Page 54 of Sunder

The creek that twined through the garden made a gentle trickling sound. Soothing. There were insects that flittered about the greenery, a larger hum coming from a box in the far corner. There was yet another building, too small to act as a home, but it must serve a purpose. Isn’t that what Mama often said? Other people lacked the funds for something just to be pretty for the sake of it. It had to function in some way to make it worth the purchase.

Which then led to commentary about how fortunate they were, and she needn’t fret, because she would be provided for the whole of her life.

Would those promises still stand?

“I do not sit out here often enough,” Athan said at last. “Mostly because then I see all the work that needs doing, and I feel guilty I am not getting to it.”

Orma shifted in her seat. She lacked the experience to know what the plants needed. So to her it was a mass of green and deep blues, so dark they were almost black. Those were beneath a large tree that sprawled heavy limbs over the back half of the garden. Athan could not have planted it. Even she knew a tree of such a size would need generations to grow to such a span. There were bright mosses across half its trunk in shocking yellows and deep reds.

Was that on purpose? Or was that one of the things he should be tending to?

“You don’t have to stay,” Orma offered. He had better things to do than wait on her. Wait for her to sort herself out and be a proper person again. “I’m sure you had responsibilities today.” She nodded toward the building beside them, the one he called the infirmary. “People that need you.”

He said nothing for a moment. Did nothing. Which was fine. Would be just as fine as when he got up and left, leaving her to watch the leaves rustle in the breeze, watch the water trip over rocks and fallen debris as it made its way to... wherever creeks ended.

“I find it curious,” Athan answered. “That you think any of that would be more important than getting to know you.”

She should find it flattering, but she could manage only a miserable look in his direction. “You had a life, Athan. Before me. With important work. And just because I decided to come...” she wanted to sayspybut didn’t. “There’s not much you can do for me, truly. So I should tend to my things as best as I’m able, and you tend to yours.”

He didn’t hum. Didn’t offer any sort of agreement. Just sank back more fully, his wing brushing against her arm as he didso. It should tickle. Should make her feeling...anything at all. “Is now when you would take an elixir?”

She blinked, considering her answer.

“Are you offering one?”

He stretched his legs out, his hands twining at the fingers as they settled against his middle. “Perhaps. If I understand what they are for. If I understand your mood.”

He gave the bond a little pull, as if testing to see if her sudden malaise affected even that. She didn’t need to be tugged and prodded about. She just needed time and a long sleep and it would pass on its own.

She told him that. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t irritated that she had to do so. Orma wasn’t much of anything at all.

He tapped his pointer finger against his other hand, his mouth pulling downward slightly as he considered.

If he suggested going to the infirmary to check her over, she would leave. Or... she hoped she’d have enough gumption to actually do it. “You asked what I longed for most with my mate.” Which was not at all what she thought he might say, and it was enough for her to turn her head away from watching the creek so she might better judge his expression.

“I think I should like to show you now.”

She wasn’t prepared for that either, and she opened her mouth to give her objections. It would be something intimate, she was certain. Something that would involve touches and probably kisses, and it irritated her that he would think to frighten away her melancholy with such tricks.

The bond would make her willing enough. Which was terrifying and irksome all at once.

She wanted to remind him of his previous declarations. About sickbeds and wanting and she had not altered her opinion about her readiness in the few hours it had been since they’d last discussed it.

But he was picking her up. His eyes bright and certain of his course.

And she was limp and tired in his arms, and she really had eaten little. Nor in the days beforehand, either—too preoccupied with Lucian’s suggestion to manage sleep or food.

But there was another part that... wondered.

That stilled her tongue and let him take her where he meant to go.

To show her his true nature. To know if he was the good, kindly sort of man she thought him to be, or if his patience was as limited as she feared.

Back to his room, and there was a knot of dread in her belly.

It worsened when he set her down on the mussed bedding.

When he climbed in as well.

---