Gray
I am blessed many times over to have such a magnificent mate. Perhaps I do not deserve this happiness, but I will take it nonetheless.
Maris is amazing, and she does not hate me. Dare I think it, but I think she might even like me or… love me, although I am too terrified of rejection to fully ask her.
But while the time we spend together is the greatest gift I have ever been given, that does not negate the fear in me that she will change her mind and leave me.
Fear that I will hurt her by some accident, since there is no way I would ever hurt her intentionally, curse or no curse.
Yet no matter how much I try to comfort myself, to tell myself that nothing bad will happen, I cannot quite make myself believe it.
Maris might not know my fears, but she seems to sense them somehow. She stays close to me, and finally she huffs a sigh. Her skirts swirl around her legs as she strides toward me. She reaches down to grasp a handful of my fur, tugging sharply.
I rise to my feet willingly; I will happily take any touch she deigns to give me, no matter how rough. I lean toward her, growling a soft, happy grumble.
“Yes?”
“I need to get out of this cave, get some fresh air. Can we go for a walk or something?”
“Yes!” I repeat enthusiastically. My time with Maris has been teaching me more about human speech, such as the myriad of uses for a single word, such as yes or no, based on the way you say the word.
Different inflections mean different things, and I’m enjoying learning it so that I may communicate more effectively with my mate.
Satisfied, Maris nods, and I follow her out the entrance of the cave after I’ve moved the door keeping us safely inside. I have lived in this area for years, explored every inch of it, but I will follow Maris anywhere she wants to go.
We haven’t had much time to explore since we came to the cave, so now is the perfect time to do just that.
For the first few days Maris was happy just to look around the caves, and I was even happier to show her every inch of them, every single thing I had gathered for her.
Everything we could possibly need. Food, clothes, blankets, firewood to keep her warm.
Big things, necessities, but little things too.
Things I thought she would like when I saw them.
Clothes from when she left them outside to dry; I stole each piece one at a time, spread over years, so that she has clothes of her own to wear.
Clothes that she is comfortable with, that she likes.
I should have noticed her hairbrush, things like that, but I rarely saw her inside her home; I watched, yes, but I didn’t want to invade her privacy any more than I already had.
I look forward to seeing that side of her now that we are living together.
But for now, I will enjoy seeing her expression as we enter the forest. The last leaves are beginning to fall from the trees in preparation for winter, and Maris is fascinated.
Her head is tilted back, eyes alight with wonder; her skirts whisper softly.
I study the long column of her slim throat, mesmerized.
I love every curve of her body all the way from that delicate neck down to her tiny toes. To me, she is perfect. I sigh softly.
Maris turns toward me immediately. It’s amazing for a human how good her hearing is, and if I didn’t know any better I would say it’s almost as good as mine. Perhaps the curse is affecting her in some small way.
I hesitate, caught in the grip of that thought like a fly in a spider’s web, struggling to comprehend the ramifications of what I might have done.
It’s not what I want, nor a thought I’m focused on, but now that it’s in my mind I can’t free myself from it.
I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with my mate, but what if I’m hurting her somehow?
I don’t want to drag her into this cursed half life with me, but I also don’t know if I can live without her.
But is it selfish of me to keep her by my side?
I swallow hard.
Would it be better to let her go?
Maris jabs me with one finger. I jump, startled out of my daymare.
She’s looked away from the trees, her eyes locked on me.
For once in my life I’m glad not to be human; if I was, my face would have that dainty red flush that is so beautiful on my mate’s face.
But despite my wolfish face, I was so lost in my thoughts that even she is able to see it, and guilt curls in my chest, squeezing my heart.
I did not mean to hurt her joy, or take away from her study of the trees.
“Stop that,” Maris says firmly, swatting gently at my forearm
My ears twitch toward her, head tilting curiously. I want to ask what I am meant to be stopping, but she keeps talking, answering the question I haven’t even asked yet. “Stop feeling guilty, and straying into your thoughts. Stay here with me.”
She leans closer, her arms braced against my chest, and my tail begins a lazy sway back and forth against my will.
Her fingers are buried in my fur, and I am more than happy to do as she tells me, to stay in the moment with her and enjoy the slow stroke of her fingers in my fur.
I growl softly, as close to a purr as I can manage, to let her know how good it feels.
Maris slides her hand gently down my arm, then tugs on my paw.
It takes a moment to link our fingers together, what with my claws and the significant size difference between our hands, but we manage.
Her skin is warm and she tugs me downward, following the slope of the hill.
We’re nowhere near her old village, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.
I still can’t help the shiver of fear that freezes in my chest. Too close, even miles away.
As if my fears have conjured them, voices ring out from between the trees and I gasp, ears pinning flat.
My hand tightens on Maris so firmly that I fear I will hurt her, but I can’t make myself let go.
My instincts war; do I grab Maris and run, putting as much distance between us and the other humans as I can, or do I hide?
Only one thing is for sure: I can’t fight. Not with Maris here, else I risk putting her life in danger, not to mention my own if I can’t focus on the fight in front of me, as is sure to happen. The voices grow louder, and I can make out words now.
Harsh laughter.
The clink of metal against metal.
Weapons. Probably crossbows or knives or worse. My heart pounds so hard I'm certain Maris can hear it, but when I look down at her, she's already moving.
"Hide," she whispers, her voice barely audible even to my enhanced hearing. She gives me a shove in the other direction, but makes no move to come with me. "Now!"
Every instinct I have screams against it.
I should be protecting her, not cowering behind trees like some frightened rabbit.
But the memory of her tied to that tree, helpless while those men planned to use her as bait, makes my stomach twist with sick fear.
What if my presence makes things worse? What if they see me and hurt her just to get to me?
"Gray." Her voice is sharper now, urgent. "Please."
I want to argue, want to tell her that I can handle a few humans, that I'm stronger and faster than they ever could be.
But the pleading and desperation in her eyes stops me from voicing any of those concerns.
She's not asking me to hide because she thinks I'm weak.
She's asking because she knows what these men are capable of, and she's terrified of what might happen if they find us together.
Reluctantly, I release her hand and melt back into the shadows between two massive oak trees, the dappling sun not reaching me. The undergrowth is thick here, and I'm good at staying hidden when I need to be. Years of avoiding human contact has made me an expert at disappearing into the forest.
But watching Maris stand alone in the clearing, her shoulders squared with false bravado, is agony.
Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready to spring forward the moment she needs me.
My claws dig into the earth beneath my feet, and I have to bite back a growl when I see her hands trembling at her sides.
She's trying to look calm, confident, like she belongs here and has every right to walk through these woods. But I can smell her fear, sharp and metallic in the crisp autumn air. It makes my fur stand on end, makes the protective instincts I've been fighting surge to the surface with renewed force.
The voices are getting closer. Too close. I can make out individual words now—crude jokes, complaints about the cold, speculation about tracks they might have seen. My mate stands perfectly still in the dappled sunlight, and I've never been more torn between two impossible choices.
Stay hidden and let her face whatever comes alone, or reveal myself and make her a target.
Either way, I might lose her.