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A human has never been mated to one such as me.
Ever.
I don’t even know if Chroma will spark to life between us.
Perhaps that’s the first step. I need to get close to her, see if there’s even Chroma between us. Confirm that she’s my mate and not some girl I saw on the street and had a vivid dream about.
I know it was real, though. I felt the Chroma pulsing in that dream, like a child cupping a treasured pill bug in his hands while he proudly runs it to his mother.
First, I’ll just watch her. Observe her behaviors from a distance to give myself time to think and maybe learn something useful to help me decide how to convince her to leave with me.
The next day, the woman doesn’t emerge from that building once. I panic, thinking I have missed her somehow. So I followed another resident inside and listened again at her door. She was still there puttering around, albeit quietly. No drunken phone calls and intense screaming. Just baby-talking what I realize is a cat.
Slowly, I come to realize that my mate is strange.
Even among humans.
The rest of the week, she just went from home to work and back again. It wasn’t until early Saturday morning that she broke this pattern.
She emerges, looking refreshed as I watch her from afar. Her gait is lighter somehow, her back straight. Her tight black pants shape her curves nicely as her ponytail bobs behind her. The further she walks through the early morning sun, the lighter her step seems.Is she exercising? Is that what this is?
Suddenly, an unease settles inside me, my instincts scream at me that something is wrong. I scan the area, looking for threats or danger, but nothing seems amiss as she strolls down the sidewalk. Saturday morning and the sun is barely above the horizon. Almost no cars or even other pedestrians are around. And yet…
Still, I trust my gut in this. I take a deep breath, deciding as an usually powerful gust of wind seems to urge me forward as she approaches a crosswalk.
I act. My feet carry me towards her. My fae legs are fast, faster than the wind itself. She stops at a crosswalk waiting for the light as the same strong wind snaps a large tree branch from an old oak tree overhead.
It plummets towards her as she looks up at the loud cracking sound.
Before it falls, I pummel into her, knocking us both to the ground in a tumbling tangle of limbs. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, but I hold her tight to my chest as we continue to roll across the pavement.
We lay in the street’s intersection, panting. I’m on top of her when we finally come to a halt, crushing her fragile human body under my weight. Her wide eyes stare into mine, mouth ajar as if in a silent scream.
For a moment, we are locked in a quiet, breathless embrace. The warmth from her body radiates into every inch of mine. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, and there a single thread of Chroma trickles into my fingers. It really is her. I’m frozen, staring at her as the power slithers up my arm.
A car horn sounds as I pull away, ushering us both back to the safety of the sidewalk.
“Are you alright?” I ask, looking her over for signs of injury.
She blinks once. Twice. And finally nods.
I grab her chin to check for signs of concussion in her hazel eyes. Sluggish and dazed.
My Chroma stirs, awakening at her nearness. Her touch. A surge of energy pulses through my body. It’s different from any other time I’ve held Chroma before. Stronger, more intense. My heart pounds, breathing quickens. I’m alive again. The world has color, aromas.. Meaning. Desperately, I fight the urge to channel just to see the beautiful green hues dancing against the bright blue sky.
“How did you… “ she starts, but stopped when she peers into my gaze. The world briefly melts away around us again, but this time, Chromatic energy courses through my veins. The world feels brighter and more vibrant.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I just reacted.”
I shift my weight, not wanting to look away.
“Thank you… “ she drags out the word as if prompting me.
“You can call me Sunder.”
“Sunder,” she says, as if tasting it slowly, rolling it around her mouth. Her eyes glaze over slightly, looking me up and down, focusing on my long black hair and leather boots. Absently, she comments, “You must really like hair metal.”
Confused, I furrow my eyebrows slightly.What kind of metal has hairs?Yes, it’s clear that she is slightly concussed…
