Episode Twenty-Two Inextricably Entwined

E ldar

I think the monk medic was wrong. Nothing has changed. My bond with Zoron is no different than it was.

We saved two people's lives and now the four of us can go on as separate couples. It feels terrific. Or mayhap it's just that I feel terrific after sharing pleasure with my lover.

After crossing the stream back to the other side, we head farther south, this time veering into the woods. Both of us have bows in our hands, him pointing to our right and me to the left.

We work together wordlessly, having done this a thousand times. We're like a well-oiled machine. It's one of a million things I love about him, about us.

I'd been thinking of rabbit stew, so when I see a rabbit up ahead, I waste no time shooting at it. When I miss, Zoron pursues, easily eating up the distance between us and the little animal.

Attack! We've been attacked out of the blue. Neither of us saw or smelled anything, but I've been struck in the chest! I almost drop my bow and arrow, but I clamp my knees more tightly to Zoron, and try to see through the blurry haze of my pain. Where is our enemy?

Zoron grunts. I not only hear it, I feel it vibrate through his body and into mine.

Forcing words through numb lips, I manage, "Hurt?"

He's already slowed, but now he stumbles. From one second to the next, he's on his front knees, his back legs crumpling to the ground.

"Where are you hurt, love?" I gasp.

"Chest," he grits out.

Despite fiery pain, I ease off him and crawl toward his front to get a look at his wound. I should be vigilant for our enemy, but I have to help the male I love.

I see no arrow sticking out of his chest, nor do I smell the acrid odor of his scorched coat from laser fire. Taking a moment to glance at my own chest, I see no blood, no arrow, no wound of any kind.

Zoron is panting, his palm grazing back and forth across his chest, his eyes squeezed in pain.

"I think we've reached the end of our tether," he says.

"The matebond," I say through teeth gritted from agony.

"Mayhap it will ease if we head north," he says as he uses heroic effort to stand. "Jump on."

If he hurts half as bad as I do, carrying me will be too heavy a burden.

"Hurry north. I'll meet you," I say. When he doesn't run off, I slap his rump. The sound echoes in the quiet woods.

"Ass," he accuses as he walks northward. A minute later, I hear, "It's the matebond. I already feel better."

Holding onto this hope, I trudge toward him. Soon, I realize he was telling the truth. I can take deep breaths without spikes of pain shooting through my chest.

"Jump on," he offers when I appear.

"Fuck you, mate. You're no more capable of carrying me right now than of dancing a jig."

"I could…" he pauses, panting as he rubs his sternum with his knuckles, "jig if I wanted. I just don't want to make you… jealous."

He does something amazing like this every day. Just when I think I couldn't love him more, he gets even more lovable.

The farther north we walk, the better we feel. I manage to shoot a brace of rabbits even though I'm still moving with effort.

The closer we get to the cabin, the more I dread it. When we left, I hoped we'd be free of the pair the moment we arrived back at the Village. It's clear now, though, that the four of us are inextricably entwined.