FIVE #2
For a millennia, a male returning to this cave—and his home in his old world—at the end of every day with only his shadows for company. Eating alone. Sleeping alone. Speaking so rarely that silence became normal.
No wonder he hadn't recognised loneliness. How could he? Loneliness had simply become his life.
My throat tightens. “Maelor....”
His gaze returns to mine. It’s steady and patient, as though discussing centuries of solitude is no more significant than discussing the weather.
The realisation hurts more than it should.
His unwavering gaze returns to mine. Then, in a voice rough enough to scrape directly across my heart, he says, “Until yesterday, I did not realise something was missing.”
The air leaves my lungs.
The bond surges softly between us, warm and steady, and for one suspended moment, everything narrows to the space between us. The cave. The morning light. The impossible connection tying us together.
And the terrifying certainty that somewhere along the way, this male has become important to me.
Far more important than he should be after a single day.
The worst part? I suspect exactly the same thing has happened to him.
The thought settles between us, quiet and dangerous.
For a few moments, neither of us speaks.
The morning light creeping through the cave entrance has shifted, spilling further across the stone floor, while somewhere beyond the valley a distant bird—or whatever passed for birds in Terrafeara—calls into the stillness.
Eventually, I clear my throat. “So what happens now?”
Maelor’s gaze remains fixed on me. “We complete the bonds.”
The certainty in his voice should probably alarm me. Instead, it mostly makes me curious.
“How many mates do Hendroy usually have?” I’m completely assuming here that Hendroy is his species.
His brow furrows slightly. “One.”
I wait when something in his expression shifts, subtle and heavy.
“There are few Hendroy.”
The answer catches me off guard. Up until now, I’d been so focused on Maelor himself that I’d barely considered there might be others like him somewhere beyond these mountains. The thought should be reassuring. Instead, something in his expression makes my chest tighten. “How few?”
His gaze drifts towards the cave entrance where the distant peaks rise against the green sky. For a moment, I get the impression he’s looking far beyond them, towards a world neither of us can see.
“I do not know now. Time moves differently between worlds.” His voice is quiet when he continues. “Before I came here, there were very few.”
The ache returns immediately. Not because of the number but because of the way he says it. As though he’s already mourning something.
“We struggle to create offspring. A mate bond is rare. A completed bond is rarer.”
The pieces begin falling into place one by one, and I sit a little straighter. “And you didn’t have one.”
For the first time since meeting him, Maelor looks away. The movement is small, but it says more than words ever could.
“I was the only Hendroy without a mate.”
The confession lands heavily between us.
Suddenly I can see it with painful clarity. An entire species finding their other halves while one male remains behind, watching year after year pass without understanding why. Wondering whether something was wrong with him. Wondering whether he’d somehow been forgotten.
My chest hurts. Not from the bruises this time, but from the thought of him carrying that alone.
“I did not understand,” he says eventually, his gaze returning to mine. “Not then.”
“Understand what?”
“Why I remained alone.”
The simple honesty in his voice nearly undoes me. For a moment, I can’t speak.
Then he tells me about the lightning.
Not a storm. Not weather. The strange flashes that sometimes appeared in the sky between worlds. The same phenomenon that brought pieces of Earth to Terrafeara. The same phenomenon that brought him here.
At first, he’d thought it was punishment. Then coincidence. Then simply another mystery that would never be answered.
Now, sitting across from me, he no longer sounds uncertain. “The lightning brought me here.”
The words settle into the silence.
Slowly.
Inevitable.
My pulse quickens. “Because of me?”
The question barely emerges above a whisper.
His gaze doesn’t waver. “Because my mate would be here.”
The certainty in his voice steals the breath from my lungs.
For a moment, I don’t know what to do with the information.
Part of me wants to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it.
Another part wants to cry. The rest of me feels completely overwhelmed by the idea that this male spent years believing he’d been left behind only to discover the answer wasn’t in his world at all.
It was in another one.
It was me.
The thought should feel impossible. Instead, it settles somewhere deep inside me.
Dangerous.
Terrifying.
Beautiful.
I need to ask something else before I drown in the emotion of it. “Were you always alone here?”
The question shifts something in him, and his expression grows distant. “No.”
The answer surprises me. “You weren’t?”
“I tried.”
The simple admission breaks my heart. Because I know exactly how much effort those two words cost him.
“I sought companionship. Friendship. Others.” His gaze drifts towards the cave entrance again. “Many feared me. Others wanted what I could do rather than who I was.”
The sadness in his voice is quiet enough that I almost miss it.
Almost.
My chest tightens. “So you stopped trying.”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The silence says enough.
I think about the cave. The isolation. The way he’d reacted to simple kindness. The way he’d looked relieved because I enjoyed breakfast. Nobody should have to be that alone.
The thought lingers long after the conversation moves on.
Then another question occurs to me. One that’s been bothering me since yesterday.
“Wait.”
His attention sharpens immediately.
“The six-legged creature.”
The shadows around him darken slightly.
Interesting. Apparently we’re both holding grudges.
“You can travel through shadows.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
The answer seems obvious. I’d seen what he could do. He could vanish. Reappear. Move between places in ways that made my brain hurt. Yet he’d stayed. He’d fought. He’d nearly gotten himself killed.
Maelor becomes very still. “I felt you.” The words are quiet. Certain. “I knew you were close.”
The thread beneath my ribs hums softly.
“I could not find you. The bond was new. I knew only that you had entered Terrafeara.”
My throat tightens. “You were looking for me.”
“Yes,” he says with no hesitation, and with the same certainty he’s had about everything involving us.
His gaze never leaves mine as he continues. “The creature remained near your location. If I left, I risked leaving you unprotected.”
The room suddenly feels much smaller… because he stayed. Not because he thought he would win. Not because he enjoyed fighting. Because somewhere nearby was a female he’d never met. A woman he couldn’t even find. And he refused to risk her safety.
The knowledge crashes into me. Hard.
Before I can think better of it, I’m moving. The kiss lands softly against his cheek. Warm skin meets my lips, and for one suspended heartbeat, neither of us breathes. The bond flares warmly between us while Maelor goes completely still.
When I pull back, he’s staring at me as though I’ve just rewritten reality. Honestly, it’s adorable.
“Thank you.” My words emerge quietly.
His expression remains frozen.
I suspect I’ve broken him. Good. It’s nice to know he’s not the only one capable of causing emotional damage.
Unfortunately, a far more pressing problem immediately reasserts itself. I clear my throat. “On a completely unrelated note...”
Maelor blinks.
I point towards the cave entrance. “Where does one wash up around here?”
His brow furrows.
I sigh. “And, more importantly, where does one pee? Because I’ve been stranded in another dimension for less than twenty-four hours and somehow haven’t addressed that problem once.”
For the first time since meeting him, Maelor actually laughs.