Snippet #1501889

Machai lifted his head when he heard Katarina stirring. His heart skipped a beat and all his hairs stood on end. When he saw that she was only waking up, he let out a silent sigh of relief and walked over to her bedside.

“How long have I been out? Where’s Nike? Is she okay?” Machai lifted his hands up, a gesture to try and calm her and shook his head. She’d just had a very intense moment of recognition, of memories; not to mention all that had made her pass out. He was certain she wasn’t very strong at the moment. When she tried to stand, that was made evident by the instant paleness that came over her. She fell back against the bed, looking down at her hands. Something (he knew knew very well what) began to tremble around her. Machai could feel it in the air. Heat filling up the room. His skin grew a thin film of sweat and he shoved his fists into his pockets. He had to know it was coming, especially now that she’d seen him.

When she asked the question, not lifting her eyes to his, he felt like a sack of guilt. His joints were shame and his muscles deceit. Machai was well aware that he’d made the decision to allow her to follow, to expose her. His selfish need to protect her, the same he felt for the others and Nike, had wanted her to just go away. But he knew that she had to know… Why hadn’t he just said something? Why hadn’t Nike? Perhaps she wanted Kat to find out that way? There was no way of knowing.

The absent thought of her caused him to look over his shoulder as he made his way to sit on the bed beside Katarina. He could feel nothing from his Mother. Was she really alright?

Machai removed his hands and mimicked the same posture as Kat, feeling much the way she did, he thought. “Nike knew from the beginning. She told me when I was old enough to understand.” He drew in a deep breath, feeling scrutinized. Not by Kat, but by some other being he could not see in the room. It wasn’t normal for the Wolf Clan Chief to feel vulnerable but telling a young woman that he’d known the cause of her… angst, of her terrible reunion, wasn’t something Machai was really used to. Sitting there beside her, he realized he still had much to learn of what it took to be a man.

He stood up, moving toward a drawer within her chest of drawers. In one was a few first aid supplies. The air was so thick and hot, or was that just him? Returning to her side, he grabbed one of her hands and started to wipe the blood off.

“It’s gonna sting.” He spoke low. All they had were alcohol pads and he brushed them gently across her scrapes and sores. He still had more he wanted to say to her, but he was praying for a way to avoid the entire idea that he was their enemy. Machai didn’t want to drive that point home, it had made itself quite clear. He took out some gauze, as band aids wouldn’t stay on her knuckles anyway. Finally, he found the words he needed as he slowly wrapped the terribly thin, white fabric around her hand.

“I think Nike has tried to help him, to show him this way, but she cannot force him. He is not a Descendant the way you are. You may be twins, but you carry the weight of the Ancient Clans.” This time he tried to find her eyes. He just wanted to make sure that she would be okay. If he saw regret there… Machai wasn’t sure what he would do. How could you make someone fight the only flesh and blood they had left in the world?