Page 13 of Hitched to the Wendigo (Monster Matchmaking #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Eryx

I stood atop the rocky outcropping, surveying the sprawling expanse of our territory below. The wind whipped through my long hair, carrying with it the scents of pine, snow, and the faint musk of our people. My people. Our people. The distinction was becoming less clear with each passing day, and that thought filled me with both pride and trepidation.

"Eryx," Sakira's voice called from behind me, pulling me from my reverie. I turned to see her making her way up the steep path, her movements slower and more deliberate than usual because of her advancing pregnancy. Even with the added weight and awkwardness, she moved with a grace that never failed to captivate me.

"You shouldn't be climbing up here in your condition," I admonished gently, moving to help her the rest of the way.

She rolled her eyes at me, a gesture I found equally endearing and exasperating. "I'm pregnant, not invalid," she retorted, but she accepted my hand. "Besides, I couldn't miss this. Today's a big day. "

I nodded, my expression growing serious as I turned back to face the gathered crowd below. Humans and wendigos alike had assembled, their faces turned expectantly towards us. We had been working towards the official declaration of our new territory laws for months.

"Are you ready?" Sakira asked, squeezing my hand.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "As I'll ever be," I replied, then stepped forward to address the crowd.

"People of the united territories," I began, my voice carrying across the mountainside. "Today marks a new chapter in our shared history. For too long, humans and wendigos have lived apart, separated by fear and misunderstanding. But no more."

I paused, letting my words sink in before continuing. "From this day forward, our lands will be governed by laws that protect and serve all who dwell here, regardless of species. These laws have been crafted with input from both human and wendigo representatives, and they reflect our shared values of respect, cooperation, and peace."

As I outlined the new laws, I could see a mix of emotions playing across the faces below. There was hope, excitement, but also uncertainty and, sometimes, outright skepticism. I didn't blame them. What we were attempting was unprecedented, and change never came easily.

"Furthermore," I continued, my voice growing stronger with conviction, "we will be establishing safe passage through the mountains for all who wish to travel between our territories and those of our neighbors. No longer will these peaks be a barrier between our peoples, but a bridge."

A murmur of approval greeted this announcement. The treacherous mountain passes had long been a source of conflict and danger. Opening them up would not only improve trade but also foster greater understanding between our communities.

"To oversee this initiative," I said, turning to gesture at Sakira, "I am appointing Sakira as our tribe's official healer and ambassador. Her knowledge of both human and wendigo medicine, coupled with her diplomatic skills, make her uniquely qualified for this role."

Sakira stepped forward, her face glowing with pride and determination. "I am honored to accept this responsibility," she said, her clear voice ringing out. "And I promise to serve all our people to the best of my abilities."

The crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt a surge of love and pride for my mate. She had come so far from the frightened human I had first encountered, and her strength never ceased to amaze me.

As the noise died down, I raised my hand for silence. "There is one more announcement," I said, my voice softening slightly. "As many of you know, Sakira and I are expecting a child that will be born of both wendigo and human blood."

I paused, letting the weight of this statement sink in. "To accommodate our growing family, and to symbolize the union of our peoples, we will be expanding our den. But this expansion will not be just for us. We will be creating communal spaces where humans and wendigos can gather, learn from each other, and build the bonds that will carry us into the future."

The response to this was more muted, tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. I understood their hesitation. The idea of humans and wendigos living in such proximity was still foreign to many.

"I know that these changes may seem daunting," I acknowledged, my gaze sweeping across the assembled crowd. "But I believe in us. I believe in our strength, our resilience, and our capacity for growth. Together, we can build a future that honors the best of both our traditions while forging a new path forward."

With that, I stepped back, signaling the end of the formal declarations. The crowd dispersed, breaking into small groups to discuss what they had heard. I turned to Sakira, searching her face for her reaction.

"You did wonderfully," she said, her green eyes shining with pride. "They're with us, Eryx. I can feel it."

I nodded, allowing myself a small smile. "It's a start," I agreed. "But we have a long road ahead of us."

Over the next few weeks, we threw ourselves into implementing our new initiatives. The work was challenging, but exhilarating. Every day brought new triumphs and new obstacles to overcome.

Establishing the safe passage through the mountains proved to one of our most arduous tasks. The terrain was treacherous, and centuries of distrust had left the area riddled with hidden traps and defensive fortifications. We had to dismantle these while ensuring the path remained safe from natural dangers like avalanches and rock slides.

I spent long days in the mountains, working alongside mixed teams of humans and wendigos. It was hard, physical labor, but it was also deeply rewarding. As we worked, I saw bonds forming between members of our two species. Humans marveled at wendigo strength and agility, while wendigos gained a new appreciation for human ingenuity and problem-solving skills.

