201 Into the Woods
SPECIAL PRIVILEGE REWARD THIS MONTH! To celebrate the last full month of Warrior Beast publishing, if you purchase the top tier of privilege in February you’ll receive an unpublished scene from this world! Those in the USA will receive it in physical copy, international readers will receive it digitally (in the first week of March because it contains spoilers.) Just follow instructions on the chapters in the top tier!
(This message was added after publication so you aren’t charged for the words.)
*****
~ JAYAH ~
Jayah stood over the wet nurse, breathing more easily when the baby latched and began to feed, but her heart still fluttered with nerves and her body hummed with tension.
Little Zan was lethargic and dehydrated. Losing strength. And even though he was feeding now—which would help—his stomach was distended and painful when touched.
His body had not responded well to the goat milk, which meant it could have damaged his little system.
Had he been Anima, Jayah might have been less concerned. The Anima were robust—certainly stronger than human children—plus they could shift into their animals whose development was faster and stronger. But all signs were that Zan was not even Chimera, but human. His scent held nothing of an animal—presumably there would have been at least a hint of a wolf on him if he could shift.
While Jayah held no prejudice for a human child who had no control over his birth, her concerns ran high.
.....
Humans didn’t always respond to the herbs and tinctures of the Anima in the same way. Sometimes their treatments were more effective on humans. But others could be anything from toxic, to simply unhelpful.
Jayah had learned a great deal from the former queen, Elia, who’d been human, and more lately from some of the human mates of the Anima—Rika, and some of the Protector’s mates who were purely human. But they were all adults. None of the human females had had human babies here in Anima yet. And that meant Jayah was very, very uncertain what risks to take, or not.
Quite aside from the life of the child, which was the highest priority, Zev’s reaction if something were to go wrong added a layer of complication that Jayah decided she would have to ignore, or it might create too many pressures for her to objectively treat the boy.
As she watched the son feed—weakly, but steadily—and she watched her mate comfort his father, Jayah prayed for wisdom and guidance and strength… and that this extra stress wouldn’t push Zev over the edge completely.
When the baby was full—he hadn’t taken as much as he used to, but his stomach was still very clearly hurting him—Zev carried him back to the camp silently—after thanking Jayah and the wet nurses for coming. But his eyes were distant and shadowed.
When they reached the cave and Zev woke Sasha, she was alarmed, but Jayah was there to explain and Sasha, still bleary from sleep, cried with relief.
“Thank you, Jayah. Thank you!”
“It’s fine, Sasha. I’m glad that I could be here to help—and the others as well. We’re here for you and for Zan. Just relax. We’ll do the best that we can for all of you.”
With Zan clearly exhausted and sleeping, the wet nurses left to be shown to tents by Zev and Skhal, agreeing to take shifts and come for Zan again in three hours.
Skhal gave Jayah a lingering look before he walked out of the cave with the others and her heart squeezed. She was eager to reunite with her mate—they’d had no time alone since he arrived at the Tree City—but she also was there with a job to do. And the impending threat of the baby’s father if she didn’t do it correctly.
Her hands tingled, but she shook them out and turned back to Sasha, who was sitting in the furs, staring down at her son who’d dropped into a deep sleep.
“It’s not going to be that easy, is it?” Sasha whispered a moment later.
Jayah raised her brows, but kept her voice as soft and gentle as she could. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “His body didn’t like the milk. It depends whether it only made him ill and will pass after a time, or whether it’s a more serious reaction.”
“Allergies,” Sasha said, nodding her head, her eyes shadowed and fixed on her son’s face. “It didn’t even occur to me—”
“Don’t let yourself grow stressed, Sasha. You have enough to think about without recriminations. You are a first time mother—with no time to prepare. You’re doing remarkably well.”
Sasha shook her head. “Thank you, but… I never thought… I never imagined when I thought about having a family that it would happen like this. And I guess I never thought I’d have to rely on others so much just to keep my son alive, let alone thriving.” Her voice broke and she screwed her eyes closed. “It’s just… hard.”
