Page 35 of Yasmin and the Yeti
A firm hand gripped his shoulder. Broc’s. “Not the same,” he said quietly. “Not this time.”
He met his former friend’s gaze, surprised by the absence of blame he found there. Instead, there was a shared determination. Neither of them would stand by and watch another tragedy unfold.
With a short nod, he ducked into the healer’s cave, carrying his precious burden to the fire that blazed in the center. The healerdirected him to lay her on a bed of furs, and he reluctantly released his hold on her, his hands shaking as he carefully arranged the blanket around her.
“Tell me what happened,” Cera ordered, her voice brisk but not unkind.
“She was helping prepare meat. Then she collapsed, shaking.” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “She is pregnant.”
“Has she had any other symptoms? Nausea? Fatigue?”
“Yes. But not bad. Not until…”
The healer nodded, her expression grim. “Winter Womb. It is a condition that affects some pregnant Hothians, and possibly humans as well. It can come on suddenly, with no warning.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Can you treat it? Help her?”
“I will do everything in my power to help her,” Cera said firmly. “But I have never treated a human before.”
He stared at her, unable to speak past the dread that filled him. The thought of losing Yasmin, of losing their cub, was too much to bear. He couldn’t survive that. He couldn’t.
Cera’s voice softened slightly. “But she is strong, and so are you. That is something I can work with.”
“What can I do?”
“Stay by her side and pray,” she ordered as she moved to her workbench.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Consciousness returned to Yasmin in waves. First came sensation—the feel of soft furs beneath her, the scent of herbs and smoke, the sound of low, rumbling voices. Then came awareness of her body, the terrible weakness in her limbs, the cold sweat on her skin, the ache deep in her bones.
She forced her eyes open. The world swam into focus—a cave, larger than Rhaal’s, its walls lined with shelves of clay pots and bundles of dried plants. The ceiling glittered with clusters of glow crystals, bathing everything in a soft, amber glow.
“She wakes,” came a gravelly female voice.
She managed to turn her head, the movement requiring far more effort than it should have. A Hothian female stood nearby, her eyes sharp and assessing. The one who had come to their cave—the healer. Behind her loomed Rhaal, his big body tense with fear, his glowing eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart ache.
“Rhaal,” she whispered, her voice a dry rasp.
He was at her side in an instant, dropping to one knee beside the fur-lined pallet. One huge hand gently stroked her hair back from her damp forehead, his touch feather-light.
“I’m here.”
The healer moved to a workbench, her movements efficient despite her age. Yasmin watched through half-lidded eyes as she mixed ingredients in a stone mortar, grinding them with practiced precision. The scent of crushed herbs filled the air, mingling with something sharper, more pungent.
“What happened?” she asked, struggling to piece together her fragmented memories. She remembered helping Rhaal in their cave, and then… nothing.
“Sick,” Rhaal said, his voice tight.
The healer approached, carrying a small clay cup filled with a shimmering blue liquid. It caught the light strangely, seeming to glow from within.
“Drink,” the healer commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Sothiti. It will help.”
Rhaal carefully lifted her head, supporting her as the healer brought the cup to her lips. The liquid looked almost alive, swirling in the cup like a miniature whirlpool.
She hesitated, but the desperate hope in Rhaal’s eyes convinced her. She parted her lips and allowed the healer to tip the cup.
The sothiti flowed onto her tongue—warm and earthy, with an underlying sweetness that reminded her of honey but wasn’t quite the same. As it slid down her throat, warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading outward through her limbs. It wasn’t justwarmth, but a spark of energy, of life itself, flowing through her veins, chasing away the bone-deep chill that had gripped her.
