Chapter 25
It was the most important and most inelegant landing of Soren’s life. He realized he’d miscalculated his angle and her speed too late, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer to scoop her up. Soren took the brunt of the crash, rolling Maeve above him as they skidded through tall grass and underbrush.
When they finally came to a stop, Soren was missing a few feathers and chunks of mane, and he was pretty sure his shirt had been torn somewhere—but none of that mattered.
Ibás, he hadn’t a plan better than get to Maeve.
He’d had vague ideas of needing to hear her side, if there was a chance she could feel for him even a fraction of what he did for her.
That need was nearly as wild as his turuk, eager to find her, love her, lick her head to toe to convince her to let him stay beside her.
Soren could hardly believe it himself, his thoughts a jumbled mess except for his need to be with her.
As the dust settled, a relieved breath puffed out of him, his wings collapsing on either side of them in the grass. A mad laugh escaped him next, and her head popped up from his chest at the sound.
“Soren!” she shrieked.
Clambering up his body, not caring where her knees went or what they dug into, Maeve planted her hands on his shoulders, holding him down to stare wild-eyed at him.
Kud, the giddy relief of finding her quickly subsided in the face of her shocked expression.
Pupils blown wide, locks of red-gold hair hanging in dusty, sweaty tangles, her body shaking, Maeve was the most disheveled he’d ever seen her.
Even after a night of lovemaking, she hadn’t looked half so rumpled.
Lifting his hands, he took hold of her waist to steady her. He felt how she trembled beneath his paws, and a plaintive purr sputtered in his chest.
“Sa-set, urisá, I have you now,” he soothed.
Although her shoulders still heaved, her chest expanding to pull in great gulps of air, something in her eyes shifted. As though seeing him for the first time, she yelped, “Fates, Soren!” and threw herself into his arms.
Maeve nuzzled his throat, as if she could bore into him to find the source of his purring. Soren held her tight, soothing himself with gentle kisses to her head. Her hair was indeed wild, but still smelled of her, and he wouldn’t waste an opportunity.
“I just came from the cabin, I went all over looking for you, I’ve been trying to find you,” she babbled.
Pushing her hair back from her face, Soren purred, “I’ve been looking for you, too, kigara.”
My whole life, I’ve been looking and waiting for you.
Maeve jolted up again at the word. So close, he saw that it wasn’t just beads of sweat running down her face but tears, too.
“No,” he groaned, “you mustn’t cry. I can’t bear it.”
She shook her head vehemently, pressing into his hand. “You still think I’m your kigara?”
“I know you are,” he said, his heart soaring high to say it. Ibás, what a joy it was just to admit it, to hold her to him and tell her, “You are my kigara, Maeve. The day we met, you were kigara. All the days since, you were kigara. Today, you are kigara. And tomorrow…”
“Even though—” Maeve sat up, wiping at her leaking eyes.
Soren followed her, wrapping her loosely in his arms to help wipe away the tears.
“—that letter,” she finally choked out. “I didn’t know about the offers until last night.
I swear it, Soren, I promise I didn’t know—I wouldn’t do that to you—I wouldn’t—”
“Shh, shh,” he soothed, “I know you wouldn’t, urisá.”
Hands kneading at his loose, ruined shirt, Maeve shuddered in his lap. “I don’t want to choose,” she wept. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Maeve.”
She shook her head, denying his words. “Everyone comes to dislike me eventually. Everyone leaves me eventually. So I leave them first.” She sucked in a long, panicked breath, and Soren bit his tongue, knowing she had to get it all out.
“I don’t want you to be unhappy with me,” she admitted in a little voice.
“I don’t want to make you unhappy or regret having me as your fated mate. I wish you’d found someone nicer.”
“No,” he growled, tangling his claws in her hair so she couldn’t turn away from him when he insisted, “I would have no one else. I want no one else, Maeve. You’re exactly what I need, exactly as you are.”
To his horror, more hot tears overspilled her lashes.
“That can’t be true. I don’t think I can have just a little life here.
I can’t give up my chance to do something.
I’d make us both miserable if I stayed.” She looked up at him, her eyes beseeching, and Soren’s heart ached for her. “I don’t want to hurt you, Soren.”
Bumping her nose with his, he nuzzled her gently, tasting the salt of her tears and sweat on her cheek. “You speak of all you don’t want. What then do you want, Maeve?” Whatever it was, he’d strive to grant it, but he had to know it first.
