Except it doesn’t feel rushed. Sure, it’s only been a few short hours, but time moves differently here. For the past few months, watching her, I’ve known she was special. Even if I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why. But that first moment she was in my arms, I knew. Sadie is mine. Taking a human mate is not unheard of, but it’s become less common over the last century. That’s why there’s so much pushback.
At the river, the water flows swiftly, running down from higher up the mountain. Even with the recent snowfall, there is still enough for me to fill Sadie’s bottle. It’s not much of an offering. If I had more time, I could come up with a better gift. Something I could use to charm my mate. That will have to be on the list for another time. Tonight, this is the best I can do.
Within seconds, I’m back, offering her the now-full bottle. She eyes me carefully, unsure whether she should accept the offering.
“It’s clean,” I assure her. Are humans so fragile that different kinds of water hurt them? That’s something I’ll need to ask around about. If only she came with some sort of guidebook.
She nods and takes a careful sip before gulping down half the bottle.
My mate. The thought rings in my head.Claim.I push back my internal thoughts, the primal ones begging me to haul her over to my bed and have my way with her. That part has to come later. Hopefully nottoo muchlater, though. I’m not sure how long I can hold back from her.
“Thank you,” she gasps.
I stare at her for a few minutes, our eyes connecting as she gazes into mine. Warmth spreads through me, and I rock back and forth, unsure what to do with the swirling emotions inside me.
“You should sleep,” I say, rubbing my thumb over one of the vines that’s snaked its way over my shoulder. I’ve never had a human stay over before. Are there protocols for this kind of thing? Humans have specific ways of doing everything. All of them are a bit confusing. Most of the ones around here crawl into cocoons at night before they rest. Are those required? The only animals around here that do anything similar are the luna moths, but they make their own. Can Sadie make herself one?
“I am tired.” Her cheeks redden with the admission. I wish I could kiss them and the rest of her pale skin.
Sadie pulls her pack over to where she’s sitting on the ground and curls up around her bag. It takes me a moment to figure out that she’s using it to cradle her head. No mate of mine is sleeping on the floor.
“No,” I say. “In the bed.” Why she would even think I would make her sleep on the ground is beyond me. My bed is so much more comfortable. Plus, she’ll be next to me.
“I don’t want to take your bed,” she says.
“We can share.” I blurt the words out before I can think better of them. There’s more than enough space. I built it, hoping someday I’d have someone to share it with. Finally, aftermany years, it’s seeing its full use. It’s not big, though. At least not in the sense that it would allow either of us a great deal of personal space—that’s a plus for me, but I’m not sure how Sadie will feel.
My offer hangs heavy between us as she considers her options. “You’re sure?” she asks.
“Why would I mind? Sharing my bed with a beautiful woman is no hardship.” I’ll sleep better knowing she is next to me and safe. “Please.” I motion toward the bed. It’s not much, but it’s warm and comfortable.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
I run the conversation back a few times before I figure out her question. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Okay.”
Okay!
Sadie pushes herself up, first to her knees, then to her feet. As she walks over, she pauses a few times, looking around as though she’s lost something.
“How did you—” she starts. “Never mind.”
“You can ask me anything,” I say. “If I know the answer, I’ll tell you.” Or at least try to explain.
“How does the tree know what you want? Like when you went to get water?”
I let out a little laugh—that one I can handle. “The tree is a part of me. I’m able to control it. The trunk closes to keep me safe but opens whenever I command it.” I refrain from saying it’s forest magic, even though that’s the honest answer. So many mysteries can’t be distilled down to a few words.
“Oh,” she says, as though the answer had been obvious and in front of her the entire time.
“This tree,” I go on to explain, “is my home and my spirit. My life force is tethered to it. I can only venture so far away from the tree before it starts to hurt.” It’s the only reason I haven’tfollowed Sadie back to her cabin previously. It’s too far from my land. Instead, I’ve been stuck waiting for her to return to the edges of my territory.
Sometimes, when I miss her, I’d stick the edges when she was nearby. Even if I couldn’t see her, I could sense she was close. It helped scratch that itch until she returned to me.
Sadie doesn’t say anything; she simply crawls into bed and lets me pull the bear skin over her before slipping in beside her.
I watch as she slips into sleep—her eyes heavy, blinking and staying closed a little longer each time. Eventually, they stay that way. It’s easy to relax like this, listening to her rhythmic breathing, until I let myself drift off as well.
