Chapter 18
Soren was accustomed to waking up beside another; in the pride and on their travels, he often slept beside at least one of his brothers for safety, comfort, and warmth.
Waking up beside Maeve was all of that and more.
Diffused morning light streamed in through the linen curtains, surrounding them in a halo of warmth.
The bedding had ended up in a tangle around their waists, but there was no chance of being chilly with Soren’s right wing covering them both.
Beneath the feathers, Maeve fit effortlessly against him, the arch of her back following the bulk of his chest. Reddish-gold hair strewn across the pillow caught the sunlight like gold thread, and the feminine curve of her shoulder was too much to resist.
Soren pressed a kiss to her bare skin, breathing in her warm sweetness.
How had he gotten so lucky? He still felt in a daze from last night, his body buzzing in the afterglow. They’d made love multiple times before falling into each other’s arms, bodies completely spent. Soren had poured everything he was into Maeve, and she took it all as though it was her due.
Unused to happiness lasting longer than a few moments, Soren wasn’t sure his heart could bear it. The organ felt too big for his chest, as if he himself needed to be bigger to contain all that Maeve had made it.
He rationalized that the novelty of it bred no small amount of sentimentality. He didn’t dare allow himself to think about what this meant beyond that day or the next. Such thoughts could only bring disappointment.
Still, he couldn’t stop the smallest, most fragile kernel of hope from taking root.
As she came awake slowly in his arms, Soren savored the cozy domesticity of the morning. He could understand why Balar had been desperate to live with Imogen, to sleep in the same bed each night and come awake together each morning. Such a thing could easily become addicting.
He wouldn’t allow himself to get that far, but he could enjoy what he had while he had it, surely.
Soren listened as her breathing and heartbeat rose to wakefulness. She luxuriated in a stretch that arched her back into his chest, and she straightened her arms all the way up to her fingers, splaying them against the sunlight. When she lowered them, it was onto his forearm to pet him there.
“Good morning,” she said, voice low and husky.
“Good morning, inaná,” he replied, bestowing another kiss to her shoulder.
He could just see the tip of her smile, urging him to draw her even closer, tightening his arms around her. Soren kissed along her shoulder to the curve where it met her neck. His whiskers tickled her sensitive skin, and Maeve giggled, lifting her shoulder and squirming in his arms.
“There’s no school today,” she said with another languid stretch.
“No, indeed.” It was his turn to trace her arm, gently running the tops of his claws up to her fingers, which he tangled with his.
There actually wouldn’t be any lessons at all for at least four days. Most schools, businesses, and civil offices were closed for the spring festivals taking place across the Darrowlands and Eirea itself.
Soren and his brothers had attended last year’s festivities; they were a charming celebration of spring, with lots of drinking, dancing, and flower arranging contests.
Women and children wore crowns of braided grasses and flowers while men wore blooms across their belts or at their collar.
Colorful ribbons were tied around poles in the town square, garlands were hung from gable to gable, and livestock were festooned with bright colors and flowers.
There were activities and contests for the children, and some intrepid adults, like rolling down hills in a potato sack, running into the nearby lake for the season’s first swim, and many chances to dance in big circles.
From what he understood, Imogen was determined to enter her prized goats into some sort of contest to decide if she had the best ones. She’d been grooming and brushing them for over a fortnight in preparation—likely why Kiri had been enlisted yesterday to stay with her and Balar and help.
“Were you planning to attend anything in particular?” Maeve asked, fiddling with his fingers.
“Balar has volunteered all of us to help set up tents this afternoon.”
“Good,” she said, rolling onto her other side to face him. “Then we have plenty of time.”
A surprised purr burst from his lips as he watched her kiss his chest and felt her hand snake down his middle. He clutched her closer by the waist, head falling back onto the pillow when she took hold of his very interested cock.
Enket at inan, what a way to start the day.
But before she could get too carried away, he asked, “Can I take you somewhere today?”
Her brows lifted in question, followed by a coy smile. Her hand began to work him, sliding up and down up and down, as her toes teased his shin.
It was only the beginning of an idea, but the more he thought about it—what little he could, with all his attention and blood rushing down down down—the more he liked it.
“Of course. After.”
“After,” he agreed and pounced, rolling them both and taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.
