Haunted by the past. Hunted by the future.
Something isnât right in Niushaâs isolated mountain village. Itâs taken her nearly twenty-three years to realize that not only is she in danger, but the children are at risk as well. As time threatens to run out, Niusha does her best to prepare before she and the little ones are forced to make their escape. Even though she has no idea what to expect as they head into the jungle, she is determined to keep them safe.
Javed is a solitary tiger-shifter living in exile. After stumbling upon Niusha and the children and realizing they canât possibly be prepared for the dangers of the jungle and the dark intent of its exiled inhabitants, he becomes their temporary protector. While hiding the emotional and physical scars of his past, Javed must also fight his pull toward Niusha, which will not be denied.
When the dead coals of Javedâs old plans threaten to reignite, and Niushaâs need to be reunited with her family intensifies, the pair is swept into a larger, deadlier battle that not only tests their growing feelings for each other but risks collapsing the entire kingdom.
Haunted by the past. Hunted by the future.
Something isnât right in Niushaâs isolated mountain village. Itâs taken her nearly twenty-three years to realize that not only is she in danger, but the children are at risk as well. As time threatens to run out, Niusha does her best to prepare before she and the little ones are forced to make their escape. Even though she has no idea what to expect as they head into the jungle, she is determined to keep them safe.
Javed is a solitary tiger-shifter living in exile. After stumbling upon Niusha and the children and realizing they canât possibly be prepared for the dangers of the jungle and the dark intent of its exiled inhabitants, he becomes their temporary protector. While hiding the emotional and physical scars of his past, Javed must also fight his pull toward Niusha, which will not be denied.
When the dead coals of Javedâs old plans threaten to reignite, and Niushaâs need to be reunited with her family intensifies, the pair is swept into a larger, deadlier battle that not only tests their growing feelings for each other but risks collapsing the entire kingdom.
*Niusha*
My home had once been a place of comfort⌠or at least held the illusion of such a notion. One wouldâve expected that a village so focused on adopting orphans would be a place of pure goodwill. The mothers and fathers referred to themselves as suchâpureâbut after my blind, innocent eyes grew into adult ones, the pure parents became eerie. My entire village had turned eerie.
For some reason, my friends continued to turn a blind eye to it, even after the oldest of us disappeared. Perhaps it was because some of the orphans did end up staying in the village. Upon turning eighteen, weâd either be paired up with a significant other or vanish with nary a goodbye. There were theories the other orphans had moved to another village, but none of us whoâd left had ever returned. It unsettled me enough to keep my eyes and ears wide open, regardless of explanations offered. Something within my body warned me to not be a fool.
So, I did three things.
Just before turning eighteen, the very first thing I did was to stop drinking the âpurity,â a potion they forced us to consume with every dinner. Supposedly, it drove the monsters away from our souls, especially the dreakshasa demons, but when I finally noticed that our sharp-minded leaders werenât imbibing the liquid at mealtime, I stopped⌠secretly. And I had to be stealthy about it; being caught emptying my chalice would only have them forcing it down my throat, such was their fervor.
The discontinuation of the purity changed everything, more than I could have expected. I thought Iâd been thinking clearly my whole life, but it turned out that Iâd been living in a fog thicker than the most choking, humid evenings. The resulting clarity had taken me weeks to get used to, and though it frightened me at first, the enhanced state of mind became addicting, precious. I couldnât lose it ever again.
My second task was to sneak into the pure elderâs office and change my birth year. If I never turned eighteen on paper, they couldnât make me disappear. I knew thatâd only work for so long, and it relied upon the pure parentsâ inattention, but I hadnât solidified my plan just yet. To be honest, I was scared to even consider a different life. Perhaps this was as good as it was going to get. Perhaps it was much worse out there... in the depths of the jungle.
And finally, the third item was to get my friend, Mehr, to promise to lie and vouch for taking my virginity if my true age was discovered. If they thought I was touched, they wouldnât be able to force me into taking a spouse to make me a pure mother.
I stared down at my meal, nervously pushing the last of my rice around the plate. Though I appreciated that Mehr was taking such a huge risk for me, and I hoped weâd never have to spin that thorny yarn, I didnât think it would happen. Years had passed since Iâd come of age, but recently, Iâd heard things I shouldnât have, and now I had a much larger concern. Time was running out for a different reason.
