Page 21 of Where the Shadows Land (Garden of Hope #1)

The two remaining harpies struggled against the mycelium, but only one pulled free. She flew forward, talons at the ready, but Mairuk dodged her at the last moment. Her second attack went wide, but her third tore their arm to shreds with a heavy swipe of her talons.

Mairuk grabbed the beast’s leg with their other hand and threw her into the still-bound body of her sister.

They held out their uninjured hand, and a blade made of ice-blue water formed from the rain.

Half the length of their arm, with the power of a tempest roiling within, it hummed with the sound of the sea.

Mairuk leaped forward and brought the weapon straight down the neck of the free harpy and sliced it into the shoulder of the one still trapped.

Mairuk made quick work of the final harpy who never freed herself from the mycelium. They sliced her from navel to chin and let her innards fall into a steaming heap on the forest floor. Bloodied, panting, and under the heavy strain of maintaining their magic, Mairuk sank to their knees.

Pain bloomed all across their body and they groaned.

They dismissed their blade and the mycelium.

The white, gooey strands slowly sank back into the dirt and freed Astoria from their protective prison.

She fell to the ground in a bloody, sobbing heap.

Slowly, Mairuk rose to their feet and lumbered toward Astoria.

Her green eyes met theirs, glistening and red from her tears.

“Forgive me,” she said. Astoria choked her words out between sobs, so strangled Mairuk almost didn’t understand her. “I’m sorry.”

“We made a pact, Astoria. Blood once given can’t be taken back,” they said.

It was the truth. Astoria’s blood belonged to them, she forfeited it when she ran.

It poured from her too freely. If they did not act, death would claim her before they could.

Mairuk knelt down and took her blood-soaked arm in their hands.

Slowly, they licked up the red that stained her moon-pale skin.

Her blood tasted so much like her pretty mouth, like the sweetest berries at the peak of summer under the sharpness of the copper.

A low sound rumbled deep in their chest. “Your life is ours.”

“I know,” Astoria panted. “I’m not begging for my life, Mairuk, I’m asking for your forgiveness. My cowardliness made me act unfairly to you. I’m glad that my life will end by your hand. It’s no less than what I deserve for all I have done.”

Astoria straightened her neck and her eyes fluttered closed.

Her tears slowed to a trickle, and the sobs eased into soft, hiccuping cries as she waited for their final blow.

Killing her would be easy. The lightest pressure from their hand could snap the delicate bones of her neck.

They stroked it with their long fingers, stopping over her pulse point, and tilted their cap.

They could shove their fist into her chest, rip out her heart, and drink blood straight from the artery.

Or they could lick up all the blood pouring out of her and let death come slow.

They could allow the chill to sink deeper and deeper into her flesh until her spirit found the reaper who would take her away.

Killing her was so, so, so easy. The easiest thing Mairuk had ever done.

Yet, without her, they would be alone again.

An empty garden with no other sprouts was no place to seed young.

They would need magic, and the land was barren.

Mairuk couldn’t protect them alone. These reasons were the same as the ones that stopped them from seeding young before.

Astoria’s breaths rattled in her lungs and the little color that was there faded slowly from her already pale skin. Mairuk’s chest clenched. Astoria’s fading life held a mirror to the truth that Mairuk never wanted to see.

They were alone, and unless something changed in the garden, they always would be.

Battles and blood scarred the land, and it grieved as much as they did.

Astoria promised company. Life. Companionship.

In truth, Mairuk never wanted Astoria to die.

Not when they met, and certainly not now.

The promise of companionship, no matter how tense, was better than the blissful flavor of her blood .

They placed their arms on either side of her head, then leaned down and let their mouth hover over hers. “You will not die today, our vixen. May we heal your wounds with our magic?” May we touch you?

Astoria’s eyes opened wide. The wavering calm she clung to broke, and she sobbed. Her small arms reached up toward them, her soft fingers splayed over their chest. “Please.”

“It will make you want to touch us and fog your mind,” Mairuk said, reminding her as much as themselves.

“Please,” she begged.

Mairuk planted their lips on hers and coaxed her mouth open.

They breathed the Orsea deep into her and called upon the life within her to mend.

To ease. To make her whole again. Each breath was a prayer, each pulse of magic pulled more of her back to them.

Verdant green light swirled around them, healing her as Mairuk gave every last drop of the magic they had left.

Mairuk would need to hunt again in the morning, but that did not matter to them.

The excess energy usage was worth it to keep their human breathing. To keep her at their side.

Mairuk pulled away and checked Astoria over. The bleeding stopped and her general healing progressed nicely. She would remain injured for a few weeks, but she would live. That was all that mattered.

Astoria’s eyes fluttered open, and her soft palm cupped their face. Warmth returned to her fingers as she rubbed her thumb over their cheek. Her eyes, still glossy with tears, were blown wide, but soft as they gazed up at her.

“Come, little vixen.” Mairuk lifted Astoria into their arms and stood slowly.

Though their wounds bled, it wasn’t anything serious.

Their body would regenerate in a few hours.

The wound on their cap would take a few days, but it would heal.

The fight drained Mairuk and their body ached all over, but they would not let go of their human.

With their strength, carrying her made no difference.

Her arms snaked around their neck and she hummed against their chest.

If Astoria’s blood belonged to Mairuk, then they would keep it safe. They would protect her and kill anything that dared try to harm her or take her away from them. Astoria of Leilan was theirs, and they refused to let her go.