Chapter 40 Neirin
NEIRIN
The fire popped in the hearth, orange flames licking eagerly at the charred logs. Though it was not particularly cold, building up the fire gave me a task to busy myself while Evera settled Calix to sleep.
It wasn’t like Calix to be dependent on comfort.
Clearly, seeing Eaumond under the control of a pair of huntsmen had troubled him.
After such a length of time, it was reasonable to assume that the boy, too, was suffering.
Again, I found myself impressed with the control Astraea’s messengers had.
For them, though, the alternative to control was death.
With the fire built, I left the hearth and crossed the room to the doorway.
It stood cracked, and, cautious to be quiet, I pushed it further open.
Evera lay on the chaise, eyes shut, with Calix tucked into the curve of her body.
One of her thumbs stroked his shoulder, the only sign she remained awake.
For a moment, I only watched, unable to break the gentleness of the moment.
Never had I considered children to be something I desired, not even as a fleeting thought.
Though I loved Harlan, I’d never looked upon him and yearned for a family of my own.
He was my brother, my kin. I was fiercely protective of him, but it was different … in a way I could not quite place.
Evera yawned, and her lashes fluttered. When her eyes opened and her gaze met mine, a deep, rich warmth coursed through our bond, and I smiled softly, entranced by her.
If only things were different, if my seed would not contribute to the forging of another monster.
Evera would make an astounding mother. A selfish thought, admittedly, as I was unsure that life suited her.
Still, it would never come to fruition, so I allowed myself to bask in the glow of the fantasy.
Careful not to wake Calix, Evera rose from the chaise and pulled a thick, woven blanket up over his shoulders. She stroked curls of hair from in front of his brows before turning to me.
“What are you thinking?” she asked when she joined me in the doorway.
I wrapped my arms around her middle. “Truthfully?”
“Always.”
“That this feels like a family.”
Again, the thick warmth flowed between us. I did not have a word for the sensation, not one I could utter with certainty. It was reminiscent, though, of Nyana’s arms around me or the gleam in Harlan’s eyes when he looked to me with the kind of admiration that only he showed for me.
A murkiness seeped through, and Evera turned her head sideways to rest on my chest. “Why do I feel we are about to lose it all?”
I held her tighter, having no words to ease her worries.
Not when they were so valid. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and for the first time, I considered running away.
Considered taking Evera and Calix to the western lands and starting a new life there, where it was unlikely I would be recognized.
Where I could get a laborer’s job, make an honest wage, and provide for them.
A cottage at the edge of a smaller village, overlooking fields.
“I must protect my brother, Evera,” I said, sorrow thickening my words as I knew very well the cost I bargained with.
Though I expected her to counter me, to point out that my capture would lead to Calix’s death or to her despair, she only nuzzled against my chest. When she drew back, she reached between us and cupped my cheek, the smoothness of her palm a contrast to the short stubble growing in at my jawline.
Barefoot, she raised to her toes, arching into me, and brushed my lips with hers. The kiss was slow, gently seeking as her lips parted and she sought to deepen it. She tasted of cinnamon, with a woody and sweet flavor. Like spiced cider.
When she broke the kiss, I lowered my forehead to hers, immensely grateful for the gift of her presence. For this unexpected spark that made my life worth living, beyond simply fulfilling a task. For the way she lent me to dreams of a simple life, with such wistful longing.
“My soul is yours,” I said on a breath. “Until my dying breath, it is yours.”
Lowering her hand to my chest, Evera drew back enough to meet my eyes. There was such sadness there, and it ached at my heart.
“Neir, I want you to shift for me.”
Shift. I couldn’t. Not even for my mate. “Evera—”
Huffing a breath, she wiggled from my arms and took my hand, leading me into my room. She dropped her grasp and closed the door quietly behind us, allowing Calix to sleep in the hall, undisturbed by our conversation.
“Please,” she said, “allow me to speak before dismissing the idea entirely.”
Setting my jaw, I nodded once and leaned back against the door, crossing my arms.
She paced from the bed to the dresser and back again several times, her feet showing beneath her dress as she walked. The dress was a bit shorter than the others I’d seen her in. Everything about her was so small compared to me.
“Neirin.”