âDid you take your purity, Niusha?â a pure mother asked tersely, and I nodded before showing her my empty tin chalice. The liquid had long since been dumped into the small jars I kept in my pockets, ready to water the weeds by my hut in the dark of the night. I stuffed the last piece of bread into my mouth and watched the rigid woman depart the dining hall, pausing only briefly to stack several cups and plates onto a tray. I wrapped my wool shawl around my shoulders and left the stone temple, the balmy evening breeze a welcome change to the flat indoor air.
My cotton skirts swished through the weed-ridden, neglected path as I made my way homeâa shelter barely more than a hut. We slept beneath clay and twigs until we came of age. It wasnât so bad inside, but I did have to fix the roofing quite often, especially after long downpours. Little Tahmina, my hutmate, certainly wasnât going to do it; the fragile seven-year-old could barely open the door.
I sighed and turned to watch the gloomy grey clouds catch the last light of the setting sun. The golden-brown haze stretched from the horizon to the emerald world below, quiet and heavy. We lived high up in the mountains and could view the jungleâs expanse as well as any bird. I couldnât smell it or touch it, but I heard its wildness. Both below and above, the creatures of the night stirred, including the irritating insects that were addicted to the taste of blood. I cursed inwardly, forgetting that I needed to find extra oils to keep them at bay.
Iâd taken care of my entire escape checklist, but I continued to recall important things Iâd left out on accident, and that frightened me. There would be no returning once we departed this poisonous place, and I wasnât talking about the insects this time.
The children are little and few; perhaps the small amount we need to take wonât be as obvious, the demon said to me. The being had slowly begun its possession of my mind a little after Iâd stopped taking the purity, but I strongly believed that the trade had been worth it. If I lost a little of my soul to keep a sharp mind, so be it. It was what the potion was supposed to prevent, but I really didnât see why this demon was such a danger. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until it ate my entire soul, but I thought that saving the children was more important. It was a better fate than my two alternatives.
âI hope so,â I muttered to reply to the demon. It had only ever been helpful, and sometimes, I wondered if âdemonâ was the right name for it.
I stretched skyward as I studied the canopy below the village, making it look like I was about to go on a casual stroll instead of raiding the communal storage. The only way to dissolve suspicion was to live the lie. I never assumed I wasnât being watched, and as exhausting as that was, it never failed to keep me out of trouble.
I broke Tahminaâs and my jars of oil. I broke Tahminaâs and my jars of oil. I broke Tahminaâs and my jars of oil, I chanted in my head until I almost started believing it. Iâm just getting extras. Iâm such a stupid, clumsy fool. Iâll need rags too.
Two pure fathers were already in the storage room, so I forced a bleak look on my face. âNiusha,â one inquired, frowning at me, âwhat has you coming here?â
I scuffed the dusty wooden floor with my embroidered slipper and looked away for a moment. âI-Iâm sorry, pure father. I was moving some things around to fix a part of the roof, and I broke Tahminaâs and my jars of ward oilâŚâ I pasted an angry look on my face and hissed, âStupid, stupid mistake. I know we donât have much to spare now, but I also need soââ
âQuiet and take the oils, Niusha,â he interrupted, gesturing me away from him. âYou are forgiven.â
âDid you take your purity?â the other asked as I turned away from them, sniffing quietly.
âYes, Pure Father. I was late taking it, though, and my head hurts a littleâŚâ I answered like it was a confession. I waited for it as I walked to where the ward oils were stored; I always let them fill in the last half of the lie themselves.
âThatâs probably how you got so clumsy as to break those jars,â he admonished, and satisfaction coursed through me. âYou need to take your potion on time.â
âI know⌠Iâm sorry.â I moped, dragging my feet out with two extra jars of oil. âI will try harder, Pure Father.â I trudged all the way home, and I felt an echo of delight from the demon.
You did well. Perhaps that was the last ingredient. We should ready the bags tonight when Tahmina sleeps, the demon said.
I hummed as I opened the door to the hut. A cotton curtain separated my half of the hut from Tahminaâs, a critical piece of privacy to have once Iâd started crafting the childrenâs backpacks. Tahmina was inquisitive even with the purity in her system, and if I didnât have the divider up, sheâd be asking too many questions. Too many questions meant too many lies. Too many lies made it too hard to keep up the act.
Sometimes, Iâd have moments where I wasnât sure what the truth was anymore, and that was when the demon would set me right. It truly pinched my heart that I had to lie to survive. I could only hope that if I lived through our foray into the jungle, Iâd never have be false again.
