Chapter 2
Two
Zax was not the best at first impressions.
Several of his brothers told him so. The many, many mortals who ran screaming from him did not tell him so, though their actions were confirmation enough.
But Zax could not help it—he was simply excited. And when he was excited, his tail thrashed and his remaining eye pulsed and his voice got loud and growly.
“It is good to finally meet you,” Zax continued, crouching in front of the mortal as she lay in the dirt. “I like your hair. I do not see many mortal women with short hair. At first, I thought you were a husband! Which would have been fine. I would love you either way.”
The mortal made a noise as if something was caught in her throat.
Zax suddenly remembered what his eldest brother, Slate, had told him about first meetings: to calm down.
Which Zax thought was uncalled for. He might be speaking too much, but he was not chasing her down and devouring her.
Which was his other option when it came to first impressions.
“Oh,” Zax said. “Sorry. I am Zax.”
He held out his hand. The mortal stared at it, and Zax wondered if he had done the wrong thing. His brothers recommended that he spy on mortals to know their customs, but it was difficult to understand when there was no one to explain those customs to you afterward.
The mortal continued to stare. She was beautiful: warm brown skin that glowed in the moonlight, and freckles that made him want to lick her cheeks. He might have, if she did not smell so afraid.
Finally, the mortal spoke.
“I am Fawn,” she said in a strange, quiet voice. She pushed herself up, then hissed. The scent of fresh pain filled Zax’s nostrils, and he breathed it in with shock.
“You are hurt!”
“It’s my ankle,” said the mortal after a moment. “I don’t think I can walk on it.”
Zax dropped his hand and sat back, his tail waving in excitement. “I can help! Here, let me.”
He scooped her up in his arms. The mortal went stiff, and her pained scent flooded with strong undertones of primal fear and… anger?
“You are cross with me,” said Zax with a frown. “It is not my fault the gods dropped you when they gave you to me.”
The mortal gave him another confused look. Her tearful gaze made something spark in the back of Zax’s head.
“You look familiar,” he realized. “Have we met?”
He hoped not. He had very few good meetings with mortals.
The mortal fixed her angry gaze on him. “You ate my husband.”
That did not narrow it down much. Zax thought back to the mortal men he had eaten recently. He did not hunger often, but he did enjoy hunting for fun. There was the man bathing in the river, and of course, the man who was in the middle of peeing, and…
Suddenly, he remembered. It was the Circle man, the one who poked him with sticks when he was chained up with malblossom. Zax had been all too happy to eat him. Fawn must have been the one who tried to stab him afterward. He remembered looking back at his brother and asking, Can I keep her?
“It is strange the Titan would send you,” Zax said.
“Titan?”
“Our gods,” Zax explained.
Fawn stared up at him, her chest heaving as she clutched her injured leg protectively. “Skullstalkers don’t have gods.”
“That’s what my brothers say,” Zax sighed. “Even the one who lives in a Titan-mountain, residing in its bones!”
He pointed up at the Anderfel mountains in the distance, barely visible through the trees. He had made the trek several times, asking for assistance in finding a companion. And every time he was turned away. Still, Zax got the feeling that the ancient Skullstalker would have helped if he could.
“I wanted to believe,” Zax continued. “But I was beginning to lose hope. Then you showed up! I am glad you were dropped, and that you did not run.”
“Because you would have chased,” Fawn said quietly.
Zax thought back once more to her screams as he ripped into her husband’s throat. She must have loved him very much. He had a lot to make up for.
“I will not hurt you,” he stressed. “Even if you run. I am sorry I took away something so cherished, but I vow to make it up to you. I will be the best husband you could wish for.”
Fawn blinked up at him, dazed. Her scent blurred with a thousand conflicting emotions, but Zax did not care.
The gods had gifted him a wife. She was confused and in pain, but he would take care of that.
He would take care of her. Soon, she would not miss the husband he had killed.
Anyhow, she deserved better than a mortal who would poke a trapped Skullstalker with sticks.
She shifted in his arms and hissed again, her scent getting drowned out by the overwhelming wave of fresh pain.
“I will fix you,” Zax declared triumphantly. He set off through the trees, careful not to jostle her leg. “What does it take to fix a human? When I am injured, I need food and sleep and somewhere clean to rest.”
He rolled his aching shoulders. The scars there were deep, the malblossom scoring him down to the muscle. The rest were tolerable enough after weeks of healing. He was mostly bothered by his scarred eye, which made him rely on scent more than ever before.
His brothers said he looked battle-worn. Which was embarrassing, since every scar was from getting ambushed and captured by a group of mortals. Mortals who had magic, but still.
He was glad he had gotten everything ready for his spouse before the attack. It would have been much harder, otherwise.
“Me too,” Fawn said quietly.
They walked in silence for several moments. Fawn twisted, looking around the dark forest. Then she said, “He wasn’t cherished.”
Zax chirped questioningly. Fawn startled, as if surprised to hear that noise come out of him.
“My husband,” she continued after a second. “He wasn’t a good man. He was… cruel. And stifling. And he did not understand me. I am glad you killed him.”
Her emotions swirled around them, thick and sour. But Zax could hardly bring himself to care. He had not taken away something precious! There was nothing to be forgiven for!
“It gladdens me to hear that,” Zax said. Then he paused. “But then why did you try to stab me?”
Fawn shrugged. “It’s just what you do when someone takes something that is yours.”
Zax nodded sagely. “I agree. I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”
Fawn said nothing for several strides. Then she squirmed, looking around the dark forest. “Where are we going?”
“I have prepared a place for you,” Zax said happily.
“For me?” Fawn repeated.
Zax nodded, rubbing his claws over her knees. He would have to trim them—mortal skin was so delicate.
“For my wife,” he said. “Or my husband. I am not picky.”
“So, you prayed to your…” Fawn paused. “Skullstalker god… for a spouse?”
“Yes! And you came.” Zax fought the urge to hold her even closer. He could not squeeze her as much as he wanted when her ankle was injured. But when she healed, they would have all the time in the world. Especially after the ritual.
He came to a stop, staring up into the dark trees. “Here we are! You will need to hold on so I can climb.”
“Climb?”
“Do not look worried,” Zax assured her. “The place I have made is good for mortals, I promise.”
She gave him a wary look, her scent still an anxious blur. But she wound her arms around his neck, wincing as the movement shifted her injured leg.
Zax was oddly stunned by the touch. He had never been held like this before, he realized. All his touches were fleeting things from his brothers. Or, of course, mortals desperately trying to stop him from eating them.
He did try to kill them fast. Most of the time. Hunting was just so fun, and the days were so long.
He carried her up to the treehouse with one clawed hand digging into the bark, the other holding her close. As he crawled through a window, he considered other options.
“I will build a better way to get you up,” he decided as he landed on the wooden planks he had spent so long hammering together. “A ladder or—or something. Or if you wish, I will carry you up whenever you ask.”
Fawn did not respond. She was staring, open-mouthed, at the treehouse surrounding her: the wide walls, the high ceiling, the branches growing into it from the ceiling. Not to mention all the mortal things he had carried up here.
Zax grinned proudly. “Do you like it?”
Fawn blinked, startled. “I… I do. Will you let me down?”
Zax let her down on the floor. Only as she settled against the wood did he realize he really should have set her on the nest, which was tucked into a corner. But before he could rectify this, Fawn spoke again.
“Now we are home,” she said slowly, her scent still sour and sharp, “What will you do with me?”