Skidding to a stop behind a row of cabins, Maeve peered down the slope at the forest. It was obvious where Soren hadbeen working, all the brush and brambles cleared into a neat, thorny pile. However, there wasn’t a manticore in sight; just a few squirrels and birds exploring the newly cleared land.
Groaning in frustration, Maeve caught another path that took her down toward the schoolhouse. She looked everywhere—in the classrooms, behind the shed, under the building. She didn’t find him anywhere.
Desperation clutched her tight, keeping her chest from expanding to get a full breath. On the verge of tears, Maeve couldn’t think of anything to do but run in the direction of home. Sorcha would know where to find Imogen, and Imogen might know where Soren hid.
It wasn’t a good plan, but it was her only one, and so Maeve started out, dust kicked up behind her.
She followed the path south toward her family estate, a path she knew so well by now. That was where she and Soren had first kissed, there’s where he’d shown her histuruk, and over there was where she’d first given him—
A great shadow passed overhead, zipping by in a dark blur. There wasn’t time to look up, but Maeve couldn’t help a shiver thinking what size of bird could cast such a shadow.
By the time she heard the flap of great wings, it was too late.
Arms closed around her, her feet left the ground, and she went tumbling into the grass.
25
It was the most important and most inelegant landing of Soren’s life. He realized he’d miscalculated his angle and her speed too late, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer to scoop her up. Soren took the brunt of the crash, rolling Maeve above him as they skidded through tall grass and underbrush.
When they finally came to a stop, Soren was missing a few feathers and chunks of mane, and he was pretty sure his shirt had been torn somewhere—but none of that mattered.
Ibás, he hadn’t a plan better thanget to Maeve. He’d had vague ideas of needing to hear her side, if there was a chance she could feel for him even a fraction of what he did for her. That need was nearly as wild as histuruk, eager to find her, love her, lick her head to toe to convince her to let him stay beside her.
Soren could hardly believe it himself, his thoughts a jumbled mess except for his need to be with her.
As the dust settled, a relieved breath puffed out of him, his wings collapsing on either side of them in the grass. A mad laugh escaped him next, and her head popped up from his chest at thesound.
“Soren!” she shrieked.
Clambering up his body, not caring where her knees went or what they dug into, Maeve planted her hands on his shoulders, holding him down to stare wild-eyed at him.
Kud, the giddy relief of finding her quickly subsided in the face of her shocked expression. Pupils blown wide, locks of red-gold hair hanging in dusty, sweaty tangles, her body shaking, Maeve was the most disheveled he’d ever seen her. Even after a night of lovemaking, she hadn’t looked half so rumpled.
Lifting his hands, he took hold of her waist to steady her. He felt how she trembled beneath his paws, and a plaintive purr sputtered in his chest.
“Sa-set, urisá,I have you now,” he soothed.
Although her shoulders still heaved, her chest expanding to pull in great gulps of air, something in her eyes shifted. As though seeing him for the first time, she yelped, “Fates, Soren!” and threw herself into his arms.
Maeve nuzzled his throat, as if she could bore into him to find the source of his purring. Soren held her tight, soothing himself with gentle kisses to her head. Her hair was indeed wild, but still smelled of her, and he wouldn’t waste an opportunity.
“I just came from the cabin, I went all over looking for you, I’ve been trying to find you,” she babbled.
Pushing her hair back from her face, Soren purred, “I’ve been looking for you, too,kigara.”
My whole life, I’ve been looking and waiting for you.
Maeve jolted up again at the word. So close, he saw that it wasn’t just beads of sweat running down her face but tears, too.
“No,” he groaned, “you mustn’t cry. I can’t bear it.”
She shook her head vehemently, pressing into his hand. “You still think I’m yourkigara?”
“I know you are,” he said, his heart soaring high to say it.Ibás, what a joy it was just to admit it, to hold her to him and tell her, “You are mykigara, Maeve. The day we met, you werekigara. All the days since, you werekigara. Today, you arekigara. And tomorrow…”
“Even though—” Maeve sat up, wiping at her leaking eyes. Soren followed her, wrapping her loosely in his arms to help wipe away the tears. “—that letter,” she finally choked out. “I didn’t know about the offers until last night. I swear it, Soren, I promise I didn’t know—I wouldn’t do that to you—I wouldn’t—”
“Shh, shh,” he soothed, “I know you wouldn’t,urisá.”