I lit a candle to the sound of Tahmina prying open the creaky hut door. The small thing padded to her bed and asked me to read to her again. I could barely read myself, but I knew enough to understand what was being said. Our favorite story was the one on survival where it explained how to build animal traps. It had very nice drawings, Tahminaâs favorites being the animal illustrations.
After I read through a handful of pages, she rubbed her sleepy eyes and mumbled, âWhenâre we going on the secret surprise trip, Nini?â
âIn two days, I think,â I answered, putting the book aside and tucking the cover under her chin. âRemember, it's a secret. Hush, hush.â
I retreated to my side of the hut, making sure the curtain was drawn all the way so Tahmina wouldnât see me opening the false floor to pack the extra oils. All seven drawstring backpacks sat there, safe and secure. The large bag was mine, and there were six smaller ones for Tahmina, Anaitis, Fulco, Gerhard, Sam and Jam. These canvas backpacks were precious; itâd taken over a year of cautiously scrounging supplies to make them all, and Iâd have a nervous breakdown if someone found and confiscated them.
Just two more days, then weâd be gone.
***
I woke to a harsh rapping, and I nearly fell out of bed in my haste to answer the door, my mouth drying from sheer nervousness.
Donât look anxious! If they think somethingâs up, youâre going to make them more suspicious! the demon snapped. It was right.
I forced another yawn out of me as I opened the door. âGood morning, Pure Elder Vimal,â I greeted, stifling another yawn. âDo you need me or Tahmina?â
The tall, willowy man with faded brown hair gestured toward the temple. âYou, Niusha,â he ordered hoarsely. His seemingly endless preaching often cost him his voice, a casualty in the war against the demons, fighting the ones who wanted his words. I worried no one else but me found that complete nonsense.
I followed the pure elder to his study in the temple where he gestured for me to sit⌠next to Mehr. I tilted my head at him in mild surprise, but he didnât meet my eyes. The young man just sat in his seat, facing straight ahead.
âAre you ok, Mehr?â I asked, but before he could even blink, the pure elder interrupted.
âA pure father saw you last night,â Vimal wheezed, leaning forward in his chair as I kept my violent heart attack to myself, âand he came to ask me if youâd been mothered yet. He could have sworn you were of age by now.â
Itâs remarkable that we fooled them for so long, the demon muttered in disappointment.
I plastered a look of confusion on my face and asked, âNo one mentioned Iâd turned eighteen yet⌠am I eighteen?â I swung my legs casually from the chair. âAnd why is Mehr here?â
âSomeone changed the birthdate on your records,â he said, pulling out a roll of parchment. âI donât know who did it, but whatâs done is done.â He didnât look at me, and I chose to just wait him out in silence with a confused expression. âAnyway, weâve clearly neglected you for too long, so you will be mothered.â
Itâs fine; weâll be gone before thâ
âWhich will be tonight,â he announced.
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffened in alarm, prickling like wandering spiders. I turned to give Mehr a meaningful look, waiting for him to say that I wasnât fit to be a spouseâthat I was touched already. But Mehr, once again, did not meet my gaze, and my worry increased threefold.
âSo why is Mehr here?â I inquired, still shooting looks at him.
âHe will be your pure father.â
âI am honored to have been chosen,â Mehr said solemnly, and I gaped. Weâd had a plan! How could he betray me like this? Even if heâd been the one to touch me, the ceremony would still be ruined!
âI am not fit to bââ I started saying, initiating the lie for him if he wasnât going to be brave enough.
âYes, you are,â Mehr argued, suddenly acting like a complete stranger to me. âYou are untouched and pure, and Iâm honored to become your spouse.â Then he did something strange; he glanced down at my breasts.
I stood up immediately, so thrown off guard that I wasnât able to think straight. The room greyed from a head rush, not helping my immediate confusion, and I groped for the back of the chair to stay steady. What was happening here?
âIgnore her odd behavior,â the pure elder dismissed. âSheâs been late with her potions, apparently. Her mind isnât right.â
âThat means the ceremony will wait until Iâm better?â I asked, grabbing onto a fragile ray of hope.
âNo. Weâve waited too long.â
The ray of hope snapped under my grip, and reality caught up to me. Iâd been betrayed, and I'd run out of time. I swallowed heavily as my eyes darted between the pure elder and the man Iâd thought was my friend. If I stayed in the village, Mehr could force me into his bed tonight. Even though all our newborns died upon delivery, we were still pressured to make them. My friend Gerlind was due any day now, and weâd already dug the small grave.
