Page 34 of Changelings
Imogen’s eyes rounded, the irises completely surrounded in white. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, but Balar quickly wiped it away. There was no need for her to cry, not if he was there.
“Kurun-inandawe call it. The goddess mark. It means you are blessed.”
Her lips scrunched, and for a moment, Balar worried that she would sob. But in the next moment, she shut her eyes and wiped at her unshed tears. He watched as his mate shored up her defenses, pulling back her hurts.
He admired her strength, but it gutted him to see it all the same.
I will have her hurts one day. They will be mine just as much as her smiles.
Those hurts wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
“It’s never felt like a blessing,” she muttered.
“You humans have strange ways,” he said, attempting levity. “It’s just some color upon your skin.”
Imogen hummed, neither agreeing nor denying. Instead, silence stretched between them, but Balar was just grateful to have seen and met her fears—and for the chance to get to touch her.
Clearing her throat, Imogen lifted the basket she was carrying, presenting him with a wealth of fat, juicy blackberries.
Purring in pleasure, he scarfed down a few, making a show of it and heaping compliments on her harvesting skills. “A woman who can pick such perfect berries is invaluable.”
She didn’t laugh, but a reluctant smile did touch the corners of her lips, rounding her cheeks.
Feeling bold, Balar bent and placed one berry-flavored kiss upon her red cheek. “Kurun-inanda,” he whispered against her skin.
Her other cheek pinkened in a lovely blush.
Balar grinned, and, wrapping his wing around her, he led her toward the cottage.
“Now, I unfortunately only have the morning to give you, so tell me all about what you’ve done and how much you’ve missed me.”
“That won’t take long.”
Her lips twitched, and Balar threw his head back and laughed. A rare joke! Ah, hissah-zendaalways enlivened him with her wit.
“Very well, then I will tell you all about mine, andIdid miss you very much, so it might take all morning.”
13
As autumn settled across the Darrowlands, so too did Imogen into a new routine. Or, at least, something like it. She was a creature of habit and familiarity, so as the weeks passed with Balar’s continued presence, he too became familiar. While he might have been shocking and imposing before, now he was more…everyday.
She didn’t hate it.
In fact, she looked for him to appear at the mouth of the path or anticipated his knock on her door each morning. He was steadily making himself a familiar presence within her life by sheer will and perseverance, and she’d be a liar to say she didn’t admire his tenacity.
Imogen also secretly admired his renewed dedication to his mayoral duties. Some days, he could only spend the morning or afternoon with her. On those he couldn’t get away at all, he’d get one of his brothers to pass along his message.
Although Imogen might’ve thought the brothers would resent or shirk such a chore, especially the adults, they took to it wellenough, even Soren. Most of the time, they flew to her, winging down through a clearing in the tree canopy. It wasn’t a long flight from the otherly village, and the more they flew, the wider the clearing became.
With a few choice branches cut away, they had a perfect pathway through the foliage.
Widening the opening through the canopy had an ulterior motive, as she soon came to find out. With autumn deepening every day, often leaving frost on the ground in the mornings, the patch of concentrated sunlight that traversed her meadow throughout the day became a favorite lounging spot for any visiting manticore.
Although their task was over within a moment of telling her Balar couldn’t come that day, more and more, the brothers tended to stay a while, snagging a bit of sun.
One day, she even watched Diar slowly follow the pool of sunlight across the meadow, rolling every so often to keep himself in the center of that beam. He stayed so long, Kiri was sent to find him—only to curl up beside his brother and nap in the grass.
When Akila had brought a pillow with him one day, Imogen had assumed it was a joke. Everything usually was with Akila, but sunbathing at least he took very seriously. Akila and his pillow rolled slowly across the meadow throughout the day, with Shadow occasionally trotting over to sniff.
