Chapter Four #2
“Will you tell me?” Miles asks carefully, picking up his glass of wine and taking a sip. “About the maturous trial?”
I mirror his posture, sitting back in my chair and sipping my wine.
“It’s sacred,” is what I start with, wanting him to truly understand.
“This ritual has been passed down from generation to generation. As I’m sure you know, it’s believed that our ancestors are still with us.
Living in the wind and the sunlight and the stars, watching us and helping guide us. ”
“That’s beautiful,” Miles says, a kind smile on his face. He nods for me to go on.
“A warrior will stand before his people as Ghenie declares him ready for a matron. All those who feel themselves worthy will step forward. Sometimes there will be only one person. I predict tomorrow there will only be one as Saphorica and Quill are already known to have feelings for each other. Sometimes there are many who step forward.”
Miles clears his throat. “When it’s your turn, how many do you think will step up?”
My heart is racing against my ribs, my tail wrapping itself around my ankle and tightening, not wanting to lash out in irritation.
“It doesn’t truly matter,” I say softly.
“There will be as many as wish to compete. But I trust in the maturous trial and that my one, true partner will find his way to me.”
Miles nods to himself, staring down into his wine.
All I wanna do is reach out and touch him, to find that smile again and smooth away that frown.
My tail releases my ankle. It slides over Miles’ thigh.
Miles jolts, his eyes widening and for a split second I worry I’ve finally gone too far.
But instead he’s reaching down and running his finger over the arrowhead-shaped end.
I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to break the moment despite the way the gesture tickles.
“Thank you for explaining,” Miles whispers, his voice barely audible. “Do you know when your maturous trial is?”
I shake my head. “Ghenie decides these things. When someone feels ready, they go to Ghenie and discuss things. Then a date is chosen. There are some exceptions when Ghenie picks when you’re ready for you,” I explain.
I can’t help but smile to myself, thinking about one of my fellow comrades, Charm.
He was so fucking stubborn. His heart beat for one, yet he insisted he did not wish to be mated, didn’t want to be in love.
The truth was, he was afraid someone else would enter his trial or that Sharoon wouldn’t go through it to be with Charm.
So he kept putting it off, saying he wasn’t ready.
He would have gone forever if Ghenie had let him.
That day, Charm stood in front of our people as Sharoon jumped into the trial and as always, the ancestors led two hearts together into becoming one.
Now he’s at home and pregnant with his first child, very happily mated.
Miles opens his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He shakes his head, like he’s shaking the thoughts going through his head away. He looks at me, putting a smile back on his face. “Such a serious conversation. Tonight was supposed to be laid back and fun.”
“I’m having fun,” I tell him seriously. “Any time spent with you is good time spent.”
Miles’ cheeks heat once more and I do a small inner dance of victory. His finger continues tracing random patterns against my tail. He finally looks back up, his brown eyes taking on a determined look to them. “I know I’ve said this already, but I’m really glad you’re okay, Timalah.”
I reach out and touch his shoulder, ignoring the sparks that run through my arm at being able to touch him. “Thank you for saving me. I was sure that was my day to join our ancestors.”
“Not on my watch,” he tells me with a little smile. “It made me realize something.”
“And what’s that, Dorshkah?”
Miles bites his bottom lip. “I didn’t want you to die.”
I snort. “For that I am eternally grateful.”
Miles flicks my tail, making us both chuckle.
He looks at me, his demeanor growing serious.
Because we are touching I could so easily reach into his brain and pull out the surface thoughts, to finally figure out what’s going on inside his head.
But I don’t. I want him to say it out loud for me. I want it to be on Miles’ terms.
Miles swallows thickly, the sound of his throat clicking loud in my ears. “I just,” his hand tightens around my tail, making my heart flip. “Almost losing you put some things into perspective for me.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“But I want to,” he says right away. “I want you to know how I feel.”
“And how do you feel? I hope I already know but I need you to tell me. I won’t do anything without your lead, Miles.”
Miles’ eyes widen at my words, like he’s only just realizing that there’s a chance I share his feelings. Such a silly human. How could I not feel the same way?
“I realized I didn’t want you to die without you knowing how much I care about you. Ever since that night we first met,” he says carefully. He licks his lips, composing himself. “I don’t even know if you could feel the same for me. We’re so different. But I don’t care.”
He’s working himself up, his cheeks turning a bright red. I hate seeing him so stressed out. I place my finger on his lip, making him pause. His eyes bore into mine, silently begging me to say something. “I do feel the same,” I whisper. “May I kiss you?”
Miles nods his head. When I pull my finger away he doesn’t just wait for me to kiss him. No, not my Miles. My Miles leaps out of his chair and into my lap, bracing his hands against my shoulders, making me hiss as he touches my shoulder wound.
“Shit, sorry,” he murmurs. “I’ve already ruined this before we’ve even started.”
“There’s no way you could ruin this,” I tell him seriously, my hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Now kiss me. Please.”
And finally he does. His lips against mine are sweet with wine, supple and soft.
I worry my fangs will get in the way as I open my lips for his probing tongue.
Instead, I feel that same tongue lick across my fang, a moan vibrating between us.
The wine might have left me feeling light but somehow, this kiss makes me feel like I’m coming off the ground and floating away.
My stomach swoops with unadulterated giddiness and something inside my chest is slotting into place.
His taste, his scent, the feel of him against me, it all feels so right.
With Miles in my lap, I can’t stop myself from growing hard in my pants.
As we kiss, Miles’ ass rubs against my erection, teasing it to full hardness.
My hand moves from his cheek, running through his silky golden hair.
My Dorshkah, my delicious golden nugget.
My chest feels near bursting and I wish I could capture this moment and live in it forever where all of our hopes and dreams and affections can’t be touched by the outside world.
“Timalah,” he breathes my name against my lips like a prayer, like a final benediction, like there’s no going back. And fuck, I hope that’s how he feels because I’m positive that’s everything I could ever hope to want.
I lean up and kiss him again, savoring the taste of his mouth and the way his tongue is so soft against my own. I pull back enough to kiss his jaw, trying to memorize the little noises he’s making, wondering if this is all I’ll ever get. If it is, I promise to cherish it forever.
“Are you tired?” Miles asks breathlessly, his hand cupping my cheek and pulling my face away from his throat. “I know you’re still recovering.”
“Never too tired for you.”
Miles nods his head, a grin crossing his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. Timalah, will you take me to bed?”