Page 12 of Hitched to the Wendigo (Monster Matchmaking #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sakira

My heart raced as I stood before the gathered leaders, the weight of their expectations pressing down on me like a physical force. Eryx's reassuring presence at my side was the only thing keeping me from buckling under the pressure. We were here to begin the peace talks, to forge a new future for both our peoples. And somehow, improbably, we had become the living embodiment of that future.

"Esteemed leaders," I began, my voice steadier than I felt, "we stand at a crossroads. For too long, humans and wendigos have lived in fear and mistrust of one another. But today, we have the opportunity to change that."

The eyes of everyone in the room bore into me with the stern gazes of the wendigo chieftains, the wary looks from the human elders. But I refused to falter. This was too important.

"Look at us," I continued, gesturing to Eryx and myself. "A human and a wendigo, united in love and purpose. We are living proof that our two peoples can not only coexist but thrive together. "

Eryx stepped forward, his deep voice rumbling through the chamber. "What Sakira and I have built is not just a union between two individuals, but a bridge between two worlds. And now, with the child we are expecting, we hope to create an even stronger bond."

A murmur rippled through the assembly at the mention of our unborn child. I could see a mix of emotions on the faces with curiosity, hope, and, yes, fear.

One of the human elders, a woman with silver hair and sharp eyes, spoke up. "Your union is admirable," she said, her tone conveying her unconvinced state, "but how can we be sure it's not just an anomaly?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenge. "Because we've already begun to prove it," I responded. "Our settlement is thriving, with humans and wendigos living and working side by side. We've faced challenges, yes, but we've overcome them together."

A wendigo chieftain, his ash-gray skin marked with intricate scars, leaned forward. "And what of this child you carry?" he asked, his red eyes boring into mine. "How can we be certain it will truly be a blend of both our kinds?"

Eryx stiffened beside me, but I placed a calming hand on his arm. "We can't be certain," I admitted honestly. "This pregnancy is unprecedented. But we have faith that our child will be a living symbol of unity between our peoples."

The room erupted into heated discussions, with leaders from both sides arguing back and forth. I glanced at Eryx, seeing my mix of hope and anxiety reflected in his eyes. We had known this wouldn't be easy, but the reality of the challenge before us was daunting.

As the debate raged on, I grew increasingly fatigued. The strain of the pregnancy, combined with the stress of the peace talks, was taking its toll. I swayed slightly, and Eryx's arm was immediately around me, steadying me.

"Perhaps we should take a brief recess," he suggested, his voice cutting through the clamor. "We've given you much to consider. Let us reconvene after a short break."

The leaders agreed, albeit reluctantly, and as they filed out of the chamber, Eryx guided me to a quiet corner. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low with concern.

I nodded, though I couldn't quite hide my exhaustion. "Just tired," I assured him. "This little one is taking a lot out of me."

Eryx's hand moved to rest gently on my still-flat stomach, a gesture that never failed to fill me with warmth. "Perhaps we should return home," he suggested. "You need rest."

But I shook my head firmly. "No, we need to see this through. We're so close, Eryx. I can feel it."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he simply nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "As you wish, my brave mate. But promise me you'll tell me if it becomes too much."

I agreed, and soon enough, they called us back into the chamber. The atmosphere had shifted subtly. There was still tension, but also a sense of possibility.

The silver-haired human elder stepped forward. "We have discussed your proposal at length," she began, her voice measured. "While there are still many concerns, we cannot deny the potential benefits of peace between our peoples."

The scarred wendigo chieftain nodded in agreement. "The strength of our combined forces could be formidable. And the sharing of resources and knowledge could usher in a new era of prosperity for both humans and wendigos."

My heart leapt with hope, and I felt Eryx squeeze my hand encouragingly .

"However," the human elder continued, and I felt my spirits sink slightly, "we cannot ignore the unprecedented nature of your union, and particularly of the child you carry."

The wendigo chieftain picked up where she left off. "We propose a tentative peace treaty, to be fully ratified upon the birth of your child, if it truly proves to be a blend of both our kinds."

I blinked, surprised by the proposal. It wasn't the unconditional peace we had hoped for, but it was a start. A chance.

Eryx spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "And if our child favors one side more than the other?"

There was a pause, heavy with tension. Finally, the human elder spoke. "Then we will cross that bridge when we come to it. But for now, let us focus on building the foundations of peace."

What followed was hours of negotiation, hammering out the details of the tentative treaty. By the time we finally agreed, I was swaying on my feet, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me.

