4. Rhune #3
This is clearly important to her. And here I am, bringing a live creature into our home and threatening to kill it in order to impress her.
“I did not know.” I dip my head, wishing I was not so unknowledgeable and foolish. “I am sorry, little human. Very sorry. I will do better. This I vow to you.”
When she doesn’t respond, a whimper echoes deep in my chest, my wings drooping at my back so the tips drag sadly along the ground.
Willow lets out a small sigh. “You know what? It’s fine. Just… promise you won’t hurt it?”
“You have my word.”
She nods, satisfied, then turns her attention to the creature’s leg. She sucks in a breath when she realizes the extent of the injury.
“Oh no. You poor thing. What happened?” She looks up, her eyes holding an accusatory glint. “Did you do this to it?”
I shake my head. “No! I found it injured. It was left by its herd, and likely cannot walk.”
Her face pinches. Her breath halts. She seems distressed by this news, and I do not know why—it is a simple fact of life.
Beings are created, they grow, they feed, and then they return to the source to create more life.
It happens every cycle. It is necessary to keep the balance of the world in order.
I’m about to inform her of this when she looks up at me with those wide, hopeful, beautiful green eyes—and I know whatever she is about to ask me, I will not be able to tell her no.
“Can you do something?” she asks. “To help it?”
“Help it?”
I am… surprised this is what she asks of me. Antethorpes grow to be vicious, angry creatures, and I do not know why she wishes me to spare one. Perhaps because she has never heard the ear-shattering howl of one that is fully grown…
“You want me to heal its leg?” I ask, making sure I understand her.
“If you can, absolutely.”
I gaze down at the frail creature, knowing that I could not deny her even if I wanted to. “It will be done.”
Her mouth tips up in the barest of smiles, and my pulse skyrockets. I would do anything to see this. Anything.
Swallowing hard, I work to focus on the task at hand.
I reach out toward the walls, the pulsing blue roots running through the rock.
Closing my eyes, I begin pulling from the magic that hums deep within my soul, directing it through my body to the tips of my fingers.
Once I feel a connection to the source, I lower my hands to the antethorpe, imagining the bone mending, the skin pulling back together, the small vessels unwinding and the nerves firing to life.
When I open my eyes, the leg is completely healed, and my female is wearing a smile that makes the sky open.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “That was… that was incredible. How did you do that?”
I desperately try to find the words to explain it. “I’m not exactly sure. I just pull from the energy that lives inside me and direct it in a certain way. My brothers are far stronger than I am, but I excel in healing. Always have.”
She nods, still staring hard at the place the wound used to be. “That’s a pretty cool superpower to have.”
Another word I don’t understand—but the way she says it, it must be a good thing.
“I am happy to know you think so. I promise to always heal your bumps and scrapes, no matter the toll it takes on me. This I vow.”
She lets out a breath, dragging her eyes up to mine. “That’s very sweet of you, Mr.…” Her head tips. “I’m just now realizing I don’t know your name.”
My chest rumbles with a purr. She wants to know my name? This really is the best day ever!
“They call me Rhune,” I say, trying not to seem too eager. “Just Rhune.”
“Rhune.” Her cheeks turn pink. “It’s very sweet of you to say that, but I don’t think that’s necessary.”
I frown, confused. “The Far Place is very dangerous. Your body is fragile, and it is highly likely you will suffer an injury at some point if I do not watch over you.”
“Fragile?” She scoffs. “I’m no such thing.”
“Your soul is made of blue flame, my mate—more fearsome than any I have encountered before. Please, do not misunderstand what I say. I only mean that the shell holding your soul is… well, it requires protection. I would be honored if you would allow me to be the one to care for you in that way.”
She just shakes her head. “But… I want to go home. I won’t be in danger if you take me back, right?”
A low growl builds in my chest. She wants to go back? No. She belongs to me. Now and forever more. “I will not be taking you back. This is your new home. Here. With me.”
I reach out to touch her, but she jerks away, and my chest clenches painfully at the rejection.
“Please,” she whispers, her scent tinged with bitter desperation. “Please, just take me back. I want to go home, Rhune.”
I shake my head, slowly standing to my full height. “I already told you. You are home.”
I turn, stalking toward the exit before I break and do as she asks like the lovesick creature I am. I stop at the threshold, my fist clenching the hide covering as I say, “I will be back with better food for you and the little one.”
My soul screams louder with every inch of distance I put between us.