Page 47 of Thief of Roses
“My great Baró, my protector and fierce companion, undone by so simple a truth.”Her hand moved from his arm to his cheek again.
For all Baró’s size, age, and strength, Rivani wished to take him in her arms and coddle him like a child.He sounded lost and so desperately in need of her faith in him.She released his hand and put her arms around his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck as she pressed her body to his.He had been so comforting when they had gone to pay respects to her horse that she could not help but hope that she might comfort him the same way.She knew the softness of the fur of his arms and hands, the silken layer of fur on his chest, the coarser curly fur around his neck and she knew that his musculature would be hard and sculpted from his toils and exercises.She had braced herself for something much less pleasant than she had experienced the first time, expecting places in his fur to be bristled and prickly, the pads of his hands rough, and his physique unyielding.
She was wrong.
He was warm and inviting, the fur of his body more welcoming, more sensuous, more comforting than she remembered.Her thoughts had been on her horse that day and on how sorry she was to weep on Baró’s chest.She had remembered that it was relieving and so welcome to have arms around her, to have a solid, warm body to understand the reason for her pain, to have even cautious affection offered without condition.He had been patient and caring and sympathetic.She did not remember their physical connection because she had been so grateful for and focused on his attentiveness and having that space to grieve.But now, with the time, with the ability to return in kind that comfort, she could enjoy the feel of him.She buried her face in the fur at his head and, though different from the fine hair over the rest of his body, it had the length and texture of the softest sable pelt she had ever stroked.Rivani sighed into his neck.The pads of his hands brushed against her.Yes, they were rough from calluses, but they were warm and they held her so tenderly she hardly believed that they belonged to the monster who had greeted her so long ago at the rose bush courtyard of their home.
Rivani allowed herself to relax into him, content in his arms in a way she had never been in another’s.It made her stomach flutter and she thought,He is my Baró, my beast.And she thought,he said it himself, he is mine.She wanted him, this imperfect but unique creature, who behaved like a child learning his lessons and so wanted to please her, whose casual consideration resembled anyone else’s courtship.She could yet be his too and be content.That thought came unbidden and she almost jerked herself out of his arms with the surprise of it.
“Have I hurt you?”He asked, pulling away.“Did I touch you too long?I am so sorry.I had not meant to disrespect you.It felt unnatural not to respond similarly.”He attempted to extract himself from her arms but she held him fast.
“No, Baró, no.I initiated it and I think I should feel insulted had you not desired to reciprocate.”She buried her hand in the fur at the back of his head to soothe him, but her hand stilled as she regarded him.When had he become so dear?
“Must you leave me every month?”She lamented.
“If I stay....”He choked out, “I yearn for you always but if it becomes a biological imperative to couple with you when you ovulate, I could not ensure your safety.The blood time still drives me mad with longing and—”
“Did you enjoy my present?”
His cheeks flared and he bit his bottom lip.“Very much, but it makes me think of you in ways that are so intensely inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate for good, moral, upstanding, repressed human sensibilities perhaps,” she scoffed.
He grew warmer and his complexion deepened.“You are too forgiving.You must say instead, ‘Baró, reign in those instincts of yours and purge yourself of all such thoughts.’”
“I cannot imagine that you have never experienced such inclinations at other times.”
Baró shifted and looked away.“Of course I have.And if it were confined to deer or bears in heat, yes, very natural.But nothing produces the same irresistible scent as humans.And that is...It’s not natural, not with me.”
“Is it not?”She tugged on a curl of his mane.
“I have worked hard not to desire, to resist it when I do, to withdraw when I am able.You have been understanding, but I have no wish to scare you off.”
“Perhaps that is why you are so affected,” she said.“You have told yourself that you are not allowed to feel anything so that when you do, it is something bad.”
“I could not take the chance that I might harm you.”
“You have told me of your past, Baró.I trust you when you tell me you were heartless and dispassionate.I believe every word of your coldness, of your disinterest and deafness to the suffering of others.I know that you were blind to the cruelty around you, accustomed to it, nurtured in the twisted hateful soil of your upbringing, where hurting people was not just commonplace but a means of survival.I have never once doubted your faults.You are vain and proud, more willing to suffer for such flaws than swallow them and ask for help.”She dropped her arms from around him and sat back on her own ankles.“That one dreadful, condemning act where you lost yourself has caused you to believe that you can never be trusted — is it not odd that you have no memory of it?You have told me terrible things, Baró, but you have never spoken of other incidents where you behaved with comparable violence.You have spared yourself none of the blame.”There had to be other factors, other things he did not himself know.“I trust you, Baró.You have been my protector and my friend and I do not believe that you would ever knowingly harm me.”
“What if I should?”
“You will not,” she said again, professing her confidence in him.“I accept that you will be underfoot and doe-eyed and I will have to shoo you away, but you will not hurt me.”She kissed the tip of his snout.“Stay.Please.”
“I will not hurt you,” he repeated.“And I will stay.”
