The Choosing (18 page)

They’ve been left to freshen up in Torek’s home, a small but well-kept house on the outskirts of the village. Jerath wishes he had enough energy to appreciate the beauty of Chastil, because he’s sure it’s just as lovely as Meren described, but he’s so tired. He and Serim wash up as best they can and then collapse onto two of the chairs around Torek’s kitchen table.

“Are you okay?” Serim runs her fingers through Jerath’s hair and he rests his head on her shoulder.

“Yes, just really tired. I think I could sleep for a week.”

Serim laughs, but pulls him tighter against her. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Jerath.” She whispers it into his hair and he can hear the tremble in her voice. “Promise me.”

“I’ll do my best.” He stands up and presses a kiss to her forehead. “It’s not something I want to repeat anytime soon.” He grins and she must feel it because her fingers dig into his ribs, making him yelp.

“So.” Serim looks up at him and smirks. “You and Meren, then?”

Jerath blushes and ducks his head, but he can’t hide the huge smile that spreads across his face. “Yeah.”

“So he’s okay with the bonding?”

“No, he still doesn’t want that.” Jerath refuses to think about that part, though. He has him for now and that’s something he never thought he’d get, so he’ll take what he can.

“But, Jerath—”

“It’s fine, Serim. It’s what I want.”

She looks as though she wants to say more, but Jerath gives her his best “Please, I don’t want to talk about it” look, and she lets it drop. But Jerath isn’t stupid enough to think she’ll let it go entirely.

They sit in silence for a while until Jerath gets tired of waiting.

“They’ve been gone awhile.” He walks over to one of the windows and peers out, but the area outside is strangely deserted. “Do you think everything’s okay?”

Serim joins him at the window. “I don’t know. It’s far too quiet out there, Jerath. I don’t like it.”

Jerath shares Serim’s unease. Something just doesn’t feel right. “Come on.” He walks over to the door and eases it open. “Let’s go find out.”

They hug the sides of buildings as they head to what they hope is the center of the village. Jerath isn’t exactly sure when they decided to hide, but his unease is growing and the unfamiliar surroundings only add to it.

There’s movement up ahead as Jerath peeks round the side of a seemingly empty building. They haven’t seen a single person so far, and Jerath’s senses are on high alert. He pulls Serim back against his chest as she leans out to have a look. “Careful,” he whispers.

They watch as the men get closer and closer, until Jerath can finally make out their faces. His blood runs cold at the sight, and he growls low and vicious as he recognizes the strangers they saw coming out of the barn in Eladir. The same people who helped kidnap Kyr and Ghaneth and countless others.

“
Jerath.
” Serim snarls his name as she recognizes them too. “Meren is with them.”

He scans through the men until he sees Meren. For a moment Jerath is terrified that they’ve raided his village too and are holding him captive, but Meren is smiling and laughing, and Jerath feels the bile rise up his throat as he struggles not to be sick.

“We need to go. Now!” Serim is already stripping so she can shift as Jerath just stares at the group of men, unable to tear his gaze away. He can’t believe he felt the magic of the mating bond for someone who… who…. Jerath struggles to accept that Meren knew all this time. That everything since they met him has been a lie. He thinks about their night together, his stomach churns, and he doubles over and retches.

There’s a low rumble from beside him and Serim’s black panther nudges his legs. Her tail swishes furiously and her eyes flash. Her whole body is screaming,
Come on.

Jerath rips his clothes off, not caring if they’re ruined, and shifts. He spares one last glance for Meren—his heart shattering as he watches them all together—and then bounds after Serim and out of the village.

T
HEY
run for what seems like hours, but Jerath knows it’s only been a fraction of that time before Serim suddenly stops and turns to face him. She immediately shifts and Jerath reluctantly does the same. He feels horribly exposed like this, but it’s obvious that Serim wants to talk.

