Page 70 of Nansar
"She did not want to eat at first," one of the young men said, stroking her neck affectionately. "But once she tasted our grain..." He grinned, his teeth white against his dark skin. "We could not keep her from it."
Starfield tossed her head as they began securing the supply bags to her saddle, but it was a half-hearted protest at best. She kept turning to nose at the young man's pockets, clearly hoping for more treats, her ears pricked forward with shameless begging. When I approached to check the saddle, the mare actually shifted her weight away, as if reluctant to acknowledge that departure was imminent.
"I think she's made some friends," Chloe said softly, running her hand along Starfield's neck with gentle affection. The mare's ears flicked back, then forward again, and she released a long, resigned sigh that seemed to say she knew the good times were ending.
"She will miss the grain," the young man said with a laugh that rang warm in the morning air. "And we will miss her. She is a good kuda. Strong spirit." He gave her one final pat before stepping back, his expression fond.
I watched one of the males adjust the supplies on Starfield's saddle, making sure everything was balanced and secure. The Welati had been more than generous. We hadenough provisions now to make it to the rendezvous point with ease. It was a kindness we could never truly repay.
I mounted first, settling into the saddle with familiar ease, then reached down to lift Chloe up. She settled in front of me like she'd been made to fit there, her body settling against mine like it had always belonged there. Like we were two pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.
After giving us directions that would take us to the rendezvous point in just two days, the Welati saw us through the gates, a sea of dark faces marked with sacred tattoos. The elder raised her hand in blessing, and the others followed suit, calling out farewells that echoed off the mountain walls.
"Safe travels!" someone called.
"May the mountains guide you!" another voice rang out.
"Come back to us!" a child's voice added, making several adults laugh.
Chloe lifted her hand in return, her smile genuine and bright as the morning sun. "Thank you! For everything!"
I added my own farewell, feeling the weight of their generosity settle warm in my chest. Then I urged Starfield forward, and the mare—despite her earlier reluctance—responded with only a single longing look back at her new friends and their grain stores.
The path led us up and away from the village, winding through stands of trees that released their sharp, clean scent into the air with every brush of wind. Behind us, the calls and waves gradually faded until there was only the steady rhythm of Starfield's hooves and the whisper of wind through the trees, a peaceful symphony that seemed to celebrate our freedom.
Chloe relaxed further against me, her head tilting to rest near my shoulder in a gesture of trust that made my heart clench. I felt each breath she took, the rise and fall of her back against my chest, the steady beat of her heart that seemedto sync with my own. My arm came around her waist almost without thought, steadying her as the path grew steeper, holding her close because I couldn't bear not to.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she seemed to sink deeper into my embrace, her body soft and warm against mine.
We rode in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher, painting the mountain peaks in shades of gold that took my breath away. The trail opened up onto a ridge, and suddenly the world spread out before us—valley after valley rolling away into blue distance, slopes thick with forest that seemed to go on forever.
"It's beautiful," Chloe breathed, and I felt the words as much as heard them, her voice full of wonder that made something in my chest expand.
It was. But more than that—it felt different now. The same mountains, the same endless sky, but without the constant edge of danger that had shadowed every moment. No one lurking in the shadows. No need to scan the tree line for threats. Just... peace. A peace I'd never known I craved until this moment.
I let Starfield pick her own pace, trusting her instincts on the narrow trail. The mare seemed content now, her earlier reluctance forgotten as she settled into the familiar rhythm of travel. Though I noticed she'd grown a bit rounder during our stay—the Welati had clearly spoiled her rotten.
The trail wound through a meadow dotted with late-season wildflowers, their purple and gold heads nodding in the breeze like waves on a painted sea. A bird circled overhead, its cry sharp and clear, a sound of pure freedom. Somewhere in the distance, water tumbled over stone in a soothing rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of my heart.
Chloe's hand came to rest over mine where it lay against her stomach, her fingers curling gently around my own in a gesture that felt achingly intimate.
"Nansar?" Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, and I felt the vibration of it against my chest. "What did the elder mean? About your horns itching? I noticed it too."
My chest tightened, my breath catching. The longer she went without asking, the more I'd hoped she'd let it pass. But of course she would ask. My Chloe was curious by nature.
"It's..." I cleared my throat, searching for the words to explain without revealing the truth. "It's a sign of attraction. Among my people."
"Oh." A pause. I felt her shift slightly against me, though she didn't pull away, her body still warm and soft in my arms. "So when someone... when you're attracted to someone, your horns itch?"
"Something like that." The words felt wrong on my tongue, tasting like ash. Attraction seemed too small a word, too simple. It didn't capture the way my entire being recognized her from the first moment, the way every instinct I possessed screamedminewhenever she was near. The way the thought of her leaving felt like losing a limb—no, worse. Like losing my soul.
But I couldn't tell her that. I couldn't burden her with the knowledge that she was my mate, my one true mate in all the universe, when my sole purpose was to get her to safety, off Palaydium and out of my life forever. When I had nothing to offer her but a life in the shadows, always running, always hiding.
"That must be... inconvenient," she said, and I heard the smile in her voice, warm and teasing, with an undercurrent of something else.
I forced myself to breathe normally, to keep my voice steady and casual. "It passes."
Another lie. The biggest lie I'd ever told. It would never pass. Not after she was gone. Not as long as I lived. The itching would fade, yes, but the ache in my chest? The knowledge that I'd found my mate and let her go? That would haunt me until my dying breath.
