Chapter 276: Cold Home
RETH - Anima
It hadn't crossed his mind since he'd entered Aymora's cave, but of course Behryn had set guards on him. As soon as he stepped foot out of the cave mouth that evening, they were there, one beside and another behind him. No doubt there were more hidden along the trail to watch from a distance. Behryn knew he hated being shadowed all the time. But he also knew it was necessary when they were at war.
So Reth greeted those he could see quietly, but kept his eyes away from theirs, and let himself look pensive, as if he were working through a problem. He prayed they wouldn't decide to get chatty.
That prayer, at least, was answered.
But walking through the Tree City, he heard the voices in the market and remembered what Aymora had said about some people being housed there when they ran out of rooms, so with gritted teeth, he forced himself to detour to the market, where he spent an hour greeting his people, smiling, clapping the shoulders of the males, and giving winks to the children, and earnest, confident looks to their mothers.
By the time he was done, he felt so wrung out he almost turned back to go stay with Aymora. But no. Even though it was going to hurt, he wanted to be in the cave, with Elia's scent. With her things.
A great chasm opened in his chest then and his breath caught.
One of the guards looked at him, but he kept himself focused on the trail and strode as quickly as he could through the trees.
The walk seemed to take forever, but finally he made it to the Meadow and then the cave.
He was a coward and held his breath when he first stepped inside, allowing the guards the space and freedom to walk through the cave to check the quarters and connect with the bathing pool guards. Ever since Jak, everyone was paranoid about that.
Breathing in was hell, but he couldn't avoid it before the guards left, so he put himself behind them and faced the other way as he braced for the impact and took a long, slow breath of Elia's scent.
His entire body shuddered.
He made some kind of small talk with them as they checked throughout the cave, but he couldn't even remember what he'd said.
When the guards finally walked out to take their positions outside the cave mouth, Reth followed them, closed and barred the door behind them, then hesitated… but he knew he still wasn't truly alone.
He stood for a moment, staring at the barred door, smelling her, remembering the first time he'd used that lock for Elia. The way she'd looked at him in the lantern light, beginning to find her confidence. And when he'd given the mating call, the heat in her eyes had flared.
"I do like it when you make that noise," she'd said breathlessly, and when he did it again and she'd shivered. "It's like you're calling something out of me."
"It's the mating call," he'd said, his voice even deeper than usual. "It says you're mine, and I want you."
The call erupted out of him again at the memory, but there was no response, no answering intake of breath, no ripple of her under his hand.
Reth slumped.
He'd made her a promise that night. "Tell me what to do," he'd rasped. "Anything. I'll do it." He hadn't meant only in the mating. She'd owned him, heart and soul, even then.
He groaned and rubbed his face, forcing himself to turn and start through the cave. But his eyes landed on the bench where she'd thrown the sheepskin and demanded that he take her from behind. And the cabinet where he'd almost taken her against the wall the first time. And the kitchen where she'd smiled and kissed him when the elders weren't looking. And the table where he'd held her hand while they told her about this trip and…
She was everywhere.
Swallowing hard, he turned for the bedchamber, thoughtlessly. He needed to escape to a room where no one would disturb him, but as soon as he rounded the corner and opened the door, her scent—warm and musky from the bed furs—hit him like a wave crashing over a stormy shore.
He stopped abruptly. His stupid, stupid heart, waiting, adrenalin pumping, for her to be there, to call his name, to soothe him… But there was only her scent.
Intending to flee, he turned—only to come face to face with that place he'd pressed her that night he'd told her she had to leave. And instead of turning away as he should, he huffed the mating call again and dropped his forehead against the cold cave wall and inhaled, finding every trace of his love still left there, his head spinning with flashes of the memories of her.
Her hands in his hair, the taste of her skin on his tongue, her love as she held him against her stomach—against their child.
He'd vowed to her that night, too—one he'd meant with his whole soul.
"My Kingdom, my body, my life… My last breath for yours. The very last drop of my blood, so that yours might not be spilled. If ever I should… should leave you, if ever you should lose me… I will call down the Creator Himself to protect you and watch over our child."
Everything in him swelled as all the memories of all their sacred whispers twisted together, echoing through him with her scent.
Mine.
Even to death…
That word slammed into his chest like a blow.
Reth shoved off the wall as a cry tore out of his throat that he recognized for the same tortured groan his father had made the day he'd almost been lost over the edge of a cliff when he was barely fourteen. He swallowed and huffed and clawed his hands through his hair, pacing the space at the end of the sleeping platform, but he couldn't get free of it. Fear, guilt, shame, hope… it all twisted, knotted inside him, threatening to climb his throat and suffocate him.
The ache of not knowing, of having to leave them in the hands of others that couldn't possibly love them as much, at not being able to gather them both close and hold himself between them and the world that was trying to kill them… it was going to drive him insane.
Gulping air, vision blurred, and throat pinching, he turned for the door, he had to get out!
Then he stopped.
When he'd walked in, he'd swung the door mostly closed behind him.
And now he could see… There was a piece of paper pinned to it, with his name on it, written in Elia's hand.
Chest rumbling with grief, he stepped slowly to the door and lifted a shaking hand to tug at the paper until it came free in his hand. Then he backed up to the sleeping platform and let himself sink onto it, pulling the paper to his nose and inhaling her.
His love.
His mate.
His Elia.
And then, before he'd even opened it, he wept.
*****
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