Chapter 17 #2
“Has it escaped yours?” He caught the jeans one-handed, making no move to put them on. “Because I could stay this way if you prefer.”
“Put your pants on, Thornbern. Your data point is distracting, and I need coffee.”
He dressed with theatrical reluctance, sighing heavily as if I’d demanded he donate a kidney rather than simply clothe himself. “The sacrifices I make for your comfort.”
“Truly, your selflessness knows no bounds,” I said dryly, heading for the kitchen area. “They should erect statues in your honor. ‘Here stands Brody Thornbern, who heroically put on pants when asked.’”
His laugh followed me, warm and genuine. “I’d prefer my statue to be pants-less, if I get a vote.”
The kitchen area offered welcome distraction. Brody heated water while I investigated the cooling box, finding fresh fruit that looked impossibly perfect. “The Fae do seem to know their comforts,” I observed, arranging berries on a plate.
“Life’s too long not to appreciate the finer things,” he replied, turning to face me fully. His eyes caught mine, amusement fading into something more intense. “Speaking of appreciation, thank you. For last night.”
“For the massage? It was just practical. We both needed to relax before…”
“Not that.” His voice dropped lower. “For trusting me with your story. About your mother, Oxford. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
I busied myself with slicing strange bread that smelled of honey and spice, avoiding his gaze. “Yes, well. Temporary insanity brought on by magical hot springs. Don’t read too much into it.”
His hand covered mine on the counter, stilling my nervous movements. “Rozi. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I met his eyes.
“I meant what I said last night,” he continued, his expression solemn. “You’re still you—talented, fierce, independent—even if you let someone in occasionally. Even if that someone is me.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache with longing for something I’d convinced myself I didn’t need, didn’t want. I pulled my hand away, needing distance from the dangerous temptation he represented.
“We should eat quickly,” I said, deflecting. “If we want to reach the COL by midday.”
“It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?” Brody said. “The partial bond.”
Damn. We’re going there… right now. He wouldn’t be Brody, allowing me to avoid this long-overdue conversation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, though we both knew better.
“You do,” he insisted gently. “That’s how it works, Rozi. First comes recognition, instant and undeniable. That’s what happened in the savanna between us. Then, with proximity, the partial bond forms naturally, connecting us even without our permission.”
“And then comes the third stage…” I said.
His gaze dropped to the spot between my neck and shoulder. “The mating bite. The conscious choice that seals everything. Makes it permanent. Unbreakable.”
A shiver ran through me at the naked hunger in his eyes. “That’s not happening,” I said firmly, though my cheetah hissed in protest.
“We’ll see,” was all he said, with that infuriating confidence that made me want to both slap him and pull him closer.
“You rejected me,” I said, needing to remind us both of that unforgivable fact. “You walked away when we first met. Why should I ever trust you with the final claiming?”
His eyes met mine, filled with regret so genuine it made my chest ache. “Because I’ve spent a long time paying for that mistake. Because I’m not running this time. And because this partial bond forming between us now is just a shadow of what we could have if we completed it.”
“Or what we could lose,” I countered, “if things went wrong again.”
He didn’t deny it. “The strongest bonds come with the greatest risks,” he said simply. “That’s the price of truly connecting with someone.”
I looked away, unable to hold his gaze without revealing too much. “I need time.”
He arranged the sliced bread on a platter. “We have time,” he replied, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. The expedition had its limits. My time in the Ridge had an end date.
I didn’t want to talk about us—not when my heart and head were waging their own private war. I deliberately steered us to safer waters.
“I think the Swarmers’ hunting behavior yesterday could be influenced by environmental factors,” I said, setting two plates on the small table. “Seasonal changes or reproductive cycles can cause territorial behavior in apex predators.”
“But Swarmers are different,” he said, bringing coffee to the table. “They’re Fae creations, not natural evolution. Their behavior follows patterns even the Bane pack hasn’t fully decoded.”
“So you’re saying they’re mysterious, dangerous, and potentially misunderstood,” I summarized, taking a sip of my coffee. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Are you comparing me to a venomous six-limbed predator?”
“If the fangs fit,” I replied innocently.
