Page 9 of Betrothed

Wife. He would never get tired of the word. It was made of magic. And soon they would make it official, with his Anderfel brother’s spells linking them together.

Zax looked out of one of the many windows he had fixed into the treehouse, complete with something that his brother Wick called “curtains.” According to Wick, they were not affixed very well to the window. But Zax would learn. He would learn anything for his new wife, who was used to walls and warmth and washing in a tub.

Fawn’s head was pillowed on his stomach. She smelled better like this, no sour fear in sleep. Then she shifted, and her contented smell flooded with pain.

Her ankle was even worse than last night. If Zax had hurt his foot, it would have healed overnight unless there was a bone sticking out of the skin. But mortals were so fragile.

He pressed a small, hesitant kiss to Fawn’s forehead. Then he left her in his nest and headed down into the forest to make her a satisfying breakfast.

First, he killed a deer. Then he gathered several handfuls of berries, slipping them into pockets he had sewn into his loincloth and silently congratulating himself for learning how to sew, but also regretting that he had killed the deer before gathering berries. It was difficult with the dead deer hanging over his shoulder.

On the walk back, Zax contemplated the mysterious art of baking bread. He only ate bread when he visited his brothers, who dabbled in that sort of thing. Zax’s only attempt at baking had turned out hard and unpleasant, but he had been meaning to try again. That meant he needed ingredients, which meant he had to find a town and steal their supplies, and then figure out how to build a firepit⁠—

A distant voice stopped that thought in its tracks.

“She wouldn’t run away,” a man snapped. “Do you hear yourself? It’s Fawn. She has as much spine as a piece of thread.”

Fawn. This man was talking about Zax’s new wife. And talking badly about her, no less. Unless Zax was misunderstanding their mortal sayings, which was entirely possible, as he spent very little time around them.

Zax stalked silently toward the voice, which was soon joined by an old woman.

“People will do strange things when they’re desperate,” the old woman said. “And don’t snap at me, Errol.”

The mortals came into view. Zax crouched behind a tree to watch. They had the same blonde hair, the same wide jaw, and identical expressions of displeasure. They were walking fast through the woods with large packs strapped to their backs.

“Then don’t say stupid things,” the man, Errol, said. “Trust me, she did not run. She might have taken some time to get used to it, but she’s a sensible girl. She understands that now my brother is dead, I am her best option as a husband.”

Zax’s claws dug into the deer corpse hanging over his shoulder. This rude, sneering wretch was her dead husband’s brother? And he was trying to get her to marry him? Fawn had been given to him by the Titan gods. She was his.

But… why hadn’t Fawn mentioned them? Zax frowned as he watched the mortals stalk through the woods. Did she not trust him enough to tell him? She was still scared of him. Maybe she was waiting to bring it up.

Whatever the reason, Fawn was better off with Zax. He would give her the world, and he would not compare her spine to a piece of thread. Zax was almost certain it was an insult. Spines were meant to be strong. Even mortal ones.

“Which means she has been taken,” Errol spat. “Kidnapped by those hunters whom we met, or some ruffians prowling these woods!”

The old woman huffed resentfully. “Or she went after that Skullstalker.”

Errol stopped to glare at her. “What?”

“You said she showed you a footprint. Maybe she went after it.”

“To do what?” Errol snapped as Zax looked down at his clawed feet, which were leaving prints in the dirt. “No, she has been taken, or she is lying somewhere hurt, waiting for us to save her. We must find her and bring her home. It’s what Renly would have wanted. For me to live a long life with her. If he can’t have her, then it falls to me.”

The old woman hummed. She did not look entirely convinced. But when Errol began to walk again, she followed close behind.

Zax waited until they were out of earshot and then set off through the forest, head reeling. He had hardly considered what life she must have come from. She hadn’t fallen out of the sky fully formed; of course, she had a past. But she said she was drawn to him. That her husband was cruel. It made sense that her husband’s family would be cruel, too, and she would want nothing to do with them. And if she did want to go back with them…

Well, then all he had to do was change her mind. Until then, he must keep them away from her.

He would make her happy, he told himself as he skinned the deer with his sharp claws and took out the pieces of the animal that mortals did not like to eat. By the time her ankle healed enough for them to journey to his Anderfel brother, there would be no more fear in her scent. She would have no reason to want to return to her uncaring family—if she ever did.

He would make sure of it. And the first step was a good breakfast.

Roasting the deer leg only made Zax more aware of how much work mortals had to do. If he had to cook meat every time he ate it, he would invent something easier than a campfire, too. But for now, it was all he had.

He took the steaming deer leg and the berries and climbed the tree. He came through the window and found Fawn with her coat around her shoulders, sitting next to the books he had stacked in the corner. She startled as he climbed through the window, dropping her book.

“Hello,” Zax said. He was bursting to ask her about Errol and his mother, but he managed to keep himself silent. If she knew they were looking for her, she might ask him to bring her back. Then he would have to keep her against her will until she realized how happy she could be with him. He did not want to do that. Better to assume she never wanted to see her husband’s family again and let her bring it up if she truly did want to see them.