Chapter 11 Between the Stream and the Spear
BETWEEN THE STREAM AND THE SPEAR
“There are men who will touch your hand and claim your life. You were never meant to belong to an earthly soul.”
—Eyleen ársa, to her daughter
Noel
Maybe it’s not a bad idea to have a vólkin guard me while I bathe. It doesn’t mean I won’t stab him again if he dares to look, but for now, it’s a good solution.
I place my spear and the handkerchief on the ground, my fingers brushing over the worn fabric as if it holds the last pieces of my sanity along with the crystal wrapped up in it.
The stream’s gentle waves lap against the shore, a soothing sound that should calm my racing thoughts, but it doesn’t.
So many emotions come and go, one after the other, as I crouch to unlace my boots.
Theron, a creature so big and fierce, calmly held me while I cried uncontrollably in his arms. He tended to my wounds with a care I hadn’t expected from anyone, let alone him.
I can still feel his touch. His tongue tracing over the cuts on my hands, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
His gaze was so intense I could barely breathe.
I kick my boots off and mutter to myself, “This is madness.”
A part of me wanted to pull away, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed there, letting him heal me. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a man tend to me like that before. Maybe that’s why my chest felt tight, why I couldn’t look away from him.
He didn’t retreat when I stabbed him. He didn’t run away when I fell apart. He stayed. He stayed and held me as if I were something precious. That confuses me so much.
I’ve spent my whole life believing that vólkins are monsters, creatures to be feared, and yet, here is this beast, cradling me like I’m fragile. His demeanor doesn’t match what I’ve been taught to fear, and it’s throwing me off balance.
I shake my head. Foolish woman, what are you thinking?
He grew blue roses for me. With nothing but his will, he made them bloom right before my eyes. They glowed like the roses in my mother’s garden. He made fire from nothing, just by concentrating his energy. It doesn’t make sense. How can any of this be real?
I glance over at him, watching as he stands confidently with his back to me. Why wouldn’t he go? I said I’m not his mate. I don’t understand.
His presence is too much—too large, too powerful—and yet, he’s shown me nothing but kindness.
I bite my lip. Mother, maybe you were right. Maybe the world outside Tárnov is not what I thought. Maybe I’m not who I thought I was.
I sigh deeply, my heart heavy with everything I’ve lost and everything I don’t understand. It’s confusing. Everything is confusing.
As I’m about to slip out of my dirty gown, tinkling, ethereal laughter echoes through the trees. Tiny dots of light fly around me, and I pause, my initial intention to bathe forgotten momentarily as I observe these glowing, leaflike figures.
Leaves with faces? How is that possible?
“What are you?” I whisper, reaching out to touch one.
The tiny leaf creature hugs my finger and nuzzles against it.
“They’re leaf spirits,” Theron says, walking closer. “Guardians of the forest’s growth, very playful and quite curious about visitors, especially those they have been waiting for for ages.”
The spirits’ touch tickles, their feet brushing against my skin like tiny balls of cotton.
It feels surreal, as though I’ve stepped into a dream come to life.
One of them lands on my shoulder and looks up at me with big button eyes.
They’re black, contrasting against their light green bodies.
Some of them even have little rounded bellies. What do they eat?
“Can they hear us?” I ask.
“They feel more than they hear,” he responds. “They’re mischievous but gentle. I think they came to welcome you.”
I step toward the stream, and the spirits grow more excited, their movements quickening as they rush around me in different directions. I turn to Theron, who watches with an amused grin.
“How am I supposed to bathe with all this attention?” I ask with a big smile on my face. They’re just so adorable!
His grin widens, and he leans in, his voice low like he’s sharing a secret. “Just tell them you need a moment of privacy. They will listen to you.”
“They will?”
Theron nods.
Skeptical yet very intrigued, I turn to the leaf spirits. “I appreciate your welcome, but I need some privacy to bathe. Please, could you give me a little space?”
To my surprise, the spirits pause, their tiny faces tilting as if they’re considering my request. Then, they back away, flying over to the nearest rock. From there, they continue to watch, but from a more polite distance.
I glance back at the smiling Theron, raising an eyebrow. “You too.”
He dips his chin and steps back to his previous position. “Call if you need anything.”
Did his tail just wag?
I take off my dirty gown and put it near my boots.
The leaf spirits fly over to inspect it, and I smile.
They’re so cute. I’m left in only the bandage over my breasts and my linen undergarments.
My heart pounds as I slowly remove the bandage, my gaze never leaving Theron’s back—just in case. He really won’t look, right?
I place my soldier identification card, which I always keep with me, even when I’m not in uniform, on the handkerchief. And every few seconds, I glance at my spear, and the tip covered in his blood. It’s dark red, like mine. He sure felt at least a sting. A grin stretches my face.
A cool breeze travels along my skin, and I’m grateful that all of this is happening after winter so at least the water isn’t freezing.
Theron wanted to heat it, whatever that means, but I said I was fine.
Mother made me practice enduring cold water since I was a child, so it doesn’t bother me at all.
The water brushing against my skin and washing away the dirt and grime is refreshing, so I take my time. Letting the water cleanse not only my body but also my spirit.
Mother . . . You always believed water cleanses the soul. But what happened to you?
The uncertainty is torturing me. I need answers.
