My chest tightens.
The way she positions her body between danger and her young. The way the fawn mirrors her movements without understanding why, trusting that her instinct alone will keep it alive. Life teaching life how to continue.
I’m fully aware that the meat of the doe would last weeks. It could feed a whole settlement for some time. But ending one brings about the end of the other. Their lives are bound together, so I continue to watch until they disappear back into the trees.
Only then do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
This.
This is what Orán doesn’t see.
The way this world and everything in it fights to live on in small, stubborn ways.
Sometimes the right choice is to choose restraint rather than conquest. Life doesn’t simply come down to souls and scales and covenants. Life holds more meaning than that, or at least it should.
I stay in the tree until the forest quiets and dusk appears. Until the ache in my chest lessens. Until the forest reminds me who I am.
Lila has muffin crumbs coating her lips and a milk stain working hard to disguise itself as a mustache.
I shake my head and pass her a napkin. She takes it without breaking stride in her rambling, wiping at her mouth while her thoughts continue to tumble out unchecked.
Today she’s wearing a yellow floral top with small white and coral blossoms and a pair of white leggings. Big, fluffy socks are pulled up to her calves, and her hair—still damp from her swim in the lake—is twisted into a messy knot on top of her head, loose strands escaping around her temples.
One hand rests instinctively on her growing belly. The other is already reaching for another muffin.
If she weren’t such a good cook, I’d fear her eating me out of house and home. But she pulls her weight. Helps with chores. Tends the garden beds. Keeps the place running and everyone fed when I’m away.
Since she arrived, my days have not only been less lonely but also less monotonous.
“He told me a little about his life before,” she says around a mouthful. “When he was human.”
I arch a brow. “And what did you learn?”
“Did you know he’s a twin? That one threw me. And Irish. I mean, I kind of got that from the accent, but I wasn’t sure if that was just to entice the masses or what. I thought being an immortal, he was just made that way, but no. He and his brother were reborn, or that’s the verbiage he used. Dead men brought back to life. The things you learn about a Horseman when you’re locked up with one, am I right?”
I pause with the muffin raised to my own mouth. “Wait, go back. A twin?”
She grins and nods enthusiastically. “Yep. Pollock or Conquest or the one you call Soul Serpent. That’s his mothereffing twin. Can you believe it?
“The White Horseman?”
“Uh-huh. They were both remade. Identical twins, and to hear how he tells it, they were once inseparable. Oh, they’re like way old. Like he robbed the cradle in a way no man has ever done before.”
“Stop.” I reach out and playfully smack her arm.
“Just sayin’. Nothing better than a finely aged Irishman with an accent.” Her grin is ridiculous, and the wink…over the top.
“They’re old because they’re immortal.”
“But also…” She rips off a piece of muffin and tosses it into her mouth. “Because when they were alive, it was like ages and ages ago. He said something about a clan. Not sure what that is.” Her eyes flit up to the ceiling and back down to my face. “I didn’t really understand much of that part. He said his father was their clan leader. And this was in a remote part of Ireland, way before there were cities and towns. Like no roads, cars, or things like that. They were essentially going to be lords if they hadn’t died so young. They grew up in a castle and everything. But like, with no electricity, no plumbing, so I’m not really sure that’s worth raving about. But yes, a real live castle, one that probably doesn’t exist today, or if it does, it’s in ruins now. Can you believe it? That’s crazy, right?” Her exuberance vibrates in the space around her, and her smiles are contagious.
Then she pulls a face. In a flash, her smile vanishes.
“I mean. Castle life back in the day always sounded cool until you realize they had it rough like that. Not anymore. No, thank you. Hard pass.”
I huff quietly. “We don’t have any of that now.”
“Yes, but we did, and we’ve made use of what we can to mimic plumbing. It’s not the same, but better than nothing.”
