“How many have stayed for you?” she asks.
“Seven,” I say instinctively, before the dragon rears its head as a reminder. “Now eight.”
She stumbles on a root and I move before I think, steadying her with a hand at her elbow. Her skin is warm under my palm, and I note she doesn’t flinch or pull away from me.
A warm chuckle flows from her before she mumbles, “Thank you. That root jumped out at me.”
My hand slowly glides from her elbow to the tips of her fingers before I force myself to let go.
We resume our walk as I clear my throat, fighting the urge to wrap her small hand in mine as we continue. Purely to ensure she doesn’t have a chance to fall again.
“Are you king because of them?” she asks.
“I’m king because no one else has earned as many spirits, yes. In our society, we recognize the one in which the spirits do, as our leader.”
She slows, gaze drifting upward toward the break in the trees where the stars spill through. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmurs. “The way you connect with them.”
“It’s sacred,” I agree, voice rougher than I intend. Her recognition of the beauty in our bonds stirs my spirit's desire to claim her as ours, once more. “Each bond is a promise. I don’t wear them like weapons. I carry them like my pack.”
She doesn’t speak right away. Just runs her fingers across the leaves of a bush as we pass. Always so gentle and invested in the world around her.
When she looks at me again, her voice is quiet.
“Do they ever leave you after choosing you?”
“Not once the bond is sealed,” I answer before pausing in memory of others’ stories. “But they’ll go quiet if you break their trust.”
The trees part to reveal the final field before we reach my home. The stars stretch wide over it, illuminating the grass rippling in slow waves, touched by the gentle caress of the wind.
She steps forward first, boots brushing through the tallest tufts. Her head tilts up toward the sky and it steals my breath, seeing her at one with my lands.
The words I’ve been holding back refuse to be confined any longer, tumbling out of me. “My spirits claimed you the moment I found you.”
She turns slightly toward me, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“They felt your uncertainty and fear.” I pause, tightening my jaw before forcing the rest out. “They responded before I did.”
Her brows draw in the slightest bit, but she doesn’t interrupt, so I continue on as we walk. “To them, it wasn’t a question. You were hurt and alone. The pack protects its own.”
A breath drifts from her lips, but still she says nothing.
“I know you didn’t ask for that,” I breathe out, remembering her words about not belonging to any of us. “You didn’t choose us, and I might’ve been too much with my instincts to protect you.”
A faint smile pulls at her lips, sad but soft. “You weren’t the worst of the kings.”
“No, maybe not, but I might’ve been overwhelming.” My voice lowers further, nearly lost to the hush of the wind. “And I’m sorry for that.”
Her gaze returns to the field, thoughtful. “You listened to me this morning as the earth was splitting open.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t easy.” I say, heart thumping at the memory. “I saw someone my pack would defend with tooth and nail possibly at risk, yet I had to accept that maybe that isn’t what you want.”
She steps closer, barely brushing my arm with hers.
“You still see me that way?” she asks. “As someone worthy of being in your pack?”
I look down at her, brushing my arm over hers in return.
“I see someone who didn’t flinch when a spirit appeared,” I murmur. “Someone who faced down four powerful kings without backing away. I see your strength and curiosity.”
