Episode Ten We Begin

E ldar

The naga, Szoka, and the griffon, Boreas, are so eager to touch the female that she's now draped across both their laps. There's a scarcity of females Down Below. Whatever happened in the cataclysm must have changed the ratio of male to female children. Luckily, females give birth to litters most of the time or the population would have dwindled to nothing.

Every male Down Below grows up wanting a female mate, as did I. My gaze flicks to Zoron, his muscled hindquarters straining as he pulls the six of us in this wagon across the forest floor without even a path to follow.

I'm holding the proudborn in my lap to protect him from every bounce as the wagon judders its way through the forest underbrush.

The female, whose name is Lylah, hasn't opened her eyes since we carried her to the cart. The male is conscious but keeps his eyes closed and can't stifle his little grunting moans every time the wagon hits a big bump.

"Your name?" I ask. "I'm Eldar. The centaur is my mate, Zoron."

"Hazlan. Lylah and I mated last night." He manages a scoff. "I thought I could save her."

"I haven't seen the medic do this Energy Transfer, but Azael, the male in charge of the rescue, told me Reese saved his mate's life this way." I reassure the proudborn.

"Good." The word is little more than an exhale.

"Do you… do you want another mate?" I ask, my brow furrowed at the thought.

"No, and definitely not two of them. But I'll do anything to keep her alive."

His mouth seems dry and his lips are cracked. I open a water bottle and let him drink his fill since the orc returned and supplied the wagon with food and water.

"Lylah." He points to the female with his chin, wanting someone to give her water. His golden gaze is filled with affection.

I hand the water bottle to Szoka and watch as he tenderly helps her drink. He may be young, but he'll treat her like the precious commodity she is. That's good.

Finally, we arrive at a small hut. Zoron and I have stayed many a night in places like this. Many of the buildings in the great old cities have fallen to the ground, but these little places out in the middle of the woods were built to last.

The medic and Zoron enter first while the rest of us wait. When they've made certain there are no uninvited guests, we carry Hazlan and the now unconscious Lylah inside to find Reese lighting a fire in the fireplace and Zoron shaking out the furs the medic brought with him when he readied this place.

There's an old bed he must have stuffed with fresh moss, but it isn't big enough to hold the four of them, so the mattress is pulled onto the floor and covered with furs before we lay our two patients on it.

Reese motions the naga to sit next to Lylah and the griffon next to her mate. He sits cross-legged in front of the four of them while my mate and I watch from across the room, holding hands.

"I hate to do this without her consent," Reese says, the corners of his mouth turned down as he thinks.

"I give consent for both of us," Hazlan says with effort. "If not, do what you must to wake her."

The medic pulls a small clay pot from one of the pouches tied to his waist. After pulling the cork stopper, he swipes the contents onto a tiny twig, then holds it under the female's nose. It's the smallest bit of a waxy compound, but is so pungent all of us shake our heads to remove the stench.

She wakes long enough for Reese to explain the procedure, then gives the proudborn a questioning look.

"I agreed, Lylah. You'll die otherwise. I'd rather share you than lose you." His words are so poignant, his look so sincere, his mate relents, whispers "yes," then falls back to unconsciousness.

"We begin," says Reese without a moment's hesitation.