When we finally collapse together in the soft grass beside the stream, I'm sprawled across her chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her breathing beneath me. Her arms are wrapped around me protectively, and I can hear her heartbeat gradually slowing back to normal.
For a long moment, we just lie there in comfortable silence, surrounded by the light trickle of running water and the rustle of autumn leaves falling all around us.
Then I push myself up on my elbows so I can look down at her face.
"Now," I say firmly, "promise me you'll never try to leave me again."
Her eyes widen slightly at my tone. "Maris?—"
"Promise me," I repeat, more forcefully this time. "Promise me we figure this out together, whatever comes.”
“But—”
“No!No more noble sacrifices, no more running away toprotectme. We're stronger together, Gray. We proved that today in the forest."
She studies my face for a long moment, eyes searching mine in earnest, and I can see her weighing her words carefully.
"I can't promise nothing bad will happen," she says finally. "I can't promise I'll be able to keep you safe from everything."
"I'm not asking you to," I reply. "I'm asking you to promise you won't abandon me. That you won't make that choice for both of us."
“Maris,” she whispers.
I can feel the burn of tears I’m unwilling to shed. I can’t live this life without her.
I won’t.
“I—” Her hands come up to frame my face, and when she tries to speak again, her voice is thick with emotion. "I promise."
The breath I’d been holding rushes out of me in relief.
She runs one single claw through a strand of hair that’s fallen and loops it behind my ear before whispering, "No matter what happens, we face it together."
I lean down to seal the promise with a kiss, and for the first time since I woke up alone this morning, the tight knot of fear in my chest finally loosens. It unravels itself one piece at a time and I can finally breathe without restriction.
Whatever comes next, we'll handle it. Together.
And we’ll make those men pay.
CHAPTER 18
Gray
I swear,the universe waits until everything seems to be going fine to throw another stick at my head.
In this case, almost literally. Maris is up ahead of me, happily chattering away, and doesn’t realize that I’m not as close to her as she thought I was. The stick she was holding flings back in my direction, snapping me in the muzzle so hard my eyes water, and I fight down a whine. It’s not her fault. I’m far larger, with longer legs, and therefore entirely capable of keeping up with her if I really try.
But I’ve noticed how skittish she is since the attack, how attuned she is to the sounds around us, and I’ve been doing my best to give her room to breathe. Sometimes it seems like she needs to be alone, but of course I can’t allow that after last time.
Instead, I give her as much room as I can, always in eye and ear shot, before I bound back up to catch her. It’s been working well enough thus far, with Maris happily chattering away while she picks the last of the mushrooms and berries and tucks them into her skirts.
But it’s my fault I caught a branch to the face. I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I wrinkle my muzzle, scratching lightly with one of my claws to ensure that I’m not bleeding.
Maris doesn’t even notice; she’s still happily talking, pointing up at the nests in the trees and wondering about whether the birds will come back to them once winter is over or if they will have to start all over.
Her head turns, gaze wistful, and I follow her eyes.
Her human eyes.