I looked to her. “I apologize. I was pondering how fair and delicate you appear. It is an exquisite complement to the fire within your soul.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you attempting to flatter me?”
“No,” I said truthfully, then leaned into playfulness in an attempt to lighten the conversation. “My thoughts began to wander, as it was taking you some time to gather your thoughts.”
“You are insufferable.” She huffed, but the corners of her lips turned up.
Stepping to her, I took her hands in mine. “Admittedly so, at times.” I trailed my thumb over a freckle between her index finger and thumb. “This is important to you? That I shift?”
“It is,” she said. “You believe the fox to be a monster, and I will not force you to speak on why if you are not ready to. But Neir, when you were wounded, I held him in my lap. There is more to him. I know it in my soul, and I know that he will not hurt me.”
“The fox sees you as his,” I agreed. He wouldn’t hurt her.
“The book of lore states that children experience middle shifts until they come to accept their animal. I have faith that there is a possibility this is true for you as well. That in giving yourself to him freely, in fostering a bond with him, you may ease the battle between the two of you. It is possible you may unlock your abilities, too.”
“To perceive magic,” I recalled.
“Yes. And to manipulate it.”
“Why does this matter? Why now?”
Dropping my hands, she held the front of my shirt, the cotton loose and light. “Eaumond is important to Calix. I want to try to help him. If you shift, show your fox some acceptance, perhaps you would be able to control his–”
“Rescuing that boy is not our priority,” I reminded her. It couldn’t be.
“If there is a chance you may be able to control his magic, temper it …” She pushed. “Will you attempt this? For me? Will you give yourself to your fox and see if you gain some connection? Some flicker of access to your abilities?”
Sighing, I gently raised her chin. Was her theory true?
If I gave myself freely to the fox, would he become more manageable?
Would my abilities come forward? And would that give me an advantage in aiding Harlan?
No. I could never shift outside of this room.
With Evera, I knew the monster was no threat.
But outside of these walls, with others, if he felt threatened … “This is truly what you ask of me?”
“Yes.”
A weight fell over me, and when Evera cast her gaze to the floorboards, I suspected she sensed my hesitation, my fear, through our bond. Still, she held firm, unwavering.
I heaved a sigh and left her to stand before the dresser. With my back to her, I stepped out of my pants, folded them, and placed them neatly in one of the drawers before pulling my shirt over my head and placing it there as well.
When I peered over my shoulder, Evera turned her eyes quickly away. For all she frustrated me at times, I could not bring myself to feel any bitterness toward her, not when her bashfulness reddened her cheeks and caused her to flutter her lashes and suck in her lips.
“Your shyness amuses me,” I admitted, returning to her.
“I am not shy,” she countered, finally breaking her gaze from the hearth to meet my eyes.
“No? Are you certain?” I took one of her hands and placed it on my chest so that she might feel the beating of my heart, quickened by her presence and by the trickle of desire that came to me from the invisible threads of our bond.
“I—” Her eyes lowered, as did her hand. She trailed her touch over the ridges of my muscles.
I began to stir for her. The sensation was still so new, so conflicting. While my aching for her was truly unlike anything else, it also troubled me. It signaled a lack of control.
Closing my eyes, I released a steadying breath and focused my thoughts. “This may do nothing,” I warned. “It may be that I simply do not have abilities.”
Raising her gaze again, she lifted her chin in a show of stubbornness. “I understand.”
A faint nervousness tugged at me, and I dipped my forehead to hers for support. “Close your eyes. I don’t want you to see this.”
Evera’s body trembled in my embrace, and a swirl of muddled emotions rushed through the bond. I kissed each of her eyelids in turn.
Taking a step back, I let out a breath and released my control to the monster, the beast that stirred within. He took it without hesitation. Eager, greedy, desperate. Fear, raw and unhinged, surged. Squinting my eyes shut, I gasped as the heat began to build.
Lips brushed mine, and my eyes shot open. Evera, having stepped to me, cupped my face in her hands, and I lowered my forehead again to hers, my breathing ragged.
“Do not resist this. Give him your control. You must do so willingly. Please, Neir, try for me.”
Neir—what Harlan called me. What Thatch once had as well. Trembling, I fought back as waves of surging heat rolled through me.
“Close your eyes,” I rasped through gritted teeth.
“No.”
