The Choosing

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Jerath nods, not sure where Meren is going with this. “Yeah, it would, I guess.”

  “Well, I can’t leave my home, Jerath, and I don’t think I would ever want to. Just like you could never leave yours.” Meren’s hand slides down and rests on the side of Jerath’s neck. It’s warm and solid and Jerath wants it to stay there, but Meren is already pulling back. “And I would never ask you to.”

  Meren sighs and it sounds like good-bye and this is over, and Jerath’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. A partly formed bond is painful enough when broken. Jerath is just glad they didn’t go any further last night.

  “I’m sorry,” Meren whispers, and then he’s gone—back to his tent, where Jerath definitely isn’t welcome tonight.

  He’s not sure how long he sits there, but by the time he realizes he’s cold, Jerath is all alone. The rest of the men have retired to their tents and the whole camp is silent. Jerath shivers as the wind whips over his skin and tugs at his clothes. He doesn’t want to go back to Serim’s tent. He can’t face telling her what happened or the sympathetic looks that she’ll give him.

  He shouldn’t feel like this. He’s only just met Meren, but his shifter instincts have latched on and convinced the rest of him that Meren is his mate, and his heart is already heavily invested.

  The fire still burns, not as fiercely as before, but it will still offer some warmth. Jerath sheds his clothes quickly and sinks into his animal form, pulling it round him like a blanket.

  He pads around the fire on silent feet and settles nearby, close enough to feel the heat but still keeping a safe distance. He lays his head on his paws and watches the flames. Jerath doesn’t expect to fall asleep, but it’s been a long day and soon enough his eyes drift closed.

  Chapter 10

  “JERATH?”

  “Jerath, wake up.” There’s a hand stroking through the fur on the back of his neck, and Jerath’s first thought as he slowly wakes up is that it’s Meren and he pushes up into it.

  But then he realizes that the voice is all wrong, and when he finally opens his eyes, it’s Serim he sees peering down at him. He doesn’t have to tell her what happened. He’s sure she can sense the dejection rolling off him in waves.

  She rubs behind his ears. “Oh, Jerath. Why didn’t you come and find me last night?” Jerath closes his eyes and just enjoys her touch. “Come on,” Serim continues. “You need to shift back and get something to eat before we head out again.” She walks over and picks up his clothes and heads back to their tent. Jerath dutifully follows close behind.

  They only see Meren and Torek briefly before the men are ready to move out. It’s a little awkward. Torek gives Jerath a small smile and Meren is polite, but it’s a far cry from the way he greeted Jerath yesterday. It hurts, but Jerath returns the smiles and pleasantries and acts as though he’s fine. The sooner they get the help they need, the sooner they can get back to their home.

  Jerath sighs. He can’t wait to see his mother and Mahli and Kinis, and to make sure they’re all safe, but he won’t find a mate there, either. Not a male one anyway.

  Jerath and Serim travel at the back of the hunting party again, keeping out of the way and to themselves. Jerath is eternally grateful that Serim doesn’t try to talk to him about it. It’s pretty obvious that Meren was not onboard with the whole bonding-for-life idea—not that Jerath can blame him—so there’s nothing really to say on the subject.

  It’s late afternoon by the time they reach the river that separates the plains from the Southern lands. The bridge they’re going to cross spans the narrowest crossing point, and according to what Torek told him yesterday, it’s about an hour’s journey from Chastil.

  Meren calls them all to a halt and walks back through his men, talking to each group in turn. Jerath shifted into his jaguar form about five miles back. He pads along at Serim’s side, his senses alert for any trouble. When Meren gets to Serim and Jerath, he lifts his hand as though he’s going to stroke along Jerath’s back, but he catches himself in time and crosses his hands behind him. Jerath lets out a low whine and swