***
Kali
She hadn’t seen him for three days. Three whole days. Nibbling on her fingernail, she wondered what could have happened. Had he grown bored of her? Too busy on the farm? Had his wife found out and forbidden him from seeing her?
Every single day that she didn’t see him felt worse than the last. She barely ate; she couldn’t sleep, and her takings grew less and less as her concentration fell. Her heart was breaking at his desertion. She knew his absence would tear her up. She wouldn’t survive losing the only hope she’d had. He’d been the only one to keep her going.
Drina had all but abandoned her and constantly insisted that Kali should take on her responsibilities with pleasure. Keeping joy in her heart, when her world was crumbling around her, seemed impossible.
She watched for him on the way home, desperate for a glimpse of him. A gasp of relief came to her lips as she saw his form. She ran to him, urgent in her need to get close to him, but he backed away, hands raised.
“What is it?” he asked as his eyes darted from side to side.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, tears standing in her eyes.
He looked momentarily shocked at her words. “I don’t have an obligation to you.”
She bit her bottom lip to squelch a sob. “But you said…”
“I’m sorry.” His eyebrows gathered into a frown. “Did something happen to you?”
“Oh, Andriy. The worst news I could ever hear.”
She trudged across the fields to find a place to sit, confident he was behind her. When her tears had stopped, she told him everything.
“The ceremony is in a couple of days. And after that, he’s forcing me to marry.”
“To marry,” he said slowly. “To a good man?”
She shook her head. “A vile man. My father’s selling me, condemning me to a life of misery. I can’t live like this.”
“We all have our crosses to bear.”
For some reason his words irritated her even more. She thought he would at least be upset at the idea.
“Do you even understand what this means? I’ll live a decade of misery, and then I’ll die in childbirth. Because all he wants, all any of them want, are my children.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Sorry,” she gasped. “Sorry? You don’t see it. You don’t see what will happen. In a couple of days I will be chovihani. I will work every day. And I am the seventh of the seventh. My children will be guardians of my people. Wolf guardians.”
“Wolfmen?” he asked, his voice suddenly excited.
“Of sorts,” she said, feeling as if the life would drain out of her right in front of him if he didn’t begin to speak the words she needed to hear. “Don’t you care that I’ll be married?”
“I’m married,” he said gently, and her tears began again.
“I thought you would help me get away,” she cried before running away. He called after her, but she couldn’t bear to look at him. He didn’t care for her after all.
Her life was almost over.