4. Rhune #2
Blowing out a breath, I reach down and lift the youngling off the ground, cradling it to my chest. I will keep it alive and warm for my mate in case she likes her food fresh.
“You will know kindness for a while,” I say, petting its head softly. “I am sorry you could not know more.” My heart clenches in that odd way at the sad bleat that echoes from its open mouth.
Holding the crying creature close to my heart, I launch into the sky, heading in the direction of home.
I push the hide to the side and step past the threshold of my bedroom, taking a deep breath in through my nose. A pleasurable shudder runs through me as my human’s sweet scent fills my senses, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a groan.
I gaze around the room, my heart stuttering to a halt when I’m unable to spot her. I’m about to tear the room apart when a soft snore emanates from my pile of furs.
I let out a sigh, keeping my steps silent as I move closer to her sleeping form. She’s so small that she all but disappears in the massive pile of furs, and it’s no wonder I couldn’t find her when I first walked in.
The blankets rise and fall slowly, and I can tell the beat of her heart is steady. She’s asleep again.
I try to convince myself this is okay. Traversing realms takes a lot out of me when I make the journey, and I imagine it’s even more taxing on her fragile human body.
But still, I worry something is wrong with her.
Should she be sleeping this much? Surely, even a human should be over the portal sickness after a full cycle and a dip in the healing pools?
I walk silently to her side, crouching down next to the massive nest of furs.
I’m pleased to see my Willow’s skin is still filled with warmth, and I silently pat myself on the back for making a satisfactory nest. My soul-brothers made fun of me for wanting to cover my room in blankets, but now, it’s the only thing keeping her warm and happy.
Wanting to reach out and caress her, I place the baby antethorpe onto the ground—but as soon as I do, it lets out a soft bleat. It’s quiet, but it wakes Willow all the same.
Her eyes crack open slowly, her gaze unfocused from her deep sleep. I stare into her deep pools of green, marveling at their rare and beautiful color. There is nothing in The Far Place that resembles it, and it’s a wondrous thing to behold.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, pet.” I reach out, pinching a piece of her mane, rubbing the silky strands between the pads of my clawed fingers.
She pulls the blankets back, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “You know, you could try calling me by my name.”
I hang my head. “I did not think you would give it. You seem to… hate me…”
“Is that why you haven’t asked?”
I nod, my chest clenching with shame. “I did not want to give you another reason to be cross with me. I’m unfamiliar with most human customs, and I did not know if it would be rude for me to ask.”
She lets out a small laugh, and it’s enough to make my heart soar.
“My name is Willow,” she says. “Willow Wood.”
My eyes gleam. “Willow Wood. Now that I know your name, it makes it that much easier to worship you. To care for you.”
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, and she lowers her eyes. “That’s sweet of you to say…”
I take a breath, noting that her scent has changed. It’s sweeter now. Even more intoxicating than before. I salivate, wanting to move closer, to touch her. To claim her.
At that moment, the antethorpe bleats, and her eyes swing toward the creature. They widen comically, showcasing the ring of white around her pupils.
“W-what is that thing?”
“Food. For you.”
“No… I mean what is it?”
“Oh.” I blink, reminding myself she knows nothing of this world.
“We call this creature an antethorpe.” I pull the creature closer for her to inspect, but she reels back, the blood in her face draining, leaving her several shades paler.
“I know it does not look pretty, but it will be good sustenance for you, even if it is just a youngling.”
She shakes her head violently. “I can’t eat that! I’m a vegetarian!”
I frown. I do not know this word—vegetarian.
Maybe she is objecting to the fact it is still alive?
Now that I think of it, I remember several “hunters” in the human realm that would take the life of their food and skin it before they ate the meat, unlike demons, who need to consume the soul of the living.
It is a thoughtless mistake, and one I will correct swiftly. “Killing it will be no problem. I am a strong mate,” I say.
I reach toward it, meaning to demonstrate this task. Before I touch it, my mate lets out a screech loud enough to make my ears hurt, and I freeze in place.
“No! Don’t hurt it!”
She lunges forward, seemingly forgetting her fear of me in her haste to get between me and the small antethorpe. I crawl backward, watching with surprise as she pulls the crying animal into her lap, stroking its head and wrapping it in one of my furs.
What a strange little thing…
The antethorpe ceases its cries and snuggles into her chest, letting its eyes close as it drifts off to sleep. Willow raises her head, her eyes narrowed in a glare. “I can’t believe you wanted me to eat it. Look how cute it is!”
I blink, not understanding what I’m looking at. Antethorpes are dangerous. It could hurt her. But…
If the mangy antethorpe youngling makes my Willow happy, and she wants to keep it alive, I will not stop her.
“I only wished to feed you… I did not know it would upset you so.”
“I’m a vegetarian. Of course it would upset me to see you kill an innocent animal in front of me.”
There is that blasted word again. “Vege-torian?”
Willow sighs. “It means I don’t eat animal meat. I haven’t in almost a decade.”