Page 4 of Betrothed

“It’s my ankle,” said the mortal after a moment. “I don’t think I can walk on it.”

Zax dropped his hand and sat back, his tail waving in excitement. “I can help! Here, let me.”

He scooped her up in his arms. The mortal went stiff, and her pained scent flooded with strong undertones of primal fear and… anger?

“You are cross with me,” said Zax with a frown. “It is not my fault the gods dropped you when they gave you to me.”

The mortal gave him another confused look. Her tearful gaze made something spark in the back of Zax’s head.

“You look familiar,” he realized. “Have we met?”

He hoped not. He had very few good meetings with mortals.

The mortal fixed her angry gaze on him. “You ate my husband.”

That did not narrow it down much. Zax thought back to the mortal men he had eaten recently. He did not hunger often, but he did enjoy hunting for fun. There was the man bathing in the river, and of course, the man who was in the middle of peeing, and…

Suddenly, he remembered. It was the Circle man, the one who poked him with sticks when he was chained up with malblossom. Zax had been all too happy to eat him. Fawn must have been the one who tried to stab him afterward. He remembered looking back at his brother and asking, Can I keep her?

“It is strange the Titan would send you,” Zax said.

“Titan?”

“Our gods,” Zax explained.

Fawn stared up at him, her chest heaving as she clutched her injured leg protectively. “Skullstalkers don’t have gods.”

“That’s what my brothers say,” Zax sighed. “Even the one who lives in a Titan-mountain, residing in its bones!”

He pointed up at the Anderfel mountains in the distance, barely visible through the trees. He had made the trek several times, asking for assistance in finding a companion. And every time he was turned away. Still, Zax got the feeling that the ancient Skullstalker would have helped if he could.

“I wanted to believe,” Zax continued. “But I was beginning to lose hope. Then you showed up! I am glad you were dropped, and that you did not run.”

“Because you would have chased,” Fawn said quietly.

Zax thought back once more to her screams as he ripped into her husband’s throat. She must have loved him very much. He had a lot to make up for.

“I will not hurt you,” he stressed. “Even if you run. I am sorry I took away something so cherished, but I vow to make it up to you. I will be the best husband you could wish for.”

Fawn blinked up at him, dazed. Her scent blurred with a thousand conflicting emotions, but Zax did not care. The gods had gifted him a wife. She was confused and in pain, but he would take care of that. He would take care of her. Soon, she would not miss the husband he had killed. Anyhow, she deserved better than a mortal who would poke a trapped Skullstalker with sticks.

She shifted in his arms and hissed again, her scent getting drowned out by the overwhelming wave of fresh pain.

“I will fix you,” Zax declared triumphantly. He set off through the trees, careful not to jostle her leg. “What does it take to fix a human? When I am injured, I need food and sleep and somewhere clean to rest.”

He rolled his aching shoulders. The scars there were deep, the malblossom scoring him down to the muscle. The rest were tolerable enough after weeks of healing. He was mostly bothered by his scarred eye, which made him rely on scent more than ever before.

His brothers said he looked battle-worn. Which was embarrassing, since every scar was from getting ambushed and captured by a group of mortals. Mortals who had magic, but still.

He was glad he had gotten everything ready for his spouse before the attack. It would have been much harder, otherwise.

“Me too,” Fawn said quietly.

They walked in silence for several moments. Fawn twisted, looking around the dark forest. Then she said, “He wasn’t cherished.”

Zax chirped questioningly. Fawn startled, as if surprised to hear that noise come out of him.

“My husband,” she continued after a second. “He wasn’t a good man. He was… cruel. And stifling. And he did not understand me. I am glad you killed him.”