Youâre not thinking about anything helpful, the demon warned. Focus on getting us out of this mess.
âYou are excused, Niusha. A pure mother will find you later to prepare you for the ceremony.â
I did what I could to suppress my reeling so I could continue my act, curtseying with just a pinch of anger. If I appeared complacent, itâd be just as suspicious. It was a fine line to walk, but shock thickened the path. âIt will be as you say,â I replied bitterly, turned on my heel, and did my best to look defeated. It wasn't that much of a deception.
Leaving the temple had my mind rushing for solutions. Even the wind swaying my hair felt a touch panicked. Escaping in broad daylight with six children sounded impossible, and I wouldnât put it past the pure elder to have me watched until the evening ceremony.
We should go before midmeal. Everyone will be at the temple, and theyâll assume weâre running late, at least for a few precious minutes, the demon suggested.
I frowned at the idea, knowing it might be the best opportunity, but it didnât leave me a lot of time to quietly gather the children. At least the orphan huts were all in one spot, which meant I didnât have to go traipsing suspiciously all over the village. What excuse could I give if I was caught herding the small ones to the jungle?
A scream pierced the walls of one of the pure motherâs houses, startling my already upset body. It sounded like it had come from Gerlindâs home. When murmuring and shouting followed her cry, I had to assume sheâd gone into labor. My heart sank, knowing I wouldnât be around to comfort her after she lost this child.
As I neared my hut, anxious and distressed, footsteps swished through the weeds from behind me. I whirled and scowled to find Mehr following. What did he want? I certainly did not want to talk to him! I rushed to enter my home, but he grabbed my arm. I stared up at him to find his calm face flushed and his eyes dilated more than what the purity wrought.
âDonât touch me!â I hissed, yanking my wrist out of his grip. âYou betrayed me! I trusted you!â I bared my teeth in fury, seething from the depths of my soul.
Mehr raised his hands in bland supplication. âForgive me, Niusha,â he said with a shrug. âI would have done it if youâd been mothered to someone else.â
âYou were supposed to do it, period!â I retorted furiously, trying not to shriek and attract attention.
âIsnât it better to be mothered to someone you like?â he drawled, stepping closer to me.
âI donât like liars!â Well, I didnât like people who lied with bad intentions. I took a step back, not liking the eager gleam in his eyes. How had I not seen it?
âYou hear the screaming and yelling all the time. I think youâll forgive me once you realize I wonât abuse you like the others do,â he articulated slowly, like I was misunderstanding and overreacting.
âSo you wonât touch me tonight?â I asked, narrowing my eyes. My hand drifted to the wrist heâd grabbed.
He laughed and shook his head. âNo. I plan on touching every inch of you.â He raised his hand and brushed his knuckles over the rise of my right breast. âIâve wanted you for so many years.â
I hadnât expected him to ever get that close to me. Cold, repulsive electricity had me recoiling just as he cupped my breast through my clothes. Every inch of me prickled with violation, and though my mind threatened to freeze on me, I had enough sense to slap away his hand. The violent act spurred my outrage. I couldnât believe heâd touched me!
âHow dare you? You had no right!â I hissed shrilly, trying not to scream at him.
I reached for the doorknob with a shaking hand, but he pulled me back and planted his lips on mine. Never would I have expected Mehr to force my first kiss upon me. I grimaced in disgust, stretched my lips flat, and turned my head away to escape his cold kiss. His hand found my breast again, squeezed it, then released me. My last shove against himâsuddenly met with no resistanceâthrew me into the door. Stunned and almost blind with fury, I swung my fist at him, but he retreated enough to make me miss.
He laughed lazily as he retreated, unbothered by my fuming. âIâll see you tonight, Nini,â he called with a grin and sent me a friendly wave, as if heâd done nothing wrong. âDonât be so upset. Youâll come around. Remember, weâre friends, right?â
I didnât watch him leave. I could not live a second longer with his spit on my skin. Horror-struck, I ducked into my hut, slammed the door, and rubbed feverishly at my mouth, trying to get every part of him off me. Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed some soap and washed my lips, but I worried I wouldnât have enough soap in the world to make him go away. When bitter suds found their way into my mouth, I gagged and leaned over the basin, now at risk of vomiting. A tiny sob escaped along with the tears trickling down my face, but I bit back the rest that bubbled up into my throat. I had to get control over myself. I didnât have time for this!
