The look on his face had nearly crushed me before Tryk had interrupted us.
But that answer he was searching for had stayed put on my tongue, like someone had superglued it there, never to move an inch.
It’s not that I can’t get past the thought of never having that definitive proof that Zyn was meant for me, that we are the only ones for each other, as deigned by some higher power, or nature itself. Relationships back on Earth were certainly never that clear-cut.
Which is probably why I shied away from them.
It’s just… I saw them that first time. I swear, I saw them burn bright, directly over his heart, like a big neon sign shouting my name, saying,‘Bea! Bea! This is what’s right for you. This is correct. He is yours and always will be. You can’t mess this up.’
But they haven’t been lit up that brightly ever since.
They could do. I know he has a lot of scarring, but I know what I saw that time after my panic attack. His stars are capable of showing themselves over his heart, and the voices in my head scream at me to wait. Don’t rush into anything you can’t fix.
And it would be awfully hard to fix two broken hearts.
So, as hard as it was to see that big guy so open, vulnerable and just begging for me to leap off a mountain into this with him, I still think we can make those stars appear. I think we can make that man’s heart light up like the fourth of July.
Sitting up, I stretch out the last of my sleepiness, hoping beyond hope that I can explain all of that to Zyntarr in a way that doesn’t make him look at me the same way he had last night.
The light outside is still fresh and not yet overly bright or stained golden. Which means it’s still early, with only one of this planet’s suns having risen. Yawning, I push my hair back from my face, only for my fingers to brush against something tucked behind my ear. I pull it out to examine it; a feather. It’s not the same as the downy ones that line Zyntarr’s nest. This one is long, with a firmer hold. A flight feather. He had come back to me last night, then, and left this for me before I woke.
Smiling to myself, I stroke my pointer finger through the onyx barbs of his feather, watching how even though it’s not attached to him any longer, the stars still react to my touch, burning a bright aqua blue and neon pink.
“I had hoped to sneak back into our nest without waking you.”
The voice was like hot coco on a bitterly cold day, and I can’t help but brighten when I look up to see Zyn standing in the entrance to his hut. “Why did you leave in the first place?”
His smile is soft as he steps inside. “I need to keep my mate fed.” He is carrying another platter of food for me.
I scoot back on the nest. “You don’t have to-”
My words are cut short by Zyntarr holding up a hand, a single thick finger raised to object. “Please,” he rumbles, his voice low as he shakes his head. “Do not deny me this pleasure.”
I blink up at him for a moment or two, shaking my own head now. This huge, scarred, mountain of a man is built for violenceand brute strength. But where he really excels is in kindness and caring. He likes to look after people. And sure, a huge part of me wants to be able to purr just like he does at the thought that he likes to look aftermein particular.
So, with a raised brow, I jerk my head to the space where he can sit and feed me if he likes. I don’t think there’s much I could deny this man, anyway.
Once he sits, I find myself crawling into his lap like I’m coming home. His wings and arm wrap around me as if they were sturdy brick walls to keep me safe and warm. Before he has a chance to start feeding me from the food platter, words spill out of my mouth like a hotspring, “you kept the eye patch off.”
It was just an observation, but one I had noticed straight away.
Zyntarr looks at me, one eye unseeing, the other as blue as the prettiest oceans, before he simply answers, “you did not flinch.”
“I don’t think I could ever flinch away from you, Zyntarr.”
It’s the truth. I don’t ever remember feeling safer than when I’m with him.
Zyntarr’s gaze drifts away from my eyes, falling down a lazy path to end at the destination of my lips, where it lingers. And, even in that milk-white eye - the one clouded over and unseeing - I swear there is something in it that matches the spark in its twin.
He stays absolutely still as I do the only thing that I think is right at that time - I lean forward and kiss him.
It starts off as a little peck, and then another, and another, but then Zyntarr groans in that warm, delicious way, his strong arms surrounding me and pulling me close. I think the plate of food he’d brought falls to the ground - there’s a clattering noise coming from somewhere, at least. And Zyntarr is forced to lean back as I readjust myself to straddle his enormous thighs. “Idon’t want any part of you covered,” I murmur between presses of our lips.
Zyn’s answering rumbling chuckle is like slow molasses. “I do not think my fellow tribesmales would appreciate me having my cock on display for them all day,” he says, pulling away ever so slightly, but keeping so close, we’re sharing breaths. “Especially when my size may make them feel small in comparison.”
I lightly slap at his chest before giggling myself.
It’s true, though.
