Decisions, page 8
Eden glanced over in surprise, his eyes and hair lit silver beneath the moon.
She had seen his beauty stun people silent in the daylight, but there was something special about him under the stars. It seemed to suit him just as well as the bright sunshine; even better, perhaps, because it held a special quality. Like the two had been drawn together in confidence, sharing stories and whispering secrets, cloaked in the gathering dark.
“Are you two channeling now?” he teased, eyes flicking between her and the vampire. “Has he tasked you with fretting over me in the nighttime hours?” He smiled, as she blushed. “I am not cold, and the pain is nearly gone. By tomorrow, I doubt I’ll feel anything.”
Tomorrow.
She nodded silently, stunned by what had transpired in a single day.
“It’s strange to think of,” he said quietly, guessing her thoughts, “is it not?” He rolled onto his side as well, keeping one hand behind him, resting on Evander. “Only this morning, your wolf attempted a bold-faced seduction. By this afternoon, I am hearing the vampire’s thoughts.”
She laughed under her breath, nearly forgetting the humorous way in which the pair had awoken. Given everything that had happened since, she supposed there was no point in asking him to keep the secret. The vampire could simply look for it, searching the quiet corners of his mind.
“It’s only with him?” she asked shyly, having heard the answer many times before. It was one of the first questions she’d asked, half-terrified it might be catching. “It’s all the time?”
His face softened as he propped onto his arm. “It’s only with him,” he said again, quiet and reassuring. “And no, it isn’t all the time. I was afraid it might be; I could not imagine being so guarded with my thoughts. But it’s merely another layer,” he concluded. “Another point of connection between him and myself.”
She stared at him quietly, trying to imagine what it must be like.
At first glance, it must be something of a marvel, to have blended so intrinsically with the one you loved. On second thought, she could understand the fae’s impulse to run. Instead of saying either of these things, she found herself reaching suddenly for another.
“Jesse told me today, I am the reason he’s started making plans.” She warmed at the mere memory, flashing a look over her shoulder. He was stretched out on the cloak beside her, one arm thrown carelessly above his head. “We never did that, growing up. But he’s doing it now.”
Eden smiled to himself, eyes flicking between them. “You never made plans?”
“There was never a point,” she answered with a shrug. “Life in the village would change dramatically, according to each year’s harvest. People were born and buried in the same town. There was never any notion of changing things, never any discussion for what was coming next.”
She might have said more, but there didn’t seem a point to that either. Those days were behind her, a chapter closed for good. At any rate, the fae had been alive for centuries, and had seen glimpses of such things himself. A pensive frown creased his brow as he turned back to the stars.
“My life was always the opposite,” he admitted softly, tracing the lines and constellations. “I cannot remember a time before we were moving, to have settled somewhere would have felt a kind of dream. But there was predictability as well,” he added unexpectedly, “certain customs I expected, values that were meant to be upheld. Almost nine hundred years...I was always so sure.”
She tilted her head curiously. “...and now?”
He stilled for a moment, then lit with a dawning smile. “Now, I cannot wait to find out.”
Chapter 7
Kiera awoke in a tangle of hair and sunshine, feeling the morning itself had been dripped into her veins. Her pulse fluttered lightly, and the pendant lay resting against her skin. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached up and held it, running a finger along the seam.
It’s going to be a good day.
Filled with this certainty, she rolled out of bed and pushed to her feet, glancing swiftly around the clearing. The shifter was gone, probably on an early morning run, and the immortals were still sleeping—looking like a pair of lovely teenagers, curled together beside the spent fire.
She stared at them a moment, filled with a sudden remembrance of everything that had happened the day before. It seemed impossible they had reconciled it so quickly, such an immense and permanent change. She wondered if they could hear each other dream.
Her eyes strayed a bit further to the slab of venison that had been left beside the fire. It was a mark of how tired they’d been the night before, no one had thought to move it. Even the least practiced of travelers would never have been so careless; leaving plates of meat in a forest crammed with wolves and bears. She tipped it quietly into the ashes, stacking some pieces of kindling on top.
I suppose such things matter less when you’re sleeping beside a vampire.
She glanced around the clearing, looking for where they’d stashed the pile of flint. The others would be awake soon, and thinking of breakfast. It would help to start a fire. Her brow creased as she scanned the blankets before returning suddenly to the kindling.
Flint?
With a bit of trepidation, she knelt beside the ring of ashes, feeling the sun on her shoulders and the wind at her back. Casting a quick look, to make sure the others were still sleeping, she lifted a single finger, touching it to the base of the pile. There was a rush of heat, a sudden spark.
Her face warmed with satisfaction, as the fire glowed to life.
A good day.
Still armed with that inexplicable smile, she extracted her cloak from the pile and slipped it around her shoulders, waiting to shake the pine needles until she was away from the clearing, lest the others woke at the sound. In the early days, she would have gotten a lecture if she’d dared to wander from the campsite. That would have come from Jesse. When the fae heard the news, she would have been lectured again. But those concerns seemed long behind her. Perhaps they had merely given up, exasperated and trusting in their own ability to find her, and in the weapons that hung from her belt.