One particularly memorable day, we encountered a massive boulder blocking a key section of the path. The wendigos among us tried to move it with brute force, but it wouldn't budge. Just as we were about to give up, one of the human workers suggested using leverage.

Under her guidance, we constructed a makeshift lever using fallen trees and rocks. Working together, humans and wendigos combined their strength and skill to shift the boulder, clearing the way. The cheer that went up when the rock finally moved was one of pure, shared triumph.

As we made our way back to the settlement that evening, I overheard a young wendigo chatting animatedly with a human about different engineering techniques. The sight filled me with hope. This was exactly the exchange we had been working towards.

Back at the settlement, Sakira was making progress of her own. She had thrown herself into her new role as tribe healer and ambassador with characteristic determination. I often found her in deep discussion with both human and wendigo healers, combining their knowledge to create new, more effective treatments.

One evening, I returned from the mountains to find her excitedly poring over a comprehensive book filled with hand-drawn diagrams and notes.

"Eryx, look at this!" she exclaimed as soon as she saw me. "We've made a breakthrough in treating wendigo bloodlust. By combining certain human herbs with wendigo hunting techniques, we've developed a method that helps control the urges without dampening other senses."

I leaned over her shoulder, examining the complex diagrams with interest. "This is incredible, Sakira," I said, feeling a swell of pride. "You're changing lives with this work."

She beamed up at me, her hand unconsciously moving to rest on her growing belly. "It's not just me," she said. "It's all of us, working together. That's the real miracle. "

As the weeks turned into months, our den expansion project took shape. What had started as a simple idea to accommodate our growing family had evolved into something much more ambitious.

We carved out new chambers in the mountainside, creating spaces that blended wendigo and human architectural styles. There were cozy nooks suited for human comfort alongside open, airy spaces that appealed to wendigo sensibilities. At the heart of it all was a large central chamber, designed as a meeting place where both species could gather.

The project became a community effort, with humans and wendigos working side by side.

One day, as I was overseeing the construction of a new healing chamber, I overheard a conversation between a young wendigo and an elderly human stonemason.

"But why do we need to make the entrance so wide?" the wendigo was asking, gesturing at the plans.

The old man chuckled, his weathered hands tracing the design. "Think about it, lad. Your people are a fair bit larger than us humans. We need to make sure everyone can move comfortably through these spaces, regardless of size."

The wendigo's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh! I hadn't even thought of that. You humans really do think of everything, don't you?"

The old man laughed again, clapping the wendigo on the back. "Not everything, my boy. That's why we work together now."

I smiled to myself, moving on to the next task. These small moments of understanding and cooperation were what we had been working towards all along.

As Sakira's pregnancy progressed, I grew increasingly protective. I knew she was strong, but I couldn't help worrying about her and our unborn child. The uniqueness of our situation meant we were in uncharted territory, medically speaking.

One night, I woke to find Sakira's side of our bed empty. Panic gripped me for a moment before I heard soft sounds coming from the new nursery we had built next to our sleeping chamber. I padded quietly to the entrance, peering inside.

Sakira stood in the center of the room, her hands resting on her swollen belly. She was humming softly, a melody I recognized as an old wendigo lullaby. The sight took my breath away.

"Sakira?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, a serene smile on her face. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, and I felt drawn to be in here."

I moved to join her, wrapping my arms around her from behind and resting my hands over hers on her belly. "Is everything alright?" I asked, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

She leaned back against me, sighing contentedly. "Everything's perfect," she assured me. "I was just thinking about our baby, about the world we're creating for them."

I nuzzled her neck, breathing in her comforting scent. "And what do you think? Are we doing right by them?"

Sakira was quiet for a moment, her fingers intertwining with mine. "I think," she said slowly, "that we're giving them the greatest gift we can. A world where they don't have to choose between their wendigo heritage and their human side. A world where they can be fully themselves."

Her words filled me with a warmth that spread from my chest to the tips of my fingers. "You're right," I murmured. "And it's all thanks to you, my brave, brilliant mate."

She turned in my arms, rising on her tiptoes to kiss me softly. "It's thanks to us," she corrected. "To all of us. We're building this future together, one day at a time."

As we stood there in the night's quiet, our child moving beneath our joined hands, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The road ahead would not be easy. There would be challenges, setbacks, and moments of doubt. But in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that we were on the right path.

We were building a bridge between two worlds, creating a future where our child, and all children, could grow up without the burden of fear and mistrust that had plagued our peoples for so long. It was a monumental task, but standing there with Sakira, I felt equal to it.