So far, this vólkin has not shown me anything to suggest he wants to go our separate ways.
From what he’s said, he believes I’m his mate and we’re fated to be together forever.
Obviously I can’t stay with him. I have my whole life in Tárnov.
My mother’s home, our secret garden, my military career . . . I wonder how my soldiers are doing.
I dip my face into the water and then rise, my heavy, wet hair clinging to my back. I gather some fallen leaves from the bank near me and look for the ones that have the strongest veins, or leaf skeleton, Mother never told me what it’s called. Picking a few, I begin scrubbing my arm.
I remember the one moment that defined my time as my soldiers’ commander.
It was early, the sun’s first rays peeking over the high stone walls of our base and the morning mist lingering on the training grounds.
As usual, I greeted my soldiers with a firm, “Good morning,” but Joren, a recruit with a mouth bigger than his balls or his brain, couldn’t resist the chance to take his shot.
“Sergeant ársa, I’m having some trouble with my morning wood.
Would you have a look? That would definitely make it a good morning.
” His grin was wide enough to split his face, like he’d forgotten who he was talking to.
The group burst into loud laughter, exchanging glances that only fueled each other’s egos.
Joren’s idiotic grin didn’t waver as I marched right up to him, but when I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him so close our noses almost touched, the shock in his eyes was beautiful.
I hissed, “I’ll cut it off if that’s what it takes to shut you up.”
The laughter died instantly, replaced by a tense silence. I didn’t let go of him right away. Instead, I held him there, eyes on his, making sure the lesson sank in. My grip tightened, and I could feel his heart beating fast.
When I finally let go, he stumbled back, eyes wide. From that moment on, none of them dared to talk back to me again. I had made my point. I was their commander, and they would follow my lead, no matter how hard it was for them to follow a woman.
In the end, it wasn’t only about earning their respect, it was about showing them that I belonged just as much as any of them.
I made sure they understood that, while I might be different, I was someone they could rely on.
And eventually, they did. We became a unit, a team, and the memory of that morning became a story they shared with new recruits, a reminder of the line they’d never dare to cross again.
With a smile, I wash myself as the leaf spirits jump on a rock near me.
I pause with my hands resting on my inner thighs, feeling the cold water travel over my shoulders.
My skin is flushed, and a strange heat creeps up my neck.
I’ve never really taken the time to look at myself like this, never had a reason to.
My life in Tárnov was one of duty and discipline.
I never let men court me, never felt the need to entertain their advances.
Mother always said there were more important things than men.
She wasn’t harsh about it, no, she was always matter-of-fact, as if her words were a simple truth I’d eventually come to accept. And I did, until now.
“You don’t need the distractions of men, Noel,” she would say whenever the topic of courtship came up. “Your life is meant for more than that.”
At the time, it made sense. My life was different from the other girls in the village.
While they spent their days fussing over gowns and braiding their hair to attract a wealthier man, I was training, learning to lead, pushing myself to be stronger.
To some degree, it felt right to stay focused rather than waste time on love like everyone else.
“Romance will only weaken you,” she’d say. “You have no need for it.”
I believed her. But now, looking back, I wonder if there was more to it.
Why was she always so intent on keeping me isolated?
Why did she tear up every letter or gift I received from men in the village?
Why did she burn them without ever showing me, as if she wanted to erase any sign of them from my life?
I walked into the kitchen once to find her crouched by the fireplace, tossing another letter into the flames. When I asked her about it, she brushed it off with a smile. “It was nothing, Noel,” she said. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
But why did she do that? Why was she so intent on keeping me from any sort of connection? I never understood, and I still don’t.
And now, here I am, standing in the forest, washing away the dirt of a life I don’t recognize anymore. I need to stop thinking about it, at least for now.
I scrub my abs and grab a few more leaves because the ones I had have gone soggy. As I take a step out of the water, I feel a wetness between my thighs that I can’t blame on the stream. What is wrong with you, Noel? Just stop!
Grunting, I scoop some water into my palm and wash between my folds. I’m so sensitive, and I don’t understand what’s happening to me.
That stupid vólkin! There’s no such thing as a mate bond, and I don’t care that he grew blue roses out of nowhere. It means nothing! Tomorrow, he’ll grow peonies and confess to another woman.
I turn around to look at him. Still standing tall, with all those muscles.
It scares me. I’ve never let anyone get this close before, never let anyone tend to me, never let anyone make me feel . . . like this.
I bite my lip. It’s only because I’ve never experienced this before. That’s why I’m so affected. That’s all it is.
Isn’t it?
But his cock . . . He’s saying I’m his mate. Does he plan to . . .
Oh goddesses above, what am I thinking?
My cheeks flamed when I saw Theron’s massive shaft.
It’s so . . . big. The thought of it makes my cheeks burn again.
There’s a strange tightening sensation in my chest as I run my hands over my skin, tracing the muscles of my body, and for the first time, I feel aware—aware of the way my body reacts, the way my heart races.
I huff out an exhale.
It’s just curiosity, stupid girl. Just because I’ve never had anyone look at me the way he does, never felt a man’s presence so acutely, it doesn’t mean anything.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I shake my head. This isn’t me. I’ve never wanted this before. I’ve never even thought about it.
But now, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I need to go back to Tárnov.