The past few weeks have flown by, each one going over smoother than the last. We settle into a routine, and while my mate’s purpose here is to become heavy with our child, I haven’t touched her in that way again. Much to her apparent displeasure. We wake, weather permitting, she joins me to check on the Sihlih who bed down heavily during this time and require little tending unless they are needed for something. We spend our long nights and heavy evenings doing whatever odd exercises she insists I do.
For the most part, I play along because it seems to please her. My strange, pretty female chews her lip, taking the notes she safeguards as furiously as a Thraxis mother with her cub. I haven’t asked, but it takes no great mind to figure out it regards the affliction in my mind. As much as her constant vigilance of it shames me, whatever she’s doing seems to ease the worries that plagued her. So, I swallow what little pride I have left and breathe deeply; I count to ten and pay attention to each of my senses until the red fades and the world comes back into order.
I draw the line when she asks me to talk about it. The years I fought are a plague I refuse to spew onto her mind. I cannot bear the look in her eyes when she hears of the things I’ve done. When she’s finished with her notes and questions, games and stories, I decline her offer to share our bed and wait on the couch. Ruddy, aching cock gripped in hand until her breathing evens out and I slip in beside her, getting restful sleep that’s evaded me for years.
I’m gone before she wakes.
But she knows I was there.
The night I found her curled up on the floor beside me, I’d woken so violently I’d gored the couch with a horn. The world came back into focus slowly, keeping me half trapped in the nightmare.
I’d nearly put a hoof through her skull.
Not for the first time, I wonder if this is what my predecessors felt before they were put out of their misery. I wonder how much worse it’ll get before it’s my time to wander. I must admit, while her odd methods and tests make me feel no larger than a kit, they aren’t without merit. How much good could these… calming exercises do for the next male lost to his mind?
Would they even try?
No.
I wouldn’t, not if it were anyone but her requesting it of me.
A sudden flurry of activity snaps my attention to Valoryx, and more importantly, my mate lounging lazily against him. Her small frame tucks into his curl, the beast’s tail wrapped around in front of her like a gate. She can’t care less, her legs draped over the thicker, spike free base. A thick batch of furs protecting her from the snow, even though she insists she doesn’t need them every time I pack her a bag, they’re always used.
Their heads pop up in unison, watching as a younger Sihlih takes off after a Zylari, a small, agile animal with pure white fur and long, fluffy ears, making it near impossible to spot in the snow. Well, until the Sihlih swipes it, sending it flying, its blood erupting onto its fur, highlighting its trail where it skids to a stop. The thing makes a pitiful cry of desperation, but my attention is on the blood, locked there for a moment, red dotting my vision until my gaze shifts to something else, like she taught me. Sight. I focus on the technique the beast uses as it stalks the animal, and how I can improve it. It’s not until the red parts and a flash of long brown hair catch my attention that my mind returns to me. Immediately, my heart slams into my throat.
Lenora is sprinting for the tiny animal, her upturned hazel eyes blown wide in panic. I bellow out a command to stop, but he’s young, willful yet. I start for her. What she doesn’t see is the large Sihlih lowered to the ground, its powerful muscles tense, ready to attack. And it does. The world slows to a panic induced crawl as it lunges. I command Valoryx to stop him because he’s far ahead of me. My mount slams into the side of the younger Sihlih, not a second too soon. A deep agonized sound of relief rips from my throat as my eyes find my bloody and unharmed mate, clutching the Zylari to her chest as if she meant to shield the fucking thing with her outstretched arm.
The rage that follows that concept will not be quelled with calming exercises. I’m on her in seconds, bellowing at her sprawled form in the snow. Her shell shocked, confused expression makes me realize belatedly I’ve spoken in my native language. “What in Valhyr’s name were you thinking!? Vyr’ash! Ridiculous, maddening female! You were almost killed! Lenora, if the war madness doesn’t do me in by Valhyr’s name, it will be you!”
She flinches at that, tears well in her eyes. I hate the sight of them. I let loose a bellowing roar, fisting my hands in my hair as I stalk my vision red. Struggling, trying to reclaim an inch of control. My roar only serves to make the Zylari cry out in her arms, and I watch those tears in my mate’s eyes, the hurt turns to anger.
My tiny, foolish, brave mate gets up. Readjusting the bloody, pained animal in the crook of her arm like a kit, making sure it’s as comfortable as it can be before she turns that anger on me. “What am I doing!? I’m trying to keep this poor baby from being mauled to death by one of your ill-trained lion lizards!”
I only growl in response, watching as Valoryx doles out his own justice against the younger Sihlih. They are a hardy mount. He will be okay, but it will take a great deal of healing to get there. I don’t dare undermine my mount in front of the herd, knowing this is his domain. “It is a food animal! What do you think they eat?!”
“I- I don’t care! I wasn’t going to sit back and watch it happen! It needed my help!”
“It did not need your help! It needed you to let nature take its course. It needed you to let it die instead of forcing it to wallow in agony, the illusion of life dangling before its eyes! Is this what you think mercy is?! You are showing it none! It’s useless, Lenora!”
Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I know I’ve said something wrong, that perhaps in my anger, I’d forgotten we were fighting about the Zylari.
I think she forgot too.
My mate drags a shuddering, ragged breath through her lungs before she screams.
Truly screams, as if she’s determined to match my roar.
I watch as she lowers herself as quickly as she can to the ground, gently laying down the wounded animal before she’s picking up fistfuls of snow and throwing them at me. Sobs wracking her chest. “You stupid fucking male! It’s not useless! Don’t fucking say that! You’re horrible for saying that!” She lobs the loose snow as I rear back, the red from my vision snapping out of existence as a deep well of guilt takes its place. “That’s what he said! He said it was useless to try! It’s not! You- you can’t just stop trying! What about me, huh? What happens to the rest of us? Did you even think about what would happen to me if you stopped trying?! You fucking— fucking horn sporting asshole! What do you think I’m doing all this shit for? I’m trying to help you! And it’s useless! Oh-fucking-kay then!”
I’m panting, deathly silent, my eyes wide as she gives the small animal another pained glance, sobbing as she picks herself up out of the snow. Her entire body is trembling as she calls for Valoryx. My head snaps to my mount, nearly as baffled as I am with my mate when he stops his attack and bounds to her. He doesn’t give the wounded Zylari a single glance. The lying bral’qorn would’ve eaten it in a single gulp any other time.
“Lenora…” I start as Valoryx lowers for her, sensing she wouldn’t want my help. He shifts the base of his tail so she can use it as a step. “Don’t,” I warn, but the daggers she shoots me as she clambers up my stolen, traitorous mount tell me that was the wrong thing to do as well.
“Don’t let it suffer.” She spits back, before they take off toward the house.
I’m left there, staring at the place they left, my mind reeling. Wondering how in Valhyr’s name everything went so wrong so fast and who let my mate down so terribly before me?
