Clipped

Chapter 48.

​The heavy oak door of Rhiannon’s chambers had barely clicked shut before a rapid, insistent knocking echoed through the room. When Rhiannon pulled it open, she was met not with a guard or a messenger, but with a whirlwind of silk and the scent of pressed lavender.

​Sora didn’t say a word. She simply reached out and hauled Rhiannon into a fierce, bone-deep hug.

​"Kael told me," Sora whispered into her hair, her voice thick with a mixture of relief and fierce pride. "My little

fairy turned into a mountain cat. You held the silver, Rhia. You took your own life back tonight."

​Rhiannon sank into the embrace, the last of the garden’s chill finally melting away. "I just did what you told me to do," she murmured. "I found the bite they didn't see coming."

​Sora pulled back, her eyes dancing with a bright, infectious energy. She ushered Rhiannon toward the hearth, where a low fire was still crackling, and sat her down. For a while, they just talked- Rhiannon recounting the weight of the silver in her hand and the way the mercenary’s eyes had gone wide when he realized she wasn't a prize. But as the fire began to burn down to embers, Rhiannon’s voice grew small, her fingers tracing the edge of her sleeve.

​"Sora... Fenris said something tonight. In the courtyard, after I accidentally hurt him. And again in the garden." She hesitated, the word still feeling like a secret she wasn't supposed to know. "He called me his mate."

​Sora froze, a teapot halfway to a cup. Her jaw dropped, and then a slow, radiant grin spread across her face.

"He said it? Out loud? That stubborn, brooding mountain of a man finally admitted it?" She set the pot down with a clatter and grabbed Rhiannon’s hands. "Oh, Rhia! I suspected Malphas was behaving like a lovestruck pup, but for Fenris to acknowledge it... that’s everything."

​Rhiannon blinked, her brow furrowing. "You’re happy? I don't even know what it means, Sora. I don't know much about... about how your people work."

​Sora settled back, her expression softening into something educational yet deeply reverent. "It’s like marriage, but deeper. Think of the looms, Rhia. A marriage is when two people choose to tie their threads together. A mate bond is when the Great Weaver has already spun your threads from the same wool."

​She leaned in, her hair charms tinkling. "For wolves, it’s the soul and the beast choosing. The pros are... well, they’re intense. You’ve felt the electricity, haven't you? The way your brain feels like it’s been scrambled when he’s too close? That’s the bond trying to bridge the gap between you. Once the bond is fully realized, you can feel their emotions- their joy, their pain, their location. A mere touch between mates feels like a lightning strike compared to a candle flame."

​Sora paused, her eyes searching Rhiannon’s. "But I’ll be honest, Rhia. I’ve never heard of a mate bond between a fairy and a wolf. It’s rare enough for different species to bond at all, but your magic and his spirit... it’s unrecorded. I don’t know what a fairy feels when the bond settles. You might be the first to ever find out."

​Rhiannon looked into the fire, her heart thudding. "It feels like Malphas is waiting for something," she whispered. "Every time I touch Fenris, or when I looked at him tonight... it felt like there was a missing piece. Like a song that hasn't reached the final note. What is supposed to happen for the bond to... to solidify?"

​Sora’s playful demeanor shifted into something more serious, more primal. "For the bond to be truly solidified- to be locked in place so that even death has a hard time pulling you apart, you have to mate. And you have to mark one another."

​"Mark?" Rhiannon repeated, her mind flashing to the jagged brands on her own skin, her breath hitching.

​"Not like that," Sora said quickly, sensing the shift. "A wolf marks his mate with a bite- a claim placed on the scent gland at the neck. It mingles the blood and the magic. But..." Sora looked at Rhiannon’s delicate frame, then at her own hands. "Again, you are a creature of wings and light, Rhia. I have no idea how you are supposed to mark an Alpha wolf. You don't have the fangs for it."

​Rhiannon looked down at her hands- the hands that had just healed a man and broken a mercenary. The static in her head was quiet, but the pull in her chest was a steady, rhythmic ache.

​"He said he had time," Rhiannon whispered. "He said he’d wait a hundred years."

​Sora reached over and squeezed her hand. "He would. But Malphas? Malphas is a wolf of the North. He’s already found his moon, Rhia. He won't want to wait a hundred years to howl."