Perhaps three days choking on smoke finally convinced them I can take care of myself.
Without a clear direction in mind, she set off across the forest, drinking in the clean air and humming to herself by the rhythm of her steps. It came to her that she could gather the makings of a great breakfast. The fae couldn’t subsist on gooseberries alone, yet was never concerned with such mortal necessities himself. If it weren’t for the continued efforts of the vampire, and centuries of instinct, he would cheerfully starve. She unclasped the cloak from her shoulders and pulled up the corners to fashion it into a kind of bag—filling the depths with whatever provisions she could carry.
The forest opened its arms to greet her, filled with such lush profusion, it was as if the gods themselves had been thinking the same thing. She stuffed her hands with huckleberries and wild cherries, wood sorrel and fiddleheads, and the roots of a small white flower the fae had taught her to forage himself. A little ways on, she came to a stop in front of wide thicket, and filled her cloak with violets and persimmons. The fabric strained and smelled like a market.
Before long, she’d packed it almost to brimming.
Pleased with her efforts, but not yet ready to return, she wandered a little higher, skirting the alpine trail, until she came at last to the summit—a great dome of rock, standing proud amidst the rest of the peaks. Dawn had come early, but the mountains were warm and the sky was streaked with color—a riot of vibrant golds and glimmering pinks, feathered with little wisps of clouds.
She paused a moment on the precipice, looking over the canyon and feeling like the entire world was beneath her. It seemed a place too big for mortals. A place where giants broke stone, and gods broke bread. A place untethered to anything, lost in the vastness of that wide and open sky.
Are you watching?
Thinking back on it later, she didn’t know to whom she was speaking. The thought had come so suddenly, she didn’t even give it breath to come aloud. There was nothing but a feeling, almost like a memory. The knowledge of something that could not yet entirely be known.
That was when she heard the growl.
She felt the creature, before she saw it—freezing with instinctual stillness, like a rabbit who felt the hawk’s shadow from the sky. There was no way of telling what it might be, she was too far to see its shadow. But she heard the crunch of dried grass as it moved forward, its body low and bristling, stalking fearlessly towards her across the scraping dome.
For a moment, there was nothing but fear. It had been folly to wander on her own, and she’d presented the world’s easiest target: a young woman on her own, back turned, carrying a satchel of food. If she’d dusted herself with herbs, the meal couldn’t have been finer. The hair raised on the back of her neck, and her heart started pounding. She thought vaguely of her knife, but it seemed a greater risk to grab it. Such a movement would set the beast to pounce—and chances were, the blade would be knocked from her hand before she could level it in time.
The pendant glowed on her chest, and she thought of something different. The knife was foolish, the fear was absurd. With a confidence that was still growing, rising and shaping into form, she turned in a fluid motion and lifted her hand. A chocolate wolf was crouched in the grass behind her, its teeth bared in a menacing growl, its legs already curled beneath it, ready to spring.
They froze in a moment of surreal suspension, two players staring across the board.
I know those eyes.
“Jess?”
The wolf sprang a second later, knocking her to the ground so lightly, not a single piece of food spilled from her hands. Of course, then he started shaking her and all hope was lost. Those massive jaws clamped on her ribcage, delicate as candy floss, and the sweet musk of fur swept over her as she pressed into the grass. With a laughing shriek, she pounded her fists against him, kicking and twisting, fighting against that impossible weight, as his vicious snarls ripped into the sky.
From a distance, it must have looked horrifying. And utterly cruel. Why would the beast take such time when the fight was already over? Why draw out such terror and pain?
Then the wolf disappeared, and a man appeared in its place.
There you are.
He was warmed by the sun and smiling, his lean body stretched like a canopy above her, with strong arms planted on either side. Dark hair swung from the sides of his face, tickling her cheeks, as he bent into the space between them and pressed a kiss to her lips. He tasted of fresh water and strawberries. The distant gullies and canyons still echoed with her breathless cries.
“Good morning,” he said lightly.
She gazed up at him, head nestled in the grass. “Good morning.”
Instead of rolling to the side, he lingered—needing only a single hand to steady himself, as the other swept back a tousled lock of her hair. His green eyes warmed with affection, and he twirled it around his finger, still feeling playful, despite the lack of claws and teeth.
“I shouldn’t sneak up on you anymore,” he admitted with a grin, pressing another kiss to the curve of her eyebrow. “It’s getting too dangerous. You could have roasted me alive.”
She thought back to that first moment he’d entered the clearing, when she’d found in herself a sudden rising, and lifted her hands. How close she had come to doing it. She shuddered.
“I still might,” she said lightly, covering it well. “You spilled my breakfast.”
“Your breakfast?” he asked with a laugh, glancing at the pieces of food strewn across the tall grass. It was not damaged, only scattered. A few berries had caught between them, staining his wrist a bloody red. “This is enough for ten grown men. What are you intending to do with all this?”