Jayah put a hand to her shoulder, rubbing across her back. “I have never been a mother,” she said quietly, “but I have helped dozens and I can tell you, I have never met a mother who was truly successful doing it utterly alone. We need each other, Sasha, whether our children are ill or not. Don’t… don’t see it as a failing to allow others to help you.”
“I wouldn’t, it’s just that…” she looked up at Jayah, her eyes red and shining. “If he only had me he would literally die. I didn’t even know how to tie these diapers—and I’m still getting them too loose sometimes. And this? I can’t feed him—my body… I can’t! But I can’t give him this milk either… I can’t be what he needs!”
Jayah combed her sweaty hair back from her face and tried to smile. “You are exactly what he needs. He cannot thrive without you… and Zev,” she said softly. “His health… his health may be dependent on others, but his heart needs you. We all do—we all need love. We need our Creator. We need our mates, our tribes, our families—chosen or assigned to us… we all need, Sasha. That is just a simple truth. Don’t turn your need into a moral failing.”
“But… my child can’t be whole because of me.”
“The fact that he was stolen from you is not your fault!” Jayah said sternly.
“Not that—I know I couldn’t do anything about that. I’m talking about… I’m human. And he’s clearly taken after me. We are where we are because of others like me—he was taken by others like me. Even if he gets through this, what’s going to happen to him when he’s grown? He’ll never be Chimera. Never be strong enough. What female will want to take him as a mate if he can’t even fight for his place?”
Jayah was stunned. She wouldn’t have expected the young woman to have thought so far ahead when there was so much else going on.
But, on second thought, it was a natural extension of their position, she supposed. The conflict between humans and the other species…
“I don’t know about your people specifically,” Jayah said carefully, “but I can tell you that there are a few humans among the Anima—those whose mates were revealed to be in our people. Perhaps… perhaps there will be a mate for him among the offspring there?”
Their eyes met and Sasha’s slowly shifted from pleading to determined. “Just one more reason to find a way to peace,” she said.
Jayah nodded.
She opened her mouth again—the words on the tip of her tongue—that this might not be Zan’s only chance… that there were ways to make him more Anima…
But the woman looked away, down at her son, and Jayah saw the set of her shoulders and jaw.
It could do no harm, she decided, to give Sasha another reason to fight for the side of peace. No harm to any of them.
Least of all her son.
Jayah filed away the information to be shared at a later time—if the boy lived, and if it might help move Sasha and Zev into closer relationship with the Anima.
When Zev and Skhal returned—the former worried and haggard, Skhal just looking weary—Jayah and her mate left to give the Alphas the space to be alone and rest as a family.
Jayah followed Skhal into the night, promising Sasha that she would return at dawn to check Zan and speak with them both.
Sasha thanked her profusely, tears still in her eyes, and Zev added his quieter, but no less emphatic, gratitude as well.
Jayah prayed their relief wasn’t to soon. And then she wondered if it came down to it, whether she’d be brave enough to share the inkling of an idea she’d had.
Because that weak little human boy was not out of the woods yet.
The question was, how far would his parents be willing to go to save him if it was necessary—and would the Anima agree?
‘What plagues your mind, my mate?’ Skhal’s warm rumble in her head made her entire body shiver with relief and delight.
She hugged his arm to her side as they walked and she smiled. ‘I was just thinking about all the ways the little choices now… the things we see… how they can have such massive impacts on the future.’
Skhal tipped his head. ‘That’s true, but… what are you thinking about specifically?’
‘I’m thinking… I’m thinking that if that boy was somehow tied to the Anima… it we were necessary for his survival… that might help pave the way for peace.’
‘I think you may already be necessary for him—’
‘No, I mean, even when he’s older. If being a part of the Anima could benefit him… it might help break through Zev’s resistance. Unless you think he’s already softening?’
‘Sadly, no,’ Skhal muttered in her head. ‘He’s incredibly grateful, but he’s still walking around like someone stood on his tail. And the stress… his anger is just beneath the surface.’
Jayah sighed, that was what she thought. ‘Then maybe my idea has merit. I’ll tell you and then you can tell me if you think it would be useful or dangerous to propose.’
‘Propose? Propose what?’
Jayah looked at him from the side and tried not to smile. ‘I think I know how to make Zan into an Anima.’
Skhal stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at her.