GUARDING THE DOVE
“To each, a mate will be given—not to possess, but to protect. In the arms of their chosen, the earth shall begin to breathe again.”
—Elder Aïna, Oath of Guardianship, spoken beneath the moonlit trees
Theron
“It’s getting cold, and you should rest,” I tell my brave Noël. “Let me prepare a nest for you.”
She furrows her brow, tilting her head. “A nest?” she asks. “Like what birds make?”
I grin. “In a way, yes. A place of comfort, safety. For us, it’s where we rest and where we find peace after a long day.”
She blinks. “You mean . . . a bed?”
“A bed?” I repeat. “Yes, I suppose that’s what you’d call it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “It’s called a bed,” she insists, though her voice is gentle, not harsh.
I smile and nod. “A bed, then. Let me prepare your bed.”
“I can make my own bed,” she says as she sits on a log, one leg crossed over the other. I have never seen such a sittingposition. I don’t think I could even sit like that, not with a sac. I haven’t seen our females sit like that either. Humans are so different.
“I know you can, but let me do this thing for you.” As she opens her mouth to protest, I say, “After you stabbed me, I should get to.”
She closes her mouth and looks to the side. Pride? I hum in amusement.
I begin gathering leaves and moss and arranging them beneath a large tree. Each piece I place is meant to cushion her, to make her feel at ease. The moonlight filters through the branches, glowing over the clearing and my beautiful mate.
The plush plants beneath my paws remind me of the nights I spent alone, waking from dreams that left me with an aching emptiness. Instinctively, I would reach out beside me, searching for someone, only to grasp at nothing but the cold air.
That emptiness, it’s all I’ve known for so long. And now, with her here, I feel the pull even stronger, the need to fill that void, to have her beside me. And to make her mine.
The way her body would fit perfectly in that space, the warmth she would bring to the cold, lonely nights. I want to be the one who comforts her, who protects her, who wakes beside her.
But I understand her. I see the anger and frustration in her eyes. I want to tell her that I feel it, too, that the weight of it all crushes me as well. But I can’t force her to understand, to feel the bond between us like I do. I can’t make her accept this fate because it’s what I want. And that’s the hardest part of all—holding back when every part of me, down to each individual hair, itches to claim what is mine.
I’ve never been patient. Never been this kind. Before her, my life was simpler. Train, lead, protect. It was all so clear. But now, I feel like I’m walking through the fog, lost in my own wants andneeds. I don’t know how to make her see it, how to explain the depth of this bond, how much I need her.
While I make the nest—no, the bed—I steal glances at Noël. She sits quietly, lost in her thoughts, her face bathed in the glow of the moonlight. Even through the fatigue I see in her eyes, there’s still that spark of will burning in her. She’s been through so much, yet she remains strong.
“It’s ready,” I say, stepping back to admire the bed-nest. “I hope you find it comfortable.”
Noël smiles, a tired but genuine smile. “Thank you, Theron. It looks perfect.”
As she settles into the nest, I sit beside her.
“I need to go back to Tárnov,” she whispers, almost as if she’s confessing something forbidden. “I need to understand what happened to my mother.”
“You told me her death was... sudden,” I say as I brush a leaf from her arm, “but what makes you think going back to Tárnov will give you answers?”
Noël’s gaze hardens as she turns her head, fire flaring in her eyes. “If I go back, maybe I’ll find something she left behind. I can’t just leave all that unresolved. I didn’t even go through the whole house yet.”
Though I understand her drive to uncover the truth, my instincts scream caution. “Do you think it’s safe to return to Tárnov now? You’ve said yourself that women aren’t allowed to leave. It’s dangerous.”
Her lips press together. “I know it’s not safe,” she admits. “But I can’t ignore what happened. People saw me with Arnold. The inn was crowded, there were witnesses. By now, the whole village is probably looking for me.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “They’ll want to drag me back, or worse. There was this woman, years ago, who tried to leave. They caught her and hanged her in the village square. That wasbefore I was even born, and since then, no woman has dared to try again.”