As we ate, I found myself stealing glances at him, the way his hand wrapped around his mug, the shadow of stubble darkening his jaw, the play of muscles beneath his shirt.
Each observation sent a fresh wave of awareness through me, my body responding to his proximity in ways my mind couldn’t control.
The food was indeed extraordinary, berries that burst with flavor more intense than seemed possible, bread with texture like a cloud and taste like honey and spice. Under different circumstances, I might have collected samples for analysis. Today, I was content to simply enjoy the experience.
“The COL is likely a full day’s round trip from here,” Brody said, rising to clear our plates. “We’ll need to make it back to this cabin by nightfall.”
I nodded, mentally calculating distances and terrain. “No dawdling in the spring, then. Just sample collection and observation.”
His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “You? Not wanting to spend hours lost in scientific discovery? Who are you, and what have you done with Dr. Dhahabu?”
I threw a napkin at him, which he caught easily. “I’m being practical. We’ve already encountered Swarmers once. I’m not eager to face them in darkness, regardless of how magnificent the COL might be.”
“Wise decision,” he agreed, his expression sobering. “I’d rather not test my fighting skills against nocturnal predators if we can avoid it.”
“Your heroism has limits after all.” I grinned. “And here I thought you’d wrestle a Swarmer naked just to impress me.”
He pressed a hand to his heart. “I’d at least wear pants. I’m not a savage.”
Twenty minutes later, we’d packed our gear and stood ready at the dwelling’s threshold. Brody had added a jacket over his Henley, though the memory of what lay beneath those layers lingered vividly in my mind.
“We should reach the COL by midday if we maintain a steady pace,” he said, shouldering his pack. I noticed the tremor in his left hand was more pronounced this morning, a fact I cataloged with clinical concern and something else I refused to acknowledge.
“The sooner we get there, the sooner we can collect samples,” I replied, adjusting my own pack. I’d spent some time organizing collection containers, labeled and ready for whatever plants we might discover growing near the Mother Spring.
“Stay close today,” he said as we stepped outside, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The Swarmer activity yesterday was unusual. They’re normally solitary hunters.”
“Maybe they’re mating,” I suggested again.
His lips quirked in a half smile. “Only you would immediately think about the reproductive habits of venomous predators.”
“It’s a logical consideration,” I said, ignoring the warmth that spread through me with his smile. “Unlike some species I could name, I don’t have a one-track mind.”
“Says the woman who spent five minutes staring at my data point this morning.”
“Oh, please.” I scoffed, hiding my smile as we began walking. “Three minutes, max. I’m very efficient.”
The path grew steeper as we climbed, the forest around us changing subtly.
The trees here were older, massive trunks gnarled into shapes that seemed almost deliberate.
Moss glowed with increasing brightness, the blue luminescence visible even in daylight.
The air felt different too, thicker, charged with potential like the moments before a lightning strike.
“We’re getting closer,” Brody said, his voice hushed with reverence. “The COL’s energy affects everything around it.”
My rational brain screamed that this was impossible, but my eyes couldn’t deny what stood before me.
Exotic flowers erupted from the earth in a riot of colors I’d never seen in nature, violent purples, electric blues, and oranges so vivid they almost hurt to look at.
Vines twisted up tree trunks in perfect spirals, as if someone had meticulously trained each tendril by hand.
“This isn’t natural,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.
The blue moss grew thicker as we ascended, carpeting everything in its path. Its eerie glow synchronized with my racing heartbeat, brightening with each step I took upward. The air felt charged, electric against my skin.
“Look at this,” I said, crouching to examine a cluster of flowers growing in a perfect spiral pattern. “These are arranged exactly like the diagram in Una’s journal, but clearer.”
Brody knelt beside me, his proximity sending an unwelcome jolt of awareness through my system. “Una theorized that plants near the COL grow in concentric circles, each species occupying a specific distance from the source.”
“Like a natural mandala,” I murmured. “I need samples from each ring to analyze their relationship to the water.”
The air grew increasingly still as we ascended, the forest sounds fading until all I could hear was our breathing and the occasional distant drip of water. Even the birds had gone silent. The absence of natural noise made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.