I sucked in a breath. Evera couldn’t watch the transition. For her to look upon me and call me a monster … I trembled.
Kissing me again, firmly this time, Evera drew me from the nightmare of my memories. She spoke against my lips, her words a command. “Give in willingly. Trust me.”
Trust her. Scrunching my nose, I shuddered, then I let go.
I released all control and hooded my eyes as the searing heat built.
And then … it disappeared. The burning ebbed to a liquid warmth.
Fluid, as it was the night death had loomed over me.
Calmed by Evera’s scent, already more potent as my senses heightened, I relaxed.
Instead of breaking, my bones warped. Though there was still a tightness to the pull of my skin, it didn’t rip or tear. There was no scent of blood in the air aside from the lingering traces from the night Cyan and I fought.
As the shift took me, my legs gave out, and Evera’s arms supported me as I fell to the floor. Blinking blearily as if in a haze, I held her gaze as I shed the last of my control. I closed my eyes and a chilled breath left my lungs, soothing, calming. New.
When my fox opened his eyes, Evera knelt before him. Awe laced her features. Not fear, not disgust.
My fox keened, and she stroked the side of his face. He rubbed against her touch.
“He’s incredible,” she breathed.
Incredible.
Putting his paws on one of her knees, he sought her scent at her neck. With Evera kneeling like this, the animal stood roughly the same height as her. He was big for a fox, nearer to the size of a wolf.
Evera giggled as his nose brushed beneath her ear, leaving a trail of wetness. How easily his jaws could clamp around her neck. Yet, she trusted him completely. The animal whined and drew back to meet her eyes. In this form, their vibrant sage was a pale, muted gray.
“It’s alright,” she said, though I was unsure if she was talking to me or the fox. Was she sensing my emotions? Or his? Or simply responding to his whimper?
It was foolish to think an animal could understand anything. Still, he seemed to respond to her tone, at least.
A sound from downstairs drew his attention. Fully alert, he curled his lips into a snarl. The stairs creaked, and a pale-yellow warmth from a lantern shone beneath the crack in the door. Moving toward the threat, he pinned his ears, eyes hard on the dancing light.
Maerel’s door opened, then closed as she retired to her room.
“We’re safe here,” Evera said, and he looked over his shoulder to where she sat, silhouetted against the pale flames in the hearth.
Returning to her, he prodded her with his nose, circling, scenting her as if to detect nothing was out of place. She giggled at his touch, her smile light, full of whimsy.
Seemingly content, my fox lay down and rested his snout on her thigh. The warmth of the fire heated his pelt, and he yawned.
For some time, Evera stroked his fur. My fox’s heavy eyelids fluttered, and I, too, became weary, soothed by the touch and comforting presence of our mate. Thoughts of returning to my form seemed distant, unimportant. For the first time in my life, I was entirely content like this.
“Will you give him back to me?” Evera asked, cupping the side of my fox’s face in her palm.
The animal raised his head, studying her. Outside, the wind picked up, and a branch scraped along one of the old glass windows with a cringing screech.
The sound was much too loud in this form. My fox swiveled an ear, intent on it, and his flank quivered. The creations of man disconcerted him. He preferred the woods, the scent of earth and rain on the air, and the scurry of hares in the undergrowth.
In this place, the ground was flat and uniform. Everything had sharp edges and harsh shadows. There was the fire, though, and he seemed to like that. And there was Evera, and she was everything to him. Just as she was everything to me.
With her gentle touch, Evera turned his gaze back to her. She touched her nose to his, and he sniffed the scent of her encompassing.
“Please, give him back to me,” she repeated. The words were a request, not a command, spoken with such caring that it confused me.
All my life, I’d seen my fox as only a monster, a vile, selfish creature that caused horror and suffering. But Evera … she treated him with affection, with a caring he had never experienced from anyone else.
In a wave, he released his hold on me. Not in a lapse of awareness, but in the act of giving freely, as I’d done for him. And when the warmth heated my veins, foretelling the shift, I braced for the pain that didn’t come. It was fluid and swift.
Back in my own body, I held Evera’s gaze. Knelt before her, bare to her, vulnerable. She’d seen the worst of me, yet she hadn’t faltered.
“I love you too,” she whispered and brushed her lips to mine.