Page 23 of Agor the Merciless
“It’s beautiful,” Zoe admitted. “The mountains, the trees, the clean air... that’s not the problem.”
Zana looked up. “Problem?”
“I meant…” Zoe backpedaled. “It’s just different. I’m used to concrete and noise.”
“You’ll adapt quickly,” Pira said. “Yesterday you walked the camp like you belonged. Most humans stumble through underbrush for weeks.”
“I like being outdoors.” Zoe stared at the tree line. “Always wanted more of it. In the city, you forget what real air tastes like.”
“On the next full moon, we’ll have a gathering,” Pira said. “Under the stars, with music. You will like it, I think.”
“I remember...” Zana began, then paused. “I offered to teach you tanning. But perhaps that is unwise now.”
Pira’s eyes widened.
“The captain has made his wishes clear,” Zana continued, lowering her voice. “I would not anger him by encouraging you to work.”
“Right,” Zoe said. “No work for the captain’s precious mate.”
Pira the Forager adjusted her herbs, her discomfort evident.
“The summer brings many berries. Sweet ones. We could show you the best picking spots instead.”
“Berries,” Zoe repeated. “That’s allowed?”
“Food gathering is acceptable for all females,” Zana said. “Even captains’ mates.”
“How generous of him.”
“Zoe...” Pira glanced around. “The captain protects what is his.”
“I don’t need protection from work.”
The conversation died. Zoe felt their pity, their navigation around her new status.
“I should go.” She nodded and turned away.
***
From across the camp, Agor watched. He observed his mate move among the horde, her head high, her steps measured. He noted the distance she placed between herself and the others, the short exchanges, the straight posture.
Pride filled him. She carried herself with dignity befitting a captain’s mate. She accepted her place. She didn’t argue or complain to the others, didn’t seek sympathy or cause discord.
This was why he had chosen her. This strength. This resilience. The same qualities that had enabled her to endure his passion, now allowed her to accept his protection. He had made the right decision. She needed guidance and boundaries. She would understand in time that her place was not among grease and metal, but at his side, honored and preserved.
The anger would fade, the coldness would warm, and she would see that he acted out of love.
Agor nodded to himself. He had preserved her fire while guiding it. Just as he’d intended.
***
Zoe retreated to the cave at dusk. She lay on the bed of pelts, clothed, boots still laced. She didn’t know if she could resist him tonight, not with that damned salve, but at least by keeping her clothes on, she hoped to set the mood – one of complete refusal.
Half an hour later, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Her heart started beating faster. It seemed this was the effect he had on her, and she’d better get used to it. If she didn’t, she’d end up having a heart attack one day. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But she’d develop a heart condition, for sure.
Agor ducked through the entrance, and immediately noticed her on the bed, bundled up as if it were winter, not summer.
Zoe expected him to speak, to demand she undress, to show anger at her silent defiance. Instead, he moved into the room and removed his leather vest. That intrigued her. She watched ashe adjusted the candles, his tattoos like dark, ominous shadows on his back. He turned, and the light revealed his chest – green skin marked with deep scars from past battles. Despite everything, she wondered about the story behind each of them. Who had wounded him? Who had healed him?