âNini?â Tahmina inquired, and I jerked my gaze over to find her sitting up in bed with a scared frown. âWhatâs wrong, Nini? I heard Mehr out there, but I didnât understand what the fight was about.â
Oh no, what should I say? I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. My body trembled uncontrollably, and my nerves sat on the precipice of panic, but I couldnât allow my brain to remain stunned like this. I almost felt like Iâd imbibed an entire bowl of the purity. I hadnât felt this weak in a long time.
âI⌠I was mad that⌠Uh, he told me that a pure father predicted a storm in a couple nights, which will ruin our secret surprise trip! We have to leave today if weâre to go at all. The rainâs supposed to last over a week!â I lied, praying that Tahmina wouldnât parade around telling everyone about the looming change in weather. âI was mad because I was the last one to find out. Then the fight turned into something else... but itâs not important,â I finished with a wavering smile and the wave of a hand. Oh, I was crumbling. I was crumbling hard.
Amazingly, Tahminaâs face lit up, and she stood to jump on her sleeping pallet. âYes, yes, yes! When are we going, Nini?â she cried, clapping in delight.
âHush, hush,â I cautioned, making her eyes go wide, and she clamped her hands over her mouth. âWeâll leave right before lunch because⌠Iâm taking us on a picnic first!â
âDo the others know? Can I tell them? Please, please, please?â she squealed quietly, placing her fists over her grin and displaying a gap left by a recently departed baby tooth.
Itâs less suspicious than you running around gathering them, the demon mused. Risky, though, if they get too excited and someone overhears.
I wished I could reply, but I couldnât in front of Tahmina. I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, and said, âOk, but remember that itâs a secret! Only the young orphans know so we can surprise the adults who took us into their homes. You want to bring them back little unexpected treasures to show your gratitude, yes? Theyâve done so much for us.â
âYes, yes, yes! Iâll be so careful! Iâll tell them to be here before the mid-meal bell!â she squeaked happily and skipped out of the hut. I winced and rested my face in my palms, needing a moment to just breathe. Oh, I was taking such a huge risk.
Knowing the risk still needed taking, I solidified my resolve, changed clothes, checked the bags to make sure everything was packed, and hid them once more. The only thing I removed from my bag was the dinner knife Iâd stolen ages ago, and I placed it on the small table next to my bed. All I had to do was wait for the young ones.
I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered. Now that I was alone with my thoughts, I kept feeling Mehrâs hands and lips on me. Cold lips. Not even the knife next to me was a comfort. What would I even do with it? Would a knife even scare a man?
No, no, I couldnât be alone right now. Maybe I should check on Gerlind. I still had some time.
Hoping that Mehr wasnât nearby, I left the hut and walked quietly to Gerlindâs house. This would be her third attempt to deliver a living child, and I couldnât imagine what must be going through her mindâwhat she must be feeling. It seemed so painful, so pointless, to be a pure mother, doomed to suffer hours of agony just to bring a corpse into the world. Usually, I stayed away from the delivering pure mothers to give them space in their grief, but I desperately needed a distraction. Thereâd be no harm in lingering nearby, right? I could pray for Gerlind, her pure father, and her stillborn from a distance.
I didnât pray with the villageâs religion anymore, but rather my own. I prayed to the sun that warmed my skin, the stars that told me where I was, and the moon that made the night paths glow. I prayed to the earth beneath my feet as well, thanking them for nourishing the crops that we used to feed the other orphans.
Hours passed, and as it drew close to mid-meal, I drooped in my prayer, saddened that I might have to leave before Gerlind delivered. Before I could get to my feet, however, her cries stopped and were followed by relieved noises. I perked up and peeked into a side window, spying a pure mother walking away from a crying Gerlind, carrying a bloody⌠creature. I blanched at the wretched sight. Iâd never seen a baby before, but that couldnât possibly be a baby⌠could it? It had tiny humanlike hands and feet, humanlike puffy legs, and a humanlike belly. It might be a small person, but it was horribly ugly, wrinkly. Was this why all our babies died? Were they all deformed? It certainly didnât look like a small version of Tahmina; that was a certainty.
Curious, I followed the pure motherâs march into another room where she ended up slapping the dead thing. When it started screaming and crying, I nearly fell dead myself. What was happening? What was I witnessing? I glanced over into the other room to find the pure father attempting to comfort Gerlind.