Hours later, when they were dressed, fed, and finally ready to emerge, the village was nearly empty, everyone already somewhere or other to help prepare for the festivals.
Danann itself wouldn’t be hosting its own celebration until next year, meaning there were few people around to pay Soren and Maeve any mind when they slipped out of his cabin.
Around the side, he bent to pick her up under the knees and back. Maeve gasped and giggled; she knew it was going to happen, but knowing didn’t suppress the noise of surprise and her giddy smile.
Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he’d told her to, Maeve said excitedly, “I’ve never flown before.”
Soren nodded, trying to hide how deeply that pleased him. He wanted to be her first in something. Give her a memory that was totally unforgettable, just as she’d given him many times over.
With Maeve held tight in his arms, Soren got a running start, legs pumping as his wings stretched and flapped.
In a few bounds, he threw them into the sky.
His wings strained under the added weight, but he fought for lift, and once they were above the trees, he caught a familiar updraft, using it to soar higher and higher in a controlled spiral.
Maeve whooped and laughed even as she dug her nails into the meat of his shoulder. Hair streaming behind them, eyes watering from the wind, she seemed both thrilled and terrified.
“We’re so high!” she squealed over the wind.
He could go higher, of course, but he had a fur pelt to keep him warm. Perhaps next time, with her in the proper clothing. For now, it was enough to carry her over the trees, the sun bright and big in the clear blue sky.
The journey wasn’t long, his favorite hill quickly rising above the others.
Distinct from its brethren, with its side shorn off by the wind, gray heart exposed, the escarpment loomed large over the landscape.
Some might see it as a scar, ugly in the face of the verdant forest and lush meadows that otherwise blanketed the area, but Soren liked its starkness.
He made the most careful landing of his life, coming in slow and steady. His feet touched down first, his wings softening the final descent. They landed at a slow run along the edge of the escarpment, in front of the cave he liked to explore.
Lowering Maeve to her own feet, he told her, “Wait here a moment.” He needed to ensure they were the only ones up here for now.
A quick look and sniff of the cave confirmed they wouldn’t disturb any beasties. Satisfied, Soren quickly rejoined Maeve.
It wasn’t particularly windy on the ground, but up here, a steady breeze lifted her hair and skirts. Although her arms were crossed over her chest to conserve body heat, she gazed in wide-eyed wonder at the sweeping vistas around them.
Soren came to stand beside her, draping a wing over her shoulders and drawing her by the waist into his side. Humming in pleasure, Maeve wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against him as she admired the landscape.
Far out on the hazy horizon, they could just see the jutting spires of Dundúran Castle.
Between them and Dundúran stretched a sea of trees, broken occasionally by the serpentine curve of a river or stream, as well as small, clear meadows that allowed the sun to reach the forest floor.
Imogen lived in one such meadow, and Soren could attest they made the best sunbathing spots.
What would it be like to sunbathe with Maeve?
Now there was a tempting idea. Laying in the sun, soaking up its warmth—it was one of life’s simplest but best pleasures. He imagined it would be as good as waking up beside her that morning, which only made him long for a nap in the sun with Maeve more.
“This is wonderful,” Maeve gushed. “I had no idea this was here.”
Soren stood a little straighter to hear it. “I come here often and wanted to share it with you. To show you something beautiful close to home.”
Perhaps, if there are things to see and do here, she won’t want to leave so soon.
It was another dangerous thought, one rooted in that pesky kernel of hope. He knew nothing good could come of it, that an ambitious woman like Maeve wouldn’t be swayed by a pretty view. Still, Soren…had to try.
When he dared look down at her, he found her looking up at him, her countenance serious. She likely knew his game, clever as she was, and he waited with dread for her to say something, that this was nice enough but there were sure to be much better things awaiting her out there.
She didn’t, though. She didn’t say anything, actually.
Instead, she replaced her head on his chest, snuggling even further into him.
Eventually, so quietly he almost didn’t hear, she murmured, “Thank you.”
Soren swallowed hard as he secured her even tighter to his side. He knew, deep down, that he couldn’t keep her here forever. Maeve was destined to fly on her own wings, and he’d not be the one to ground her.
Still, while he had her, he’d make the most of their time together.