She’s chosen a good spot; they’re in the middle of a small group of trees, which is rare out on the plains, and Jerath follows her as she climbs up the nearest one to hide in the safety of its branches. It’s cold now that they’re human again and the bark is rough against Jerath’s skin, but in light of what has just happened, he hardly feels it. He doesn’t feel much apart from a growing numbness spreading out from his chest.

“What just happened, Jerath? What were those men doing in Meren’s village?” Serim’s voice comes out urgent and desperate. Jerath wishes he could reassure her, tell her they must have misunderstood and that they should go back, but he just can’t.

“I don’t know.” He rests his head against the thick trunk and sighs. “But you saw them, Serim. They looked comfortable with each other, they weren’t strangers. Which can only mean…?” He doesn’t want to finish that sentence, doesn’t want to say it out loud.

“That they’re from Meren’s village,” Serim finishes for him. She reaches out and takes his hand. “Meren’s father… you don’t think he’s…?”

Jerath hadn’t wanted to think about that at all, but now that Serim’s brought it up he can see the resemblance between Meren and the older man he was talking to, and the familiar way they interacted. “Yeah… I do.”

They don’t speak again for a while. The silence stretches between them as they struggle to accept their new circumstances. Jerath had been so happy just a few hours ago. He still had the issue of the bond to deal with, but Meren had wanted to spend time with him and take what they could get while they had the chance. He’d also thought they were about to find a way to help the people of his village. And now? Now it’s all fallen apart. Now they’re alone again, in a foreign land, and Jerath doesn’t think he’ll trust anyone new ever again.

“I just don’t understand,” Serim muses. Her hand is still wrapped in Jerath’s, and her head now rests on his shoulder. “Any of it.” She moves slightly until she’s looking up at him. “I mean, why go to all that trouble to be our friends and….” She doesn’t add
lovers
,
but she might as well have. “There are only two of us, Jerath. They could have killed us or captured us at any point after we entered their camp.”

Jerath doesn’t understand either. His mind is stuck replaying every kiss and touch he and Meren shared. He runs them over and over and tries to see the falseness in Meren’s actions or the insincerity of his words, but he just can’t. Jerath is well aware how inexperienced he is in certain areas, but he always thought he was a good judge of character.

“I know, Serim. None of it makes any sense.” He tucks her head into his shoulder and holds her tight—as much for his benefit as hers. “But I know what I saw. What other explanation is there?”

Her only answer is to wrap her arms around him and sigh. Because there is no other explanation. The men who were at Jerath’s village are Meren’s people, probably led by his father and…. Jerath suddenly sits bolt upright and shakes Serim in the process, nearly knocking her out of the tree.

“Jerath?” she hisses and clings to him for dear life. “What the—”

“What if they’re at the village?” She looks up at him in confusion. “Ghaneth and the others? Do you think they’ve got them back at the village?” He can’t believe he didn’t think of it earlier. If Meren’s father is one of the armed men he and Serim saw at their village before they ran away, it stands to reason the raiders would be from here as well.

Serim’s eyes go wide as saucers, flashing blue in the dark as her panther stirs beneath the surface. “Do you think they could be?” Jerath nods and she grips his arms while her body trembles as she fights the urge to shift. “May the Goddess forgive us, Jerath! We just left them.” Her nails are now the sharp claws of her cat and they dig into Jerath’s skin, but he barely notices them.

“We need to go back.” He feels the guilt swirl deep and menacing in his gut. He’s ashamed they didn’t spare a thought for their people and just ran away to save themselves. “Now.”

Serim’s grip tightens and this time Jerath does wince but she doesn’t let go. “We need a plan, Jerath. We can’t just rush in there, no matter how much we might want to.” He slumps back against the tree, and Serim relaxes her grip but still keeps her hand on his arm. “There are only two of us.”

“We have to do something, we can’t just—”

“I know that!” She looks hurt and angry and Jerath immediately apologizes. He should know better; Serim would never leave her people, especially Ghaneth.