As the leaders gathered to sign the document, Eryx wrapped an arm around me, supporting most of my weight. "You've done it, my love," he murmured in my ear. "You've given us a chance at true peace."

I wanted to respond, to share in his joy, but I could barely keep my eyes open. The room swam before me, and I heard Eryx's voice, tinged with alarm, calling my name before everything went dark.

When I came to, I was in our den, nestled in the familiar comfort of our fur-lined bed. Eryx was beside me in an instant, his red eyes filled with concern.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"You fainted," Eryx explained, helping me sit up and pressing a cup of water to my lips. "The healers say it's not uncommon in early pregnancy, especially given the stress you've been under. But you gave us quite a scare."

I sipped the water gratefully, feeling some of my strength return. "The treaty," I said suddenly, memories flooding back. "Did they sign it?"

Eryx nodded, a smile breaking across his face. "They did. We have our tentative peace, Sakira. You did it."

Relief washed over me, and I sagged back against the pillows. "We did it," I corrected him.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Now, you need to rest. Doctor's orders, and mate's orders too."

I wanted to protest, to say there was still so much to do, but exhaustion was already pulling at me again. "Stay with me?" I mumbled, already half asleep.

"Always," Eryx promised, settling in beside me and pulling me close.

As I drifted off, I thought of our child, the tiny life growing inside me that had already changed so much. Silently, I sent up a prayer to whatever powers might be listening. Please , I thought fervently, let this baby be healthy. Let it be the bridge our people need.

The next few days passed in a haze of sleep and quiet moments with Eryx. He rarely left my side, bringing me nourishing broths and teas, reading to me from our favorite books, and simply holding me when that was all I needed.

On the third day, I woke feeling more like myself. Eryx was there, of course, his red eyes lighting up when he saw I was awake.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, helping me sit up and plumping the pillows behind me .

"Better," I said, and I meant it. The bone-deep fatigue had lifted, leaving me feeling refreshed and eager to get back to work. "What's been happening while I've been resting?"

Eryx chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Always thinking of others," he said. "The settlement has been buzzing with news of the treaty. There's a lot of excitement, but also some nervousness. People are looking to us more than ever for guidance."

I nodded, understanding the weight of responsibility on our shoulders. "We'll need to address them soon," I mused. "Show them that we're united and committed to making this work."

"Soon," Eryx agreed. "But not today. Today, you're still resting."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Eryx silenced me with a gentle kiss. "No arguments," he said firmly. "You and our little one need your strength."

As if on cue, a wave of nausea rolled over me. Eryx was there in an instant with a basin, holding back my hair as I emptied the contents of my stomach. When it passed, he wiped my face with a cool cloth, his touch infinitely gentle.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Don't be," Eryx said softly. "This is part of the journey we're on together. I only wish I could take some of the discomfort from you."

I leaned into him, drawing comfort from his solid presence. "You do more than you know," I assured him. "Just being here means everything."

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, Eryx's hand resting protectively over my stomach. Finally, I voiced the fear that had been nagging at me. "What if something goes wrong? What if our baby isn't the perfect blend everyone's hoping for?"

Eryx was quiet for a moment, pondering his words. "Then we will love our child just the same," he said firmly. "And we will show our peoples that it doesn't matter. That love and understanding are what truly bridge the gap between us, not genetics."

His words soothed some of my anxiety, but not all of it. "But the treaty..." I began.

"Is a starting point," Eryx finished for me. "Not an endpoint. We've already shown them what's possible. Our child, whatever they may be, will only reinforce that."

I nodded, trying to believe it. Eryx seemed to sense my lingering doubts, because he pulled me closer, enveloping me in his warmth.

"Do you remember the night we first met?" he asked suddenly.

I smiled at the memory. "How could I forget? I was terrified."

Eryx chuckled. "So was I," he admitted. "Terrified of scaring you, of doing something wrong. But then you looked at me, really looked at me, and I saw something change in your eyes. You saw past what I was to who I was."

"I remember," I said softly. "It was like seeing clearly for the first time."

"Exactly," Eryx said. "That's what our child will do for others. Help them see clearly. Not because of what they are, but because of who they are. A living, breathing example of the love between us."

Eryx kissed me then, a kiss full of promise and devotion. When we parted, I felt stronger than I had in days. "Now," I said, a mischievous glint in my eye, "how about some real food? This little one is demanding something more substantial than broth."

Eryx laughed, the sound filling our den with joy. "Your wish is my command," he said, rising to fetch me a meal. "But don't think this means you're ready to take on the world just yet. One step at a time, my love."