Chapter 53 Evera
EVERA
Awe filled me as it always did when I witnessed Neirin shifting. To be told stories of magic as a child, then to come face-to-face with the reality of it as an adult—it seemed otherworldly. Neirin was real, though. He was my mate, my companion, the one who called to my heart.
When his fox reached the bank and scrambled up to stand before me in the short grass, I reached out a hand.
The animal addressed me but did not come forward.
Instead, he shook his mottled gray pelt, sending droplets of chilled water into the air.
I withdrew my palm and wiped off the few that landed on my arm.
“I knew you could do it,” I whispered, admiration warming my heart.
The fox looked to me, his eyes silver orbs. Could the fox understand me? I liked to think he could. He was smarter, surely, than Neirin gave him credit for. There was wisdom there, something that held more depth than instinct for survival alone.
I held my breath as he shifted back, wet clumped fur giving way to smooth skin, still slick with streams of water.
“You must be freezing,” I said as Neirin held my eyes, his hair silver again. Whether it had been washed by the river in some way, or restored by the magic of the shift, I couldn’t say.
“The only cold I felt was when I woke to find you not in my arms.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I know.” He cut me off, cupping my cheek in his palm. The chill of his skin sent a shudder down my spine. “All that matters now is that you are okay. I apologize for being sharp-tongued with you; it is only that fear overtook me when I woke.”
Shaking my head to dismiss his apology, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, the touch light and gentle.
His hand at my cheek moved back, twining through the hair at the back of my neck as he firmed our connection.
He did not seek to deepen the kiss, only strengthen it, as if he were afraid that I might slip away from him again.
When he finally broke the kiss and sat back, he wrapped his arms at his knees and sighed heavily. “I dreamt of the day my brother died.” He wet his lips and cast his eyes to the trees. “I suspect that only worked to hasten my panic when I woke. I should have remained calm. Rational.”
I sat beside him and rested my head on his shoulder. Even through my dress and cloak, I felt the coolness of his skin. Trailing my left hand down the length of his arm, I traced the marks of our bond until my palm lay above his. Reflexively, he took my fingers, intertwining them with his own.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
Neirin tensed. “I—”
Rustling in the brush drew our attention to the dense woods, and our conversation fell away.
A moment later, Calix rushed forward, carrying a stack of folded black leather clothing.
Neirin’s uniform. A strap hung diagonally over Calix’s shoulder with a sword sheathed at his back, and in his hand was a coin sack.
“You rummaged through my pockets,” Neirin scoffed.
Calix shrugged and tossed Neirin the coins, which he caught effortlessly.
My thoughts returned to the night of the festival, when Neirin had spent an exuberant amount of coin on liquor.
Now he weighed it in his hand, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his perspective had changed.
If now, instead of viewing the silver as nothing more than metal to toss at drinks, it was the potential for a new life for us.
That kind of coin could buy us passage to the western lands.
We could live off it for several moon cycles.
It was an opportunity for safety and a fresh start.
A knot formed in my throat, and again, the trickle of unease that I was making the wrong choice here, risking too much, chilled me.