Chapter 14
Sting
Scents of green aloe vera and gardenia waft into the kitchen, telling me Hyacinth is back from her walk and has showered.
The ease with which she has slid into my world never ceases to amaze me.
Our days pass with ease, with laughter and love.
I can’t get enough of her, of us together.
No one ever told me life could feel this satisfying.
Adding the salad dressing and toss the salad we’re having for dinner, I ponder converting the empty animal trough into an outdoor tub for the two of us. I think she would like that surprise. Sunsets in the tub.
When she appears, hair still damp, cheeks scrubbed fresh and rosy, wearing a thin linen robe, tied tight but short enough to tease me with the sight of her plump, gorgeous thighs, I’m ready to toss that salad aside and devour her right here on the kitchen counter.
Two steps around the kitchen island toward her and I pause.
Her face, normally so open and cheery, is solemn.
Her beautiful eyes are sorrowful. Something has happened.
My mate mark heats under my skin, putting me on alert.
I can feel the pull of shifting, of wanting armor and a weapon to protect her, us.
Hyacinth reaches for my hand and I take hers and pull her toward me. She keeps enough space between us that she’s looking into my eyes. That’s when I see her bottom lip tremble. “What’s wrong? Who’s hurt you?” I ask, wanting to fix the entire world for her.
“No one,” she shakes her head and tries to put on a brave smile.
My brave Hyacinth. “I just—I have something I need to say.” I nod, keeping my lips shut tight, letting her have the space and time she needs.
“I—I think I love you. I mean, I know I love you, and I’ve loved our time here together.
But, I miss community, other people, my co-workers, the library.
I miss being in a town.” She crinkles her nose and eyes up the way she does when she thinks whatever she’s saying I won’t like. Now it’s my turn to shake my head.
My need to be away from civilization is not hers, I know that. It guts me that she’s suffering here, because of me. I never intended for her to feel isolated. She’s integrated into my life so seamlessly, I had no idea of her needs. Anger floods me—anger at myself, at my short-sightedness.
“Listen Hyacinth, I love you. And I could never force a hermit lifestyle on you. Not if you don’t want it.
So let’s chat.” Using the tongs, I fill our salad bowls, then ladle soup into stoneware pottery.
I can see, sense, her hesitation, but she grabs two bowls and follows me to the patio.
The sky is so pink it makes my teeth hurt.
It’s the same pink of Hyacinth’s lips right before I kiss them.
Even though there’s food in front of us, neither of us can eat.
She swirls her spoon around in her soup bowl, then slowly brings her eyes to mine—telling me all the things she can’t say.
That she hopes I have a solution. That her needs are important but asking for what she needs is so foreign to her.
Clearing my throat, I shake myself out of the reverie of losing myself in the depths of her eyes.
“I love you, Hyacinth.” I bring my hand to my mate mark.
“Because of you, I am irrevocably changed, and I am better for it. For you. I can’t go to Las Vegas, but I know a town where monsters are accepted, live side by side with humans.
It’s small…quaint, let’s say. Would you be willing to check it out with me? ”
“I like quaint,” she says in a whisper. “I don’t need a city. I like small towns. I like quiet. I like having a community.” Though she’s hesitant, I can already hear the buoyancy—hope is building for both of us. With a nod, a plan is made.
The trek to Westfang is easy, especially with Hyacinth on my back.
I wasn’t sure if she would want to ride on me again, but she giggled eagerly when I gave the option.
We start just as the sky lightens, slowly snuffing each star from the sky, until it’s a hazy lavender.
The coolness of the morning feels good on my skin.
I love the way she shivers with a pre-dawn breeze and snuggles into me.
By the time the sun is fully in the sky, we’ve arrived in Westfang.
For her sake and mine, I stuff all my awkwardness down deep.
I’m on decent enough terms with the townsfolk, especially the orcs.
Extra especially the saloon owner who makes a signature cocktail with my mezcal.
But it’s too early for booze, so I take us straight to the bakery for a cup of tea for her, coffee for me, and pastries.
Hyacinth’s face beams in delight as she says good morning to the gruff orc behind the counter, waves at the little kids in the corner with doughnuts, oooohs, and ahhhhs at the breakfast options.
It could just be that she’s hungry, but I have a feeling it’s more than that.
We take a seat, front and center of the bakery’s window.
She wiggles a little dance as she sips her chai and dunks her bear claw into the tea.
“This is so fun,” she says with a smile at me.
I grumble something about being glad she’s glad and drink my black coffee, wishing it were stronger. It’s not that I am uncomfortable, it’s just that I prefer our little bubble. The two of us and no one else. No one to make comments or ask inappropriate questions.