“I’m intending to feed it to Eden,” she answered, trailing her fingers across his ribs. “He will never think of it himself, and it will earn me a permanent place in the vampire’s good graces.”
He shivered a little beneath her touch.
“Eden hates persimmons.”
“Those are for you.”
He picked one up with a boyish grin, shining the peel on his arm. In those early days, his nakedness might have shocked her, or even shamed him, but neither of them thought anything of it now. They merely peeled themselves apart, sitting together in the wind-tossed grass.
The sun had cleared the peaks, and warm light was flooding into the canyon, spilling down the alpine slopes and pooling on the valley floor. From their lofty perch, they saw it unfurl like a blanket, golden and endless, quick-moving, as the sun lifted overhead. They chewed on pieces of fruit, and watched a while in silence. After a time had passed, she turned towards the east.
“Eden says we are nearly to the tower,” she murmured, staring across the peaks. “He said he glimpsed the tip of it the other day, as we were walking. It must be truly immense.”
Jesse followed her gaze, squinting into the distance. Far as his eyes could stretch, they could see nothing beyond the shining slopes of the mountains. He tried anyway, lifting a shading hand.
“That’s when everything starts,” he answered quietly.
There was something different in his voice and she glanced over in surprise, studying the side of his face. His arms circled round his knees, and his eyes were trained on the far side of the mountains. Every muscle was coiled, like he could span that mighty distance in a single leap.
“Things will be different after we do this,” he continued suddenly, turning to face her. “No matter what ends up happening to us, things here will be different. It is a step we are taking.”
And he is ready for it.
A passing look at him, confirmed it. The wolf was young and hungry, almost bursting out of his skin. He’d been that way for a while, she realized. Like a slow-burning fire someone had left unattended until morning. What had started as one thing, had grown into something else.
Yes, he was ready for it.
She thought he would say it.
He ended up saying something different instead. “I’m glad we’re taking it together.”
Her heart swelled and lifted. She reached for his hand.
“Come on,” she said softly, “I’m making breakfast.”
THEY GATHERED UP THE food and tucked it back into her cloak, pulling up the corners and vowing the second they found a market, the first thing they were getting was a bag. The hour had slipped away in the time they’d been talking. By the time they neared the clearing, there were sounds in the distance, flashes of movement by the fire. The immortals had awoken.
Odd sounds. Odd movements.
Kiera pulled up short, staring with a puzzled expression.
It wasn’t anything unfamiliar, she was just having trouble placing it. Given the context of their surroundings, she found herself utterly lost. Jesse caught on quicker, though some part of him couldn’t believe it. He stopped before they could get any closer, throwing an arm across her chest.
“Wait here a moment.”
She nodded silently, waiting as he ventured into the trees. There was a great deal of foliage still between them. It was difficult to see exactly what was happening, but she heard the shouts.
“How many times must I say it? NOT in a shared space!”
That was Jesse. The vampire was more direct.
“I have been patient with the wolf, my love. As you have asked. Now I believe it’s time I kill him.”
There was a time that might have been enough to send Jesse screaming, but he’d grown up a lot since then. Instead of cringing away, he stepped forward, jabbing his finger in the air.
“Don’t even start with me, Evander. Now you’re going to get yourselves dressed, and be presentable for breakfast. Kiera has been working very hard, and I expect you all to enjoy it.”
She never saw the way his eyes narrowed at the vampire, as if to say, Even you.
“You hear how he threatens me?”
The shifter was already storming back through the trees, taking a few seconds to compose himself, before stepping into sight. He paused for a moment, then decided he couldn’t say it. “They were indisposed. I’m sure it’s better now.” He flashed a strained smile, offered his arm. “Shall we?”
She snorted with laughter. “We shall.”
With almost comical slowness, the pair started heading through the forest, dragging their feet and making as much intentional noise as possible. As if this wasn’t enough, Jesse cupped his hands halfway there and called, “You two better not have started, again!” To which Eden cheerfully replied, “We’re coming!” His face darkened into a scowl, as Kiera fell to pieces at his side.
“Do not encourage them,” he chided, giving her a playful shove. “You know they can hear you laughing. It is a freakish quality,” he added in a louder voice before muttering, “Along with their complete lack of boundaries...”
She righted herself with a grin, braids swinging into her face.
“You sound like such a father,” she teased, lowering her voice into a brood. “Your mother made breakfast, now come sit at the table. Don’t start,” she added, remembering with a smile.
That smile faded at the look on his face.
Why did I just say that?
She looked at him, paralyzed, forgetting even how to blink. Words froze on her tongue, and her throat felt like a rock had been crammed in the middle. She turned away quickly, scrambling.
“They are unforgivable,” she deflected, forcing attention back to the immortals. “We should start instituting penalties, make them take second watch for a week—”
“I like children,” he said quietly.
Her heart stilled in her chest.
“Wolves are raised with big families, ours was an exception. I suppose I always expected one day I’d be a father. One day,” he added quickly, flashing a sideways glance. “I’m in no rush for that.”
