Page 55 of Yasmin and the Yeti
“We could stay,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble meant only for her ears. “Be part of the clan again. The Healer would be close for you and the cub.”
He tried to keep his tone neutral, not wanting to influence her decision. This was her choice as much as his—perhaps more so, given her condition and the coming birth.
She looked around the bustling cave, taking in the activity, the community, the acceptance they had been shown. Then her gaze returned to him, her eyes softening as they met his.
She reached up, her small hand touching his face.
“This is wonderful,” she said, her voice gentle. “But you are my home. Take me home.”
Something tight in his chest loosened at her words. He had not realized until that moment how much he had dreaded the thought of living here, surrounded constantly by others, never having the privacy and peace of their own space.
“You are sure?” he asked, searching her face. “The healer?—”
“Perhaps we could return when the time is nearer. But in the meantime, she’s a short run away if we need her. Our cave is not so far. And it’s ours.”
He understood what she didn’t say—that she valued their privacy, their sanctuary, as much as he did. That after the trauma of her capture, the loss of her world, she had found peace in their small, shared space.
“Our home,” he agreed, a deep purr of satisfaction rumbling from his chest.
The celebration continued around them, but they were in their own world now, connected by a choice that was about more than just living arrangements. It was about who they were together—not just a human and a Hothian, not just a mated pair, but two souls who had found in each other exactly what they needed.
Later, as they made their way back to their cave through the quiet, snow-covered forest, he felt a peace he had not known in years. The weight of exile had been lifted. The burden of guilthad been eased. He had been welcomed back, not just tolerated but honored.
Yet it was not the clan’s acceptance that filled him with this profound contentment. It was the small female walking beside him, her hand in his, her choice as clear as the stars above them.
She had chosen him. Not just as a rescuer, not just as a protector, but as her home.
And in her, he had found his.
EPILOGUE
Three months later…
The winter had begunto soften at its edges, the days stretching incrementally longer as the worst of the cold retreated. Yasmin noticed these small changes with a growing sense of connection to this world that had once seemed so alien. She had learned to read the subtle shifts in weather by the way the snow crystallized at the cave entrance, to identify the calls of different creatures that moved through the underbrush, and to recognize which cloud formations meant they should stay close to home.
She sat cross-legged on a thick fur in their cave, carefully threading beads onto a thin strip of leather. Her collection had grown considerably over the past months—carved soapstone, polished crystals, and even small pieces of bone that Rhaal had brought her, knowing how much she enjoyed working with the different materials. The necklace taking shape was a gift for Talvi, for her mating ceremony with Broc.
A quiet shuffling at the cave entrance made her look up. Polly stood there, half-hidden behind the heavy hide curtain, her pretty face watchful.
“Come in,” she said, smiling at the other woman. “I’m just finishing this for Talvi.”
Polly slipped inside, her movements still carrying that cautious quality, as though she expected to be sent away at any moment. It had taken weeks for her to brave the journey to their cave, but lately, she’d been visiting more frequently, drawn by the companionship of another human.
“It’s beautiful,” Polly said, sitting down carefully beside her. “The way you carve the patterns… they look like the stars.”
She nodded, pleased by the observation. “That’s what I was trying for. The night sky here is so clear—I wanted to capture that.”
Polly reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in soft leather. “I made something too. For your baby.”
She unfolded the leather to reveal a tiny pair of boots, meticulously stitched from supple hide and lined with the softest fur. They were barely the size of her palm.
“Oh, Polly,” she breathed, reaching out to touch the delicate gift. “These are perfect.”
A flush of pleasure colored Polly’s pale cheeks. “Njkall helped me get the materials. He says… he says your baby will need good boots to walk strong on this world.”
“How is Njkall?” she asked innocently.
“He said perhaps it was time to get my own cave,” Polly blurted out. “That he didn’t want to frighten me.”