Sheriff Wylder comes in, his green skin a stark contrast against his khaki uniform. He tips his hat at us and chats with the locals. Eventually, he makes his way to us. “How are your kits?”
“Almost ready to be released,” I say, appreciating the way the sheriff cuts right to the chase. No frills or formalities.
“They’re so feisty now!” Hyacinth pops in, eager to meet everyone, I guess. Wylder smiles at her, and my tail threatens to make itself known.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. Sheriff Wylder,” he says, hand out. She shakes it. If I had fur, my hackles would be raised. She my mate. Not even the sheriff of Westfang, whom I’ve known the longest, can touch her.
“Hi, I’m Hyacinth. Nice to meet you.” More smiles. More sunbeams erupting. It takes one shake of her hand, one sniff of the air, for him to know everything.
“You must be Sting’s mate?” She nods excitedly, another bite of bear claw in her mouth preventing her from speaking.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Sting needs someone to soften him up a bit.
I hope you enjoy Westfang. If you can convince him to move here, we’d all be delighted.
Lanz and I have been trying to get him to move closer to town for years.
” He chuckles a bit, like it’s funny that I’m so reclusive. Hyacinth looks at me in a knowing way.
Uh oh.
Yes, I brought her here. Knew it was an option for her to want to make a life here, with me. But I really didn’t expect her decision to be made in a matter of minutes of arriving in this dusty town.
“We’re going to walk around after we finish breakfast,” Hyacinth tells Wylder, “but I like it already. Neither of us are city people. And it’s so cute here!
” She looks out at the wooden boardwalk that frames a desert cactus garden.
Main Street is covered in cute businesses, wooden carved and painted signs giving the place an old-timey feel, while maintaining a modern freshness.
Wylder makes a noise, almost a snort, and gives me the look.
The you know you now live here look that I’ve been hoping to avoid.
“Well, I’ll let you two get to it. Let me know if I can help you in any way.
” He tips his broad brimmed hat again at Hyacinth, then slaps my shoulder as he walks away, whistling.
Once she finishes her tea and wipes her mouth, she leans at me, hands eager on the edge of the table. “What’s next? Who are we meeting now?”
“Let’s go browse the bookstore and the general store.” And with that, she loops her arm through mine and we take off down the boardwalk to inspect the town more thoroughly. I leave my tail free, happy to feel more like myself in public, something I can’t do in the city.
Each word out of her sweet mouth confirms that this is the right choice.
This is what she needs to be happy. And a happy Hyacinth is now my goal in life.
We meet Lanz and Tenn, who mosey through town on horseback.
Her squeal at seeing orcs on giant horses might be my favorite moment of the day.
I make a note to introduce her to the large animal vet later.
We grab a drink at the saloon after what feels like hours of browsing the bookstore. She doesn’t buy anything, but I see her eyeing a special edition of some classic of Jane Austen, and I ask Beryl to keep it aside for me. We’ll pick it up when we are back in a few days.
“Tell me,” she says as she sips the signature cocktail, “will you be happy here?” I see the concern in her eyes.
It makes me angry. Mad that she would stay unhappy if she thought that’s what I needed.
Angry that her sister takes advantage of her all the time, doing the same thing.
Frustrated that she feels it’s her job in life to bend herself into a pretzel for the people she cares for.
“Hyacinth, the truth is—I’ll be happy anywhere on this planet, as long as I’m with you.
You’re my mate. My north star. My honeycomb.
I was alone by choice, but I was not happy.
I was surviving. You have brought me to life, since I met you in the desert, all dehydrated and sunburnt.
Seeing you ooh and aah over simple things today, like your favorite chai, or a favorite author’s book, is the very bottom of what I want to give you.
Those should be yours everyday. I want to give those to you each and every day.
So yes. I will be happy here. As long as you’re here next to me. ”
She reaches out and takes my hand and squeezes. Her small fingers are electric, causing ripple of sparks across my hand. “Thank you,” she whispers, and it’s here that I notice tears in her eyes.
“Oh. Don’t cry. Anything but that.” Panic rises in me. I made Hyacinth cry. Reaching forward to swipe away her tears with my other hand, she grasps it. Kisses it.
“They’re happy tears, promise. No one has ever put me first like you do. I just—I don’t know how to process this feeling. This—being cared for this way. I love it. I love you.”
“Come on, let’s go home. We have kits to feed.”
Together we walk to the edge of town, admiring the long shadows of the giant cactus. I kiss her gently on the lips, licking off the sweetness from her drink. “I love you, Hyacinth. I will care for you every day. I take great pride and pleasure in that responsibility.”
I lower onto all my legs, she hops onto my back, and we take off for home. For now.