Chapter 17 #2
When the sun finally began dipping toward the horizon, I made my way to Jordan's medical supply hut. I found her there, hunched over the massive metal contraption that had arrived days earlier, her face bathed in the honeyed glow of late afternoon light.
"Remarkable," she breathed, her fingers trailing reverently across its surface. "An X-ray machine. Ruka, do you understand what this means? I can see inside the body without a single incision. Fractures, embedded objects, internal damage—all of it visible."
I lingered in the doorway, watching passion illuminate her features like an inner flame. Something warm and fierce expanded in my chest, an emotion I was still learning to articulate.
"Hungry?" I asked, keeping my voice casual despite the secret thrumming beneath my words.
She jerked her head up, blinking as though surfacing from deep water. "Oh! Yes, absolutely. I completely lost myself there." She brushed her palms against her tunic and headed for the door. "Just need to secure everything."
I stepped into the cooling evening air, my heartbeat thundering in my ears—far too loud for such a simple moment. The lock clicked behind me, followed by Jordan's light footfalls. She tucked the key into her belt pouch and turned, offering me that radiant smile that never failed to steal my breath.
Before doubt could creep in—I'd been wrestling with it all day—I reached out and wove my fingers through hers.
Her hand felt delicate against my callused palm, yet it fit as though the gods themselves had carved us to complement each other.
She didn't hesitate, didn't pull back. Instead, her smile bloomed wider, and she squeezed my hand.
We walked together through the village, our joined hands swinging slightly between us.
I was acutely aware of every point where our skin touched, of the warmth radiating from her palm into mine.
Several villagers glanced our way as we passed—Morg paused in her conversation with Argon to give me an encouraging nod, while young Kael grinned widely.
But I barely registered their reactions.
All my attention was focused on the woman beside me, on the way the fading sunlight caught the highlights in her hair, on the bliss I felt simply from holding her hand.
Jordan's steps faltered when she realized I was steering us toward the stables instead of following the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting from the common house.
"Ruka?" Her brow furrowed adorably. "The common house is that way."
I gestured to the large woven basket Zuhra had left waiting for us just outside the stable doors. "I thought we might have a picnic. Just the two of us."
The confusion melted from her face, replaced by something that made my breath catch—a dawning delight that lit her features from within. "A picnic? You planned a picnic?"
"Is that... acceptable?" The words came out hesitant. Human courtship rituals still mystified me at times, despite Jordan's patient explanations. We'd shared picnics before, but tonight felt different. Tonight had to be different.
"It's more than acceptable." Her voice went soft, intimate. "It's perfect."
Relief flooded through me as I retrieved the basket and led her into the stables, where my Friesian stallion waited.
Drakkar nickered a greeting, his massive black head swinging toward us, dark eyes gleaming with intelligence.
He was as steady as the mountains themselves—which mattered, given what I had planned.
"We're riding?" Jordan watched me saddle Drakkar, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
I couldn't help the smile that curved my lips as I remembered our first ride. She'd been nervous at first, but by the end she'd been laughing, her fingers tangled in Drakkar's mane, completely comfortable riding with me.
I wanted to give her that feeling again. And perhaps something more.
"The place I want to take you requires a bit of a journey," I explained, deliberately vague as I secured the basket on the saddle. "This will be faster. And more comfortable."
Once everything was ready, I led Drakkar into the fading light. Jordan moved toward the mounting block, but I caught her arm gently.
"Let me."
Before she could protest, I placed my hands on her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle. She gasped, steadying herself against the pommel. I swung up behind her in one fluid motion, then carefully drew her back against my chest.
"Oh," she breathed as I adjusted her position, arranging her so she sat sideways across my lap, her legs draped over one side of the horse, her back cradled by my arm.
"Comfortable?" I asked, though I was already wrapping one arm securely around her waist while gathering the reins with the other.
"Very," she murmured, and I felt her melt against me, her head finding the natural hollow of my shoulder as if the space had been carved specifically for her.
She fit perfectly. The realization struck me with the force of a revelation, even though I'd thought it countless times during our time together.
But this—the way her smaller frame tucked against mine, how absolutely right it felt to hold her this way—it was perfection.
I urged Drakkar forward with a gentle pressure of my legs, and the stallion moved into an easy, rolling gait.
Jordan's hand came to rest on my chest, just over my heart, and I wondered if she could feel how it raced at her touch.
The evening air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, but all I could focus on was her—the floral scent of whatever she'd washed her hair with, the soft rhythm of her breathing, the complete trust in how she'd relaxed against me.
"I could get used to traveling like this," she murmured, and I felt her smile against my shoulder.
"Then we'll have to do it more often," I replied, tightening my arm around her slightly, allowing myself this moment of simple contentment before we reached our destination and I asked her the question that could change everything.
We rode in comfortable silence as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. The familiar path wound through the mountains, and I felt Jordan shift slightly in my arms as we passed a distinctive outcropping of rock.
"Wait," she said, her voice carrying a note of recognition. "This is... are we going to the waterfall?"
I felt a smile tug at my lips. "Yes."
She turned her head to look up at me, her eyes searching my face. Even in the fading light, I saw the memory reflected there—that day months ago when everything changed between us.
"Our waterfall," she said softly, and the possessiveness in her voice made something warm unfurl in my chest.
"Our waterfall," I confirmed.
Jordan settled back against me, but I felt a subtle shift in her energy, a heightened awareness. "I remember that night," she said after a moment. "Our first kiss."
My arm tightened around her reflexively. "I thought it might be our first and last."
The words came out rough, carrying the memory of that fear I'd held. That Jordan would leave and that one perfect moment would be all I'd ever have of her.
"So did I," Jordan admitted quietly. Her hand pressed more firmly against my chest. "I was terrified. Of what I was feeling, of what it meant, of how impossible it all seemed." She paused, and I felt her take a deep breath. "I'm so glad I was wrong."
"As am I," I said, the words inadequate for the relief, the joy, the sheer gratitude I felt that she'd chosen to stay, to be my mate.
The path opened up, and the sound of falling water reached us, growing louder with each of Drakkar's steps.
The sun hung low on the horizon now, its light turning the mist rising from the falls into gold and copper.
It was still light outside and while the falls were popular with human visitors, I might have had a couple of warriors set up a small roadblock late in the afternoon to guarantee Jordan and would be alone.
"It's even more beautiful at sunset," Jordan breathed.
I guided Drakkar to a stop near the pool's edge and dismounted, then reached up to help Jordan down. My hands spanned her waist as I lifted her, and for a moment I held her suspended, her face level with mine, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
"Jordan," I said, her name a promise on my lips.
She leaned forward, closing the small distance between us, and pressed her lips to mine. I lowered her slowly, her body sliding against mine until her feet touched the ground, but I didn't let go. Couldn't let go. My arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as I deepened the kiss.
Her hands moved to my face, fingers tracing the line of my jaw, threading through my hair.
She tasted of honey and hope, and I lost myself in the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine.
Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to just us—her breath mingling with mine, her heartbeat racing against my chest.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Jordan's cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. "I'll never get tired of that," she whispered.
"Good," I rumbled, pressing my forehead to hers for a moment longer before reluctantly releasing her. "Because I intend to kiss you often for the rest of our lives."
She laughed, the sound like music, and stepped back to let me retrieve the basket from Drakkar's saddle.
I found a flat area near the pool, sheltered by an outcropping of rock that would catch the last rays of the setting sun, and pulled out the thick woolen blanket I'd brought.
Jordan helped me spread it out, smoothing the corners.