shared the stew? Her attitude toward my riches is confusing at best—hostile at worst.

“The humans freely gave me the treasure over generations. This is what they leave with the food I eat. I have learned from these things, but I hope you will be willing to answer some of my questions about them. My purpose in bringing a companion into my home was to learn more about the species I have grown to love.”

She snorts but doesn’t argue.

“This is the atrium to the cleansing pool—”

Instead of arguing with me about the treasure, her face splits with delight. The golden riches and luxury are forgotten as soon as the words leave my mouth. She shakes free of my handhold and runs from the treasure room. Her squeal of pleasure coaxes a chuckle from my chest. Ku Huang prances around me to join her owner. The wobbly trot of the heavily pregnant goat turns my chuckles into full-blown belly laughter.

“I can’t wait to swim! I’ve never been underwater before!”

Joy fortifies my spine, and I vow to do anything it takes to keep the pair happy.

Jaya

The water rushes over my head and seeps into my clothes when I launch myself into the pool. I’m surrounded by bubbles when Ku Huang follows me into the warm water. A hot spring sings the perfect background music as it flows out of the pool. Bobbing and gulping, I’m not graceful but I wouldn’t miss swimming for anything in the world. I push my head under again and scratch my scalp with all my might. Embarrassment weighs me down like boulders when parasites float to the surface. Why do I need air? I could live at the bottom of this pool and not face Pabu, who undoubtedly brought me here to delouse.

“Soap,” he calls before tossing a white rock at me.

When did he join me? At least he stands on his half—well, third if you give the paddling goat her fair share—of the pool while I bounce to stay afloat in mine. He strains my mites off the water's surface and feeds them into a draining crevice. Can this be more humiliating?

Looping my elbow around a rock on the edge for balance, I set my attention to scrubbing my layers, taking off each one as I work. After rinsing my wedding dress, coat, traveling dress, and home dress, I lovingly spread them out over a flat rock at the edge. Perhaps the carved stone is supposed to be a Pabu-sized bench, but today, it’s a drying rack.

I’m naked, but he walks around naked all the time. The water is deeper than my height. I glance over my shoulder to find him scrubbing Ku Huang and delousing her fur. My goat rubs her head along his arm and purrs with glee. He patiently parts her fuzz to dig out the deeply nested bugs from years of subpar living conditions. Soap foam releases the remnants of living in poverty. The draining crevice sucks them away.

He pauses when he catches me staring.

---