Page 38 of The Demon of the Wood

“No?” Shock colored Kaemon’s face.

She crossed her arms, uncertain where this temerity was coming from. “Please. You’re the only home I’ve ever known, Kaemon.”

His face softened, and he strode to her, taking her in his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in his shirt, taking in a deep breath, and committing the smell to memory, even though she didn’t have to. Kaemon could fly to the other continent and never see her again, and she would still recall his scent of pine and leather and smoke from memory alone.

“I can’t risk it. Melina, I can't risk you. I won’t risk you.”

He wouldn’t budge. She could see it in the set of his jaw, the resolution in his eyes. She nodded her head silently, sorrow filling her.

nineteen

Kaemon

“Stop!”Melinacriedout,stepping close to Kaemon, bracing against his chest as he teetered, still unsteady on his feet. “You need to rest.”

He smiled ruefully at the reprimand. Reaching down, he brushed the loose hairs out of her face, taking a moment to memorize the lines of it, as if he hadn’t already. They would see each other in Orc Haven, but he would have to keep his distance. The last day he’d spent mostly in bed, acting “fussy” (as Melina said), about the fact that he couldn’t check the traps in the forest, or fly her straight to Aife and Jorah’s. Each day he had to recover was another day Melina was in danger.

“I'll be fine,” he said, taking another step, letting his tail reach out and steady him against the wall, or tables as he moved. “I need to move.”

“You don’t need to rush your recovery.” She followed him about, arms up, hands poised to brace if his steps should stumble.

“I need to get you to Orc Haven, and soon. If I thought it was safe, I’d have you get Silenus to take you back by foot.”

“Well, it’s not safe, so just rest.”

Melina had stopped fighting him on leaving, though hurt lingered in her eyes often, and she’d made no attempt to pack up. She kept saying that they had to focus on his recovery. Kaemon wondered if she hoped he would change his mind. But he wouldn’t. The nightmares of his fever dreams still haunted him. He woke with a start every morning, panic seizing his body, the feeling of blood on his hands. The only thing that helped was that when he woke, Melina was in his arms. Her soft breathing, her body curled against him like a weight holding him secure to the earth.

It was warm enough that he could have slept on the ground. But when he’d stood to settle on the ground, Melina had grabbed his arm, the desperation so thick in those hazel eyes that he had climbed into the bed next to her. Each night since, neither had said anything, only crawled into bed, not cuddling, ending up tangled around one another in the morning.

He barely slept, his ears always searching for any signs of a threat. He listened even now, as he hobbled around the cabin, Melina like a shadow, as he began gathering her things. A muted cry of indignation came from her direction, but when he looked, she had busied herself with cooking. That she wanted to stay with him, that the pain of separation seemed as acute to her as to him, was a small comfort. Part of him wondered if it wasn’t the security of the life she’d built here, but he knew at the very least it was also their friendship.

Hazy memories of kissing her flooded his mind. He wasn’t certain it had happened. Melina had not brought it up, and he felt shame that he had done that. Even if he’d been out of his mind. Even if he could still feel the soft curve of her lips, taste her skin on his tongue. Even if he swore that she had pressed her lips against his for a moment, returning the kiss, her hands gripping him. He shook the thoughts away. It did no good to dwell on them now, though he knew that the memory would come back to him often enough.

Taking a bag, he began carefully placing her items in it. He hoped he’d be strong enough to fly her to town in the morning, and he wanted to make sure she had everything she needed. Knowing her, she would leave almost everything behind, afraid of taking things she perceived as his. He took the sewing pouch she had expertly fashioned from her old clothes, examining it as he placed it in the satchel. The fine needlework astounded him still, each tiny stitch so careful and perfect. He put a fur blanket in the bag as well.

“No, no!” she protested, suddenly crouching at his side. “That’s your new one.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need it.” Mostly, he wanted her to have something nice. He wanted to give her more and more. The idea of leaving her in town, away from his watchful care, made that invisible line that existed between them hum with anxiety. He ignored it.

Next were her fabrics, which she helped him fold and put away. Then he took the book of fables and a small carved animal and placed it in. Melina stood abruptly. Her eyes lined with tears.

“I… I need to get some air,” she said, then hurried out of the cabin.

He didn’t follow. He would let her have a moment to herself. Could he keep her here? Could he keep her safe? His mind ran through every option, trying, and failing, to find a way for them to stay together and be safe. He had the wild thought of taking her to Medeis, to the House of Shadows. But he wasn’t even sure he would be welcome. How could he take her and risk that? She was a magicless human. Nemus was her home. She would do so well on her own, in the village. He just needed to get out of her way and stop selfishly keeping her to himself.

twenty

Melina

Melinarubbedherglovedhands together, gazing up at the arch to Orc Haven, from where they stood in the forest nearby.

“Do we really have to go in separately?” she asked.

“I don’t want anyone to realize we’re together.”

She hated it; she hated not walking with him, not being seen with him, even if she understood it. Agreeing to this had been partially because she couldn’t very well tell him he had to let her stay in his cabin when he’d already helped her so much, and partially because his fear hung in the air, thick and suffocating each day. If she could feel it, she could only imagine how it affected him. She didn’t want to be parted from him, but he wouldn’t listen to her. His fear was so great that he couldn’t, and what argument would change that? She would do the same in his shoes. She’d had the thought to flee to Silenus’, just to be closer to him, but she knew he needed some assurance of her safety.

Melina reached out, squeezing his arm for one last time, then walked in through the gates of town. He was always close by as she wended through the streets and market, still protective, but she felt the loss of his nearness all the same. She came to the Tipsy Tavern, the dining hall quiet as she stepped in. Aife and Jorah pored over paperwork together as she entered. They cried out happily when they noticed her, and Aife engulfed her in a hug.

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