It has been a week and five days since Ravin left, twelve long days of silence and waiting, and each morning I wake expecting to see his golden mane appear at the edge of the village. He should return any day now. The tiger tribe negotiations should be complete, the alliance sealed, my mate on his way home to me.
But until then, I have Leon to care for, and that care has become my anchor, my purpose, my rhythm from dawn until dusk.
He is getting better day by day, his strength returning in small victories. This morning he sat up on his own, wincing but determined. Yesterday he walked to the entrance of our den and back, supported by my shoulder. His fingers move freely, which was a good sign, proof that the nerves in his arm still work despite the terrible gash that nearly severed his shoulder. He just needs time to heal, time for the flesh to knit, for the muscle to regain its strength.
I change his bandages twice daily, a ritual that has become intimate in ways I did not expect. I unwrap the linen slowly, peeling away the cloth that sticks to his skin where serum and blood have dried. The wound is healing clean, thanks to the salve I apply, but it is still angry and red, a raised seam of flesh that will become a permanent mark.
I take the jar of salve, warmed by my hands, and rub it into his skin with gentle, circular motions. My fingers trace the length of the scar, from where it starts near his collarbone down to just under his armpit where the gash had gaped open. I work the ointment into every inch, especially the thickened ridge where the flesh had torn deepest, ensuring the skin stays supple, that it will not tighten and restrict his movement.
Leon watches me as I work, his dark eyes following my hands, my face, searching for something I cannot name. He has been quiet today, withdrawn, his ears flattened slightly in a way I have learned to read as distress.
"Do you find it repulsive?" he asks suddenly, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. "The scar. The way I look now. Do you find me... damaged? Unsightly?"
I still my hands, looking up to meet his eyes. There is vulnerability there, raw and exposed, the insecurity of a man who has nearly lost his life and fears he has lost his worth.
"No," I say firmly, meaning it with every part of my being. I set the jar aside and take his uninjured hand, pressing it to my heart so he can feel how steady my pulse is, how certain. "I find it admirable. A battle scar earned by risking your life to save someone. To save me." I lean forward, my forehead touching his, my breath mingling with his. "Do not worry, Leon. Nothing about you makes me feel repulsed. Your strength, your courage, the way you fought for me, the way you continue to fight to heal, it only makes me admire you more. You are beautiful to me. Scar and all."
He exhales, a shuddering breath, and some of the tension leaves his body. His hand squeezes mine, grateful, relieved.
When Leon falls asleep, his breathing deep and even, his face peaceful in the afternoon light, I rise quietly. I gather my washing things, the linen cloths, the small jar of soap I made, and I slip out to the bathing chamber. I move as quietly as I can, padding on bare feet so I do not wake him.
I am still embarrassed to show my body to Leon, still shy despite everything. We have slept together, skin to skin, when his fever raged, but that was necessity, survival. The thought of him seeing me now, whole and healthy, watching me wash, fills me with a self-consciousness I cannot shake. Once he is fully healed, once we are truly bonded in flesh as well as spirit, then perhaps my shyness will fade. Then perhaps I will stand before him unashamed, unafraid, ready to be his in every way.
But for now, I cherish these small moments of privacy, these stolen minutes alone with my thoughts, washing away the blood and sweat and fear of the day, preparing myself for the night waiting for the dawn when Ravin finally returns.
---
One day before the two weeks mark, our home erupted into chaos. Word spread through the village like wildfire, carried by runners and shouted from door to door, that the delegation party was coming home. The king was returning. Ravin was returning.
Lisa transformed into a whirlwind of command, her voice sharp and decisive as she directed servants to hunt fresh game, to prepare the great hall, to air out the finest furs. In the midst of this storm of activity, I met her other mates for the first time, two men I had not known existed in her household.
Victor was a peacock beast, and the description fit him perfectly. He was pretty in a dramatic way, with iridescent hair that shifted between blue and green in the light, high cheekbones, and a bearing that suggested he knew exactly how attractive he was. He moved with deliberate grace, every gesture theatrical, every glance calculated. Beside him stood Bane, a wolf beast with silver threaded through his dark hair and eyes that held the same kindness I had seen in Lisa, but with a wild edge. They were both handsome, both clearly devoted to her, and both had been away traveling with their children to visit their father’s homeland.
They had returned with two sons I had never met. Marcus was a teenager, pretty like his mother and Victor, with the same lean frame as Leon but with striking purple hair that fell to his shoulders, a gift from his peacock father. He regarded me with curious, assessing eyes, polite but distant. Then there was Lyle, a young boy around ten years old, all energy and bouncing enthusiasm. His wolf ears, inherited from Bane, perked up constantly in curiosity as he darted around the chamber, asking questions about everything, including me.
"Are you really my brothers mate?" he asked, his nose twitching.
I laughed, crouching to his level. "I am. And I am very happy to meet you, Lyle."
The entire family threw themselves into preparations. Victor arranged flowers with artistic precision, Bane oversaw the roasting pits, Marcus helped carry heavy stores, and Lyle ran messages between adults too busy to walk. I watched them work together, this complex web of relationships, and felt a strange warmth. This was what I had committed to. This beautiful, complicated, loving chaos.
I went back to our den, my heart hammering with anticipation. Leon was sitting up, attempting to dress himself, his face set in concentration as he struggled with the clasps.
"Let me help you," I said, moving to his side.
I dressed him carefully, checking that his bandages were secure, that the linen wrap would not shift as he walked. His shoulder was healing well, the scar still raised and pink but closed, functional. He could walk with more strength now, his steps steady, though his injured arm still hung stiff at his side. He winced when he moved it too quickly, the muscles and tendons remembering the trauma.
"There," I said, smoothing the fabric over his chest. I smiled up at him, unable to contain my excitement. "Let us go. Ravin will be here soon. Let us go greet him."
Leon nodded, his dark eyes softening as he saw my eagerness. "You have missed him."
"Every day," I admitted, helping him to his feet, supporting his uninjured side. "But I have had you to care for. That made the days bearable."
We made our way slowly up the hill behind the main den, the highest point where we would have the best view of the approaching party. The sun was bright, the air clear, and my heart felt like it might burst from my chest. Any moment now. Any moment I would see his golden mane, his confident stride, his face that I had memorized in dreams.
I helped Leon settle on a flat rock, then stood beside him, my hand resting on his shoulder, both of us scanning the horizon, waiting, hoping, counting the moments until our family was whole again.
I stood on that hill for what felt like an eternity, my eyes straining against the distance, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Fifteen minutes of waiting, of hoping, of barely daring to breathe. The sun beat down on us, warm and bright, but I barely felt it. My whole being was focused on the horizon, on that distant speck of movement that gradually, painfully, became clearer.
Then I saw it. A flash of gold, unmistakable even from afar. His mane caught the sunlight like a crown, and I knew. I knew it was him.
"Leon," I breathed, clutching his uninjured arm. "Look. Look there."
Leon squinted, then his face broke into a smile. "He sees us."
And he did. Even from that distance, I could feel Ravin’s eyes find us, lock onto us, and then he was moving. He started running, his long legs eating up the ground, and then in a shimmer of heat and light he morphed mid stride, his body flowing into the massive golden lion that was his other self. He was magnificent, powerful, his mane streaming behind him like fire as he bounded toward us with a speed that took my breath away.
He reached us long before the others, morphing back to human as he closed the final distance, and then his arms were around me, lifting me clean off the ground, crushing me against his chest with a force that knocked the wind from my lungs. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent, wild and masculine and home, feeling his heart hammer against mine, his hands trembling where they gripped me.
"Krys," he murmured into my hair, his voice rough with emotion. "My Krys. I missed you. I thought of nothing but you."
He let me down slowly, reluctantly, his hands lingering on my waist, and then he turned to greet his brother. He stopped cold, his expression shifting from joy to shock to fury in the span of a heartbeat.
"Leon," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "What happened?"
Leon stood a little straighter, despite the obvious pain it cost him. He met his brother’s gaze with a weak smile that tried for casual and failed. "You are looking well, brother."
"Leon," Ravin demanded, stepping closer, his hands clenching at his sides. "Do not change the subject. What happened?"
"It was Rina," I said, my voice small, the guilt I had been carrying for days suddenly too heavy to bear. I stepped forward, my hands twisting together. "It was all my fault. Because you both chose me... because I am here... they came for me, and Leon..." My voice broke, tears spilling over. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry."
"Stop," Leon interjected, his voice firm despite his weakness. He reached out with his good hand, finding mine, squeezing. "Even if you were not here, I would never have chosen Rina. This was not your doing."
"He is right," Ravin said, his expression softening as he looked at me. He pulled me into his arms again, cradling me against his chest. "Rina was never our choice. And I am glad to have you as a mate. Do not think like that ever again. We will handle Rina. We will handle all of it. You are safe now. We are all safe."
I melted into his embrace, needing his strength, his certainty, the solid reality of him after so many days of absence. I breathed him in, let his presence fill the hollow spaces inside me.
Ravin turned to look at Leon, his eyes scanning the bandages, the stiffness of his arm, the pallor of his skin. "You look a mess," he said, but there was no heat in it, only concern.
"You should have seen the other two," Leon said, and then he chuckled, a lopsided grin spreading across his face despite the wince of pain that followed. "They look worse."
"Two?" Ravin’s eyebrows rose. "You made sure to kill them, yes? Properly? Dead?"
"Yes," Leon said, his grin widening, his chest puffing with pride despite his injuries. "I killed them both. A tiger and a rabbit. Ambushed us, but I protected her. I kept her safe."
Ravin stared at his brother for a long moment, something profound shifting in his expression. Then he stepped forward, helped Leon to his feet, and pulled him into a fierce hug, careful of the wounded shoulder but tight enough to convey everything words could not.
"Well done, brother," Ravin said, his voice thick. "You did well. You survived. You protected our mate."
Leon clasped his brother’s back with his good hand, his face buried in Ravin’s shoulder. "Of course, brother," he said, his own voice rough. "Did you doubt me?"
"Never," Ravin said, pulling back to look Leon in the eye, his expression fierce and proud. "Not once."
I watched them, these two brothers, these two princes, these two halves of my heart, and felt something swell inside me that was too big for words. I squeezed myself between them, wrapping my arms around them both, though I could barely get my arms around their massive frames. It did not matter. This was perfect. This was right.
"I am glad you are both safe and sound," I murmured into the space between them, feeling their warmth surround me, their hearts beating in time with mine.
They both hugged me then, Leon with his uninjured arm and Ravin with both of his, enveloping us all in a circle of protection and love and home.
"Let us go home," I whispered, and together, we did.