“What do we do, then?”

T
HEY
spend the next hour going through idea after idea, but each one seems just as dangerous and foolhardy as the next. They have no idea where Ghaneth and the others are being held, if they’re heavily guarded, or if they’re hurt. They’ve avoided thinking about the alternative—as far as Serim and Jerath are concerned, they’re all still alive until they see otherwise.

Jerath has his eyes closed, listening to Serim talk through yet another plan of attack, when his spine prickles in warning. He sits up and raises his finger to his lips. It’s dark still, only the light of the moon illuminating their bodies, but Serim has no trouble seeing him and stops talking midsentence. Jerath cocks his head to the side and listens. The night is full of noises, nocturnal animals and insects going about their business, but Jerath’s listening for something else.

He’s just about to accept that he imagined it when he hears it again. It’s faint, a way off in the distance still, but he can definitely hear voices. He looks over at Serim. Her face is a mixture of fierce determination and rage and he knows she hears it too.

“They’re looking for us,” Jerath whispers.

“Let them.” Serim’s voice is hard and cold, and the look on her face is one Jerath has never seen before.

They both look toward the sound of the voices. Their eyes strain to see in the darkness, and after a few moments, Jerath is able to make out the faint glimmer of torches. They obviously aren’t taking any care to be stealthy. Either they don’t see him and Serim as a threat or they’re just plain stupid. Meren doesn’t strike him as being stupid.

They watch and wait as the group gets closer and closer. “What do we do?” Serim’s voice is barely a whisper against Jerath’s shoulder.

He knows they should attack—they have the element of surprise—but what if it’s Meren? He’s still Jerath’s mate.
Potential mate who betrayed me
, he reminds himself. But the feelings are still there, making Jerath both angry and hurt at the same time. “We wait.”

He needs to see it for himself, up close and personal, so there’s no trace of doubt in his mind. Serim doesn’t answer. She’s tense and ready for action, but Jerath senses she’s as conflicted as he is.

As the torches get nearer, the voices ring out clearly in the night air. Jerath recognizes Meren and Torek among them as they call out their names, over and over. He feels the familiar tug in his belly. The need to go to Meren is still there. Jerath ignores it.

But then they hear a voice that’s impossible to ignore. It rings out clear and beautiful, and Jerath almost loses his balance at the sound of it. His breath catches in his throat and he hears Serim gasp next to him. That’s impossible.

“Jerath,” Serim whispers. “That was—”

“I know.”

Mahli.

She calls out again, telling them it’s all right. That everything’s okay and “will you please come back because I’ve fucking missed you and it’s too cold to be running about in the plains at night.”

Jerath snorts, he can’t help it, it’s such a
Mahli
thing to say.

Serim looks as though she’s about to jump down any moment and reveal their position and he knows just how she feels, but Mahli could be a prisoner too for all they know. He pulls her against his chest and tells her to wait just a little longer.

As the group approaches the trees, Jerath recognizes a few others from his village. They’re all walking together, no sign that they’re being held against their wills, and Jerath is beyond confused. He glances down at Serim and she shrugs and shakes her head.

“Serim, Jerath?” Mahli calls out into the night, and it’s so good to hear her voice after all this time. Jerath’s eyes fill with tears. He’s missed her so much. Serim sniffles and he squeezes her shoulder in silent support.

“Whatever made you run away, it’s not what you think.” She pauses about twenty feet from their tree and they get a good look at her for the first time. She’s dressed in unfamiliar clothes and has a bow slung over her shoulder, just like Meren and Torek’s. Her blonde hair is wild about her face, but she looks… like Mahli. There’s no fear in her face. If anything, she looks exasperated as she calls their names again, and Jerath almost wants to laugh at the whole situation. “I’ve been working with Meren’s father, Malek. He and his people want to help us. We know where Ghaneth, Kyr, and all the others are being held, and we’re going to get them back.”