Nemyria walked alongside the flower-lined pebbled path, running a hand along the ferns and blossoms. The sound of rushing water pricked her ears, keeping her alert, and she found herself relaxed by the scents of the fruits and blossoms.
Her half brother strode beside her, her parents a few feet behind. Her mother had stopped along the bridge, her eyes filled with wonder at the little waterfall that led to a creek that snaked around the colorful flowers and magnificent trees. The two siblings continued on, however, Favian wanting to talk to her alone.
Well, sort of alone.
Tiberius stood far enough away not to be an overbearing presence, but not far enough away to avoid eavesdropping on everything they said. He'd left his meeting early simply to be a bother.
"How do you put up with him?" Favian asked.
"He's actually quite playful when he isn't being an overprotective ass," Nemyria replied.
Tiberius snorted.
"I suppose the mating bond helps, too," Nemyria said.
"Do you love him?"
"No," Nemyria replied, "Not yet. But he is my betrothed, and I know he'd fight until his death to keep me safe, so I suppose I have some amount of affection for him."
She offered Tiberius a glance, and saw confliction in his eyes. She chose to ignore it.
"Does he treat you well?"
"Aside from the bossy, overprotectiveness, he does," she replied.
He chuckled. "Good. If he didn't, I might have to kill him."
Tiberius bristled. Nemyria sighed. "Maybe don't joke about that. Bad past, you know?"
He nodded.
"Besides," Nemyria said, giving him a half smile, "I've already got one overprotective male. I don't think I need two."
"Ah, but this is brotherly overprotectiveness, not mately overprotectiveness," he said.
She chuckled, looking up at him with joyful eyes. "Fair enough, little brother."
His grin widened, and he asked, "So, what is he like, when he's not like this?"
"Sarcastic. Playful," she replied as she looked back at him, "Late to his meetings."
He rolled his eyes. She gave him a playful grin.
"So, from what I've seen, like you," he said.
"I'm a little more... tame," she said.
He chuckled. Looking to her, he asked, "Have you Settled yet?"
She shook her head. "I know it's soon, but it has not yet happened."
He nodded. "Neither have I."
She rolled her eyes. "I can see that, Mr. Teenager."
He grinned. She laughed, shaking her head.
"Can you lie?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "But I cannot be compelled to truths."
He nodded. "So. You plan on being his queen, then?"
"It seems so, doesn't it."
"I hear werewolves have litters of up to eight," he said, "You sure you can handle that?"
"Enough about me," Nemyria said, waving the question away, "Who are you?"
He lifted a brow.
"What are you like, what do you like, what do you want," she said.
He smiled. "Ah. Well, I'll let you judge the first for yourself. I find that I enjoy quite, calm, and beautiful scenes. They make for nice sketches."
"You draw?"
He nodded. "Have been since I was a child." He looked her over, then said, "I drew you, once."
She lifted a brow.
"I asked momma what she wanted me to draw for her birthday once. She told me to draw me, then to draw a female that looked quite a bit like you," he said.
Nemyria smiled. "She cared for me, then."
"She did. She never neglected me, as much as she loved you, which I'm thankful for," he said.
"Good," Nemyria said, "You never answered the last question."
He paused, stopping in his tracks. Tilting his head back and forth, he considered it.
"All my life, the only thing I wanted was to meet big sister," he said.
She blinked. A bit of affection swelled in her chest, and she couldn't help but soften her smile. Her tail waved happily, but she asked, "How come? Or are there other things you've wanted?"
"I've never been the kind to want. I find that wanting leads to disappointment when you're constantly on the mood, so I just take what life gives me."
"Smart," she said.
"I try," he replied, "But it's why I like serene scenes. The calm makes me relax from the stress of life."
"I'm glad you found an escape," she said.
"Did you?" he asked.
She tilted her head. Even Tiberius paused.
"From the life of living on the streets. Did you ever find an escape?" he asked.
She smiled, although sadly. "No. One never does when they never have a moment to pause. I spent the majority of my time delirious and fighting to survive."