âYou know how it is,â he said to his sobbing Gerlind, putting his hands over her ears with a pained expression. âDonât listen to her soul leaving her body.â
I frowned and ducked over to see what the pure mother was doing to the deformed baby. It was dead? It certainly didnât look dead. Its limbs jerked as it wailed, reminding me of one of Tahminaâs tantrums. Continuing as if she wasnât handling a dead body, the pure mother cleaned the baby, wrapped a cloth around its bottom, and placed it in a padded case. It was still screaming.
Why would they put a diaper on a dead child? the demon asked, sounding as befuddled as I felt. I dropped under the window with my back to the wall and chewed on a nail while I thought about it. We were either matched with a spouse or made to disappear. Maybe they took all the babies to the same place the missing adult orphans went?
They were stealing children. Sure, they were deformed⌠but perhaps they thought they were possessed by demons? It certainly wasnât their fault they were ugly. I wasnât deformed, and I had a demon inside of me. I placed a hand to my forehead and swept it over my head, making a disheveled mess of my hair.
Deeply confused and unsettled, I pondered to myself, If I told Gerlind about the baby being alive, would they let her keep it?
Not likely, the demon said, reading my mind, which always startled me. Itâd been getting better at that lately. It would raise too many questions about the other babies.
The more I thought about the strange infant, the more panic seeped into my chest. Then the bell signifying the mid-meal hour tolled, and I gasped. I was late! With a reluctant heart, I snuck away from poor Gerlindâs house and hurried to my hut to find six orphans sitting in a circle, passing a ball of yarn back and forth. They looked up at me with grinning faces and put their fingers to their lips, except for Jam, whose finger was currently up one of his nostrils.
âGross!â Anaitis exclaimed, wrinkling her freckled nose. Sam slapped his twinâs arm, who withdrew his digit with a sigh that sounded far too world-weary for someone his age. I glanced at them all while checking for adults in my peripheral vision, but I didnât notice anyone else. I stepped into the hut that Iâd never call home again and handed the backpacks to the children.
âRun on down to the edge of the jungle and wait for me! Stay together and donât let anyone see you! Remember weâre on a top secret mission!â I grinned and tickled Fulcoâs side. He doubled over, giggling and squirming away from me. It was so hard to smile right now. My stomach twisted into knots, my heart pounded, and a lump in my throat fought to keep me from swallowing.
The children ran off to the jungle. The eldest, Gerhard, was barely ten years old, and the youngest, Anaitis, was only six. I squeezed my nervous, clammy hands together, attempting to warm them as I fumbled over the hardest decision yet. I didnât know how to take care of a baby; the youngest orphans Iâd ever met were out of diapers and fairly competent.
Wherever that infant is going cannot be good if theyâre faking its death, the demon pointed out with distaste.
âHow odd for a demon to care about a babyâs fate,â I whispered to it. âYou truly surprise me.â
Maybe demons have babies too? I donât know any more about it than you.
I stared at my backpack and set my brows. If I was going to do this, I might as well be thorough about it. I placed the backpack at the door and walked calmly to Gerlindâs home. When I peeked through the windows, I found the other pure mothers hovering over the poor woman.
âWhy do they keep dying?â she wailed. Her face was as red, scrunched, and swollen as what sheâd birthed not that long ago. It broke my heart to see her in such a state.
âYouâll try again, Gerlind. You must pray harder this time. You canât give up. Weâre fighting the good fight, you know,â a pure mother urged, patting her hand.
I scowled and snuck to the back door, opening it quietly to steal the wicker case housing the infant. I slipped out, holding the case as still as possible, but worried over its silence. The baby was quiet now; maybe it had died after all. I didnât open the case until I got to the hut, and when I did, I discovered that the baby was merely asleep. It was definitely breathing.
âOh, youâre still alive!â I nearly fell to my knees in relief. With renewed purpose, I threw my backpack on and left to find the children in the jungle, praying that the small bundle would stay quiet.
âNiusha?â someone called in the distance, and lightning crackled through my skin. I walked faster, assuming I hadnât been spotted yet. I couldnât look behind me.
âNiusha? Niusha?â That was Mehrâs voice now, which was closer. I must be missed. My swishing skirts suddenly sounded too loud as I rushed down the hill toward the dense underbrush and vine-covered trees. Thick roots and loose dirt threatened to send me tumbling with every nervous step.
