“As soon as you’re feeling up to it, we can do it again, Saelûn, but you need rest.” I gather her closer, shifting us both until we’re lying on our sides on a dry patch of moss, facing each other. “Come here, rhûla’ne. Let me hold you.”
She curls into my chest, and I wrap my body around her protectively
“Lumi,” I whisper. “Your belly?—”
“Hmm?” She whispers sleepily.
“There’s a mark.” My fingers hover over her skin. “Right here.”
She blinks, trying to look down. “What kind of mark?”
I trace the edges. The mark glows softly against her skin, iridescent pale-blue pulsing with gentle light, right over her womb.
“I don’t know,” I breathe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She props herself up on her elbow to see it better, and her breath catches. “Oh. That’s... beautiful.”
“It is.” My hand hovers over the glowing mark, in awe. “It appeared after we—after I?—”
I can’t finish the thought. My throat is too tight.
The mark pulses gently beneath my palm, right where I pressed my hand.
“Do you know what it is?” she asks, worry seeping into her words.
“I think—” I swallow hard. “There's an old legend about a mark called Solvris, but it's just a story... a myth. No rhavari has ever actually seen one.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don't conceive.” My voice cracks. “We never have. The mark is said to be a blessing from the forest. I think it's just a tale one of the first, lonely rhavaris told to give our people some comfort.”
I press my palm gently against the glowing mark.
“Maybe it's just the bond,” I murmur, trying to keep hope from creeping into my voice, but even as I say it, something in my chest flutters with possibility.
She touches the mark. “It's cold.”
“Is it?” I press closer, but I can't tell the difference between my skin and it. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it just tingles, but it’s a comforting tingle.”
We both stare at the mysterious mark until I feel warmth against my own chest, which is strange, because I'm never warm.
I glance down to see a black stripe running down the center of my pale chest. The exact color of rhûven’s pelt.
“Lumi,” I breathe. “I have one too.”
Her eyes widen, “Holy shit! You have a skunk stripe! Or... the reverse, actually.”
I touch it, and warmth radiates from the mark, sinking into my skin. A sacred heat not of the gods, but of her.
“I carry you now,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over the dark stripe. “Your warmth. Your bond. Even when you're not touching me... I'll feel it here.”
She presses her cheek against the mark and snuggles into my chest.
“We're matching now,” she mumbles, already drifting off.
“We are.” I tighten my arms around her, one hand splaying protectively over the glowing mark on her belly. “Sleep, Lumi. I've got you.”
