CHAPTER FORTY-ONELimah
Limah’s hands balled into fists by his side and I watched the tendons flex in his arms. His biology intrigued me and I stared beyond decency. “My mother’s dead,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “She heals no one.”
“I’m sorry.” I’d said those words more in the last hours than ever before and I meant them. Our souls converged and then separated in a bond of understanding. I sat on the hive floor, letting my palms run over the rough surface and drawing comfort from its familiarity. A stiff breeze pushed through the gap in the broken outer wall and Limah leaned his shoulder against a tattered edge and observed the white landscape beyond the hive. His hands dug into the pockets of his breeches, blood still staining his chest and arms.
He winced. “You won’t leave u