Her exhale was wobbly, but she took a moment to consider. “To be happy. To do something worthwhile.” Her face scrunched with another sob as she said, “To matter.”
“Oh, urisá,” he rumbled, pulling her tightly to his chest to cradle her against him. He wrapped himself around her, shielding her from the sun and dust, wishing he could banish all the sadness she carried.
“You matter, Maeve. You’re what matters most to me.”
“But Kiri, your brothers—”
“I love them dearly, yes. But they know what kigara means to a mantii. We came here searching for just such a treasure, and none of us would begrudge another for finding it.” Telling it to Maeve, he himself began to believe it, too.
They’d tried to tell him, for a long time now, but he wasn’t ready to hear or believe it.
You never listen to me, the turuk complained.
Now, though, he had to—for the both of them. At least until Maeve believed it herself.
“I always wish to keep a strong bond with my brothers, but it’s not uncommon for mantii males to leave their prides in search of new ones.
” Smoothing his hand over her hair, he told her, “I’d be honored to form a new pride with you, Maeve.
You possess the spirit of an erēz, fierce and ambitious.
I’d follow you wherever you choose to go. ”
Even as he said the words, he knew them to be true. It’d be false to say he wasn’t scared or worried about it. Even within the pride, he’d always had at least Balar. To strike out, just him and Maeve, would be a challenge—but if it meant her happiness, he’d do it.
“You can’t mean it,” she sobbed.
“I do. I would never stand in your way. But, if you allow it, I would stand beside you.”
He didn’t know if she was shaking her head or rubbing her cheek on his chest or both. What mattered to Soren was Maeve and her touch and her honesty.
“I don’t even have a plan, really. I don’t know what I want to do.”
“That’s all right, kam-kala. You’re young yet—there’s so much for you still to see and discover. I just wish to be by your side to do it.”
“I may never want children of my own, and if I do, it won’t be for a long while yet.”
That was a surprise, given how much she enjoyed her work as a teacher. Soren also couldn’t help feeling that she was looking for a weakness, a flaw in his argument—not to defeat him but to reassure herself. He’d give her that, give her anything she needed.
“I respect that. If given the chance, I think I’d like to be a father, but only if and when you’re ready to be a mother. If that day never comes, I will still be content, for I have the cleverest, boldest, most beautiful kigara in the whole world.”
We’ll make sure everyone knows it, too, purred the beast.
Dropping her face into her hands, Maeve groaned. “I’ll perish from how sweet you are, Soren.”
“Absolutely not,” he pouted. “You’re to accept it as your due.”
To his relief, that earned him a small, short giggle.
The sound set his heart alight, and something told him that the worst of the danger had passed.
Perhaps it was the more relaxed angle of her shoulders or the way she leaned into him.
Perhaps it was how she petted his chest rather than kneading it or the steadier rhythm of her heartbeat.
She’s accepted us, his turuk decided.
Don’t be cocky.
The beast just laughed and purred harder.
Soren waited patiently as Maeve finished with her tears, wiping the last of them away with the back of her hand.
After a moment, she pulled in a long, deep breath, her back straightening and her shoulders squaring.
Within one breath, he recognized the mate he’d come to know and love.
When she next looked at him, it was the confident Maeve, the playful, joyous, adorable Maeve.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before,” she said. “I just…how could I tell you this when I don’t even know myself?”
“It’s all right not to know. Not everything has to be decided at once.”
Maeve nodded. “That makes me feel much better, actually. I’ve been trying to think about what it is I want to do, where I want to go, but…the idea of doing it alone doesn’t appeal as much.”
“When the time comes, you’ll know it’s the right opportunity. Just as I knew you were for me the moment I saw you.”
A grin lifted her rosy lips. “What changed your mind?” she asked gently. She didn’t have to elaborate, he knew what she asked.
Taking his own deep breath, Soren admitted, “I suppose the time came that I had to decide. And I decided I don’t want to be without you, whatever that may mean or look like. And,” he couldn’t help but laugh, “there was some meddling.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, her grin growing wider. “Yes, I’ve had some of that as well.” Maeve leaned against him, snuggling into his chest. “I think we may have been a bit silly, Mister Soren.”
“I think that might be so, Miss Maeve.”
“In our defense, neither of us asked for this.”
“Or had any true experience with it.”
“And we couldn’t actually listen to our elder siblings—that would make them insufferable.”