I cringed as more people from the village began calling my name, but as soon as I stepped into the overgrown, steep decline of the jungleâs entrance, I put on a broad smile for the waiting orphans. We were out of sight but we had to keep moving.
âAre you all ready?â I asked in an excited whisper, and the little orphans nodded, barely able to contain their squeals. âLetâs go find some treasure then! Weâll eat in a little bit, I promise!â
They lined up to follow me, giggling quietly like theyâd gotten into sugarcane juice. I was glad they were behind me; it meant they couldnât see the terror I was trying to fight off my face.
Thanks to Reedsy/Discovery for an ARC of this book. I read a sample of chapter one and was so impressed, that I knew I had to read the rest. Itâs an epic tale with two heroâs journeys, Niusha and Javed, and although it had the potential to be dragged out and turned into multiple books in a series, Iâm glad it wasnât. The book is a complete, stand-alone telling of an original tale, full of intrigue, danger, and romance. It's being added to my list of favorites on Goodreads, and Asha Nyr is an author I will gladly read again.
We begin with Niusha, an âorphanâ in a village who has realized that all is not as it seems. Several years earlier, she managed to change the birth records to falsify her age. While she is 23, the village elders believe she is only 18. Unfortunately, at 18 she will be spoused with a male member of the village and forced to carry babies that are guaranteed to die. She decides to run away with the other children of the village to save them, and herself, from the dreadful fate she sees ahead of them. Just before she leaves, one of her best friends delivers a baby whom she is told is dead, but Niusha observes that the baby is alive, so she takes her along with her group.
Niusha is unprepared for the harsh realities of the jungle surrounding the village. Luckily, Javed, someone who has been exiled to the jungle, observes her, realizes sheâs his fated mate, and further realizes he must watch out for her and her charges and guide them to safety. His intention is to lead her to safety and be on his way because he doesnât want to mess up her life the way his has been; but as they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Javed is unable to maintain his distance, particularly when ruffians attempt to kidnap one of the little girls and when some do kidnap Niusha. He tries to keep himself hidden for reasons that are unclear. And heâs mute, another mystery. We know that Javed is hiding from his past, but we also know heâs a decent and kind man, so weâre anxious to find out what exactly happened. We also know heâs some kind of a cat shifter; we later find out heâs a tiger. It becomes clear that Niusha must be some kind of a cat shifter, but since she is unaware of it, the reader is also unclear on what she may be.
What we do know is that Niusha is a force of nature. Sheâs strong, courageous, and confident in her abilities, even if, at times, her confidence seems misplaced. She slowly comes to understand the connection between Javed and herself and is committed to preserving what they have. However, much like Javed, she is quick to put the needs of others before her own because she recognizes the importance of serving the greater good. She puts herself in a position to become a martyr, but fortunately for us, the story has a HEA.
The writing is often poetic, always engaging, and incredibly vivid. Javedâs old friend, Quennel says the funniest profanity-laden things I may have ever read. I canât quote them here because, as I mentioned, they were profanity-laden. Suffice to say, there were some hysterical, original combinations. And I was amused by Niushaâs observation: â...first impressions were sometimes as helpful as roofless huts in a rainstorm,â because it was a callback to the way she lived in the village before her escape.
I was struck by the way this author cleverly camouflaged an information dump by making one person miss everything that had happened and another had to fill them in. I didnât even realize what was happening at first. Once I did, I gave a nod of approval. Well done.
Speaking of clever, there were a couple of things that jumped out at me for the inventive ways they were phrased. â...more tears streamed down her red cheeks, the whites of her eyes rouging from salt water and emotion.â And this one made me chuckle: âHer kiss seared with a deep passion, seeping into the very marrow of my bones and further stimulating a part of my body that was becoming as hard as one.â
At first, the story seems like it might be G-rated, possibly PG, but once Niusha and Javed give in to their instincts, it quickly escalates to R (maybe even X). Normally, I might feel like the sex took over the story, but because they were driven by an animalistic need to be close to one another, to mark one another, and so forth, it worked. It was an expression of their soul-connection. That said, there were one or two descriptions that made me cringe, but that may be due to my own hangups.
There were a couple of inconsistencies, which I have pointed out to the author, so hopefully, they will be fixed before publication. I only mention them here in case my observations are ignored. Overall, I genuinely enjoyed the story and found myself totally immersed in their world, rooting for their success, and believing every bit of what was clearly a fantasy. I highly recommend it.