Mari's Mistake (Icehome, #10)

by Ruby Dixon

I rub my chest as she puts her hands on T’chai’s sunken chest. His scars are livid against his blue skin, Frankenstein slashes that show just how badly R’jaal and I stitched him up. It’s amazing he’s lived for so long. T’chai’s hand twitches on the furs, and I reach for it out of habit. The moment I do, I feel…strange. His touch doesn’t feel dear to me; it’s off-putting. I notice the irritating rasp of calluses and how he’s too warm. His scent bothers me. In fact, all of it bothers me. Which is odd. It’s kind of like touching velvet the wrong way. It’s not bad, just…unpleasant. I want to put down his hand, but I don’t. I watch as Veronica’s face tightens and T’chai’s khui gives a dramatic, hard sound, almost as if in protest. It’s an upsetting sound, or at least, I think it should be. But I just feel very detached from it, and when it goes quiet, I feel relieved. It’ll all be worth it, I tell myself, if he lives. If T’chai lives, he can heal up and we can start over. The important thing is that he lives. Nothing else matters.