"How did you survive so long?" he asked.
She wiggled her clawed fingers at him. "These helped."
"A killer, and yet you find yourself calm and jesting," he said.
"Indeed," she said, and again found herself looling back to her mate, "Safety does things to you."
A small, small smile quirked onto his lips.
"You truly are enamored with each other, are you not?" Favian asked, chuckling.
"Not yet," Nemyria replied, "Soon, maybe, but not yet."
He nudged her toward him. "Go see, then, how soon it may be."
She chuckled. "Done being protective?"
"For now," he replied.
She offered him a dip of her head, and she departed for her Tiberius.
*
Nemyria watched her mate as he closed and locked the door to their bedroom before retreating to his closet to get dressed. Her tail swept over the soft sheets, her eyes droopy but able to see perfectly in the darkness. He disappeared into the closet, pulling the door shut behind him. She watched the door, quiet.
The slight scent of fear hung in the air. She didn't know if he knew she could smell it, but she did know it came from him.
She'd ask him soon enough.
Still watching that door, she waited. Soon, he slipped out, wearing a pair of dark sweatpants, and he strode to her bed. He eased to his knees beside her, enveloping one of her hands with his own.
"Beloved," he greeted.
"You smell of fear," she replied.
He sighed. Lifting her clawed hands to his cheek, he said, "Can you blame me?"
"Can I? They are my family," she said.
"And Demons murdered my parents. Almost made me murder my brother," Tiberius said.
"Fair enough," Nemyria said, "Are you alright?"
"I am. Are you?"
She nodded. He smiled, and he kissed her palm. She watched him, seeing that spark of worry in his eyes, her thumb stroking his cheek.
"You lie," she said.
He frowned. "I'm not lying."
"You are not okay," Nemyria said.
He hesitated. Her hand fell from his cheek as he backed away from her. Climbing into bed, he laid at her back, his arms circling her waist.
"Tiberius," she said.
He set his forehead on the base of her back.
She sighed. Her hands covered his, and she said, "Tell me, Tiberius."
"I'm afraid," he said.
"What of?"
"You leaving," he said.
She paused.
"You found your family, Nemyria, a family you seem to love. I am nothing more than a male you have a forced bond with. I don't know much of you, but I know enough to know that you have no set plans, and I am worried that you may leave me," Tiberius said.
"Would that upset you?"
"That would destroy me. Love, if you left me for a group of Demons, no matter if they were your family...," he trailed off.
She gripped his hands in a comforting squeeze. "Then I will make you a promise."
"Which is?"
"Unless you deserve it, I will never willingly leave you," Nemyria said.
He paused. "Why?"
"Because I find safety in you," she said, "Maybe it it because of the bond, maybe it is because I feel affectionate towards you, maybe it is because you are a king. But I feel safe in your presence, Toby. I will not leave that safety."
He nodded. His arms tightened around her waist, and he asked, "May I sleep in your bed tonight?"
"Why?"
"Because you make me feel safe, too," he said.
She smiled, although he could not see it.
"Will you make me a promise?"
"Anything."
"Keep your hands in an appropriate place, and you may," she said.
He snorted. "It's illegal for us to mate, Nemmy."
"Then I know you'll keep your word," she said.
He smiled. "I promise, Nemyria, my hands will not wander. And I will keep my pants on as well."
"Then you may spend as long as you wish in my bed," Nemyria said.
He smiled. One of his hands lifted to her neck, where he brushed the hair away. His lips pressed against her deer-hide skin, and he murmured, "Goodnight, my beloved."
"Goodnight, Toby," she replied.
His lips curved against her skin, and he kissed her again, this time letting his fangs run over her skin, to the vein, where he pressed one more soft kiss. She looked back at him, but she did not tense.
"You truly do feel safe with me," he said.
"You would not feed from me," Nemyria stated as if it were fact.
And it was. He never would bite her, not without her permission.
"Goodnight," she said, closing her eyes.
"Goodnight," he replied.
Quite wafted into the room, sleep soon following.