Page 5 of Betrothed

Her emotions swirled around them, thick and sour. But Zax could hardly bring himself to care. He had not taken away something precious! There was nothing to be forgiven for!

“It gladdens me to hear that,” Zax said. Then he paused. “But then why did you try to stab me?”

Fawn shrugged. “It’s just what you do when someone takes something that is yours.”

Zax nodded sagely. “I agree. I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”

Fawn said nothing for several strides. Then she squirmed, looking around the dark forest. “Where are we going?”

“I have prepared a place for you,” Zax said happily.

“For me?” Fawn repeated.

Zax nodded, rubbing his claws over her knees. He would have to trim them—mortal skin was so delicate.

“For my wife,” he said. “Or my husband. I am not picky.”

“So, you prayed to your…” Fawn paused. “Skullstalker god… for a spouse?”

“Yes! And you came.” Zax fought the urge to hold her even closer. He could not squeeze her as much as he wanted when her ankle was injured. But when she healed, they would have all the time in the world. Especially after the ritual.

He came to a stop, staring up into the dark trees. “Here we are! You will need to hold on so I can climb.”

“Climb?”

“Do not look worried,” Zax assured her. “The place I have made is good for mortals, I promise.”

She gave him a wary look, her scent still an anxious blur. But she wound her arms around his neck, wincing as the movement shifted her injured leg.

Zax was oddly stunned by the touch. He had never been held like this before, he realized. All his touches were fleeting things from his brothers. Or, of course, mortals desperately trying to stop him from eating them.

He did try to kill them fast. Most of the time. Hunting was just so fun, and the days were so long.

He carried her up to the treehouse with one clawed hand digging into the bark, the other holding her close. As he crawled through a window, he considered other options.

“I will build a better way to get you up,” he decided as he landed on the wooden planks he had spent so long hammering together. “A ladder or—or something. Or if you wish, I will carry you up whenever you ask.”

Fawn did not respond. She was staring, open-mouthed, at the treehouse surrounding her: the wide walls, the high ceiling, the branches growing into it from the ceiling. Not to mention all the mortal things he had carried up here.

Zax grinned proudly. “Do you like it?”

Fawn blinked, startled. “I… I do. Will you let me down?”

Zax let her down on the floor. Only as she settled against the wood did he realize he really should have set her on the nest, which was tucked into a corner. But before he could rectify this, Fawn spoke again.

“Now we are home,” she said slowly, her scent still sour and sharp, “What will you do with me?”

Three

Fawn waited, heart in her throat.

Was she going to have to fuck this monster? He had been searching all this time for a spouse; surely he had an opinion on her wifely duties. Or husbandly duties, if he had found himself an unlucky man.

But Zax did not descend on her, as she feared. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was looking around the treehouse, which she doubted he had actually made. Skullstalkers were intelligent to be sure, but not enough to craft a house of this magnitude. There were support beams. Skullstalkers didn’t know how to nail wood, let alone know what support beams were.

“Huh?” Zax said, his glowing purple eye snapping back to her. “Oh. I will have this.”

He picked her up again and carried her over to what Fawn could only call a nest: huger and softer than any birds’ nest she had seen, lined with fur and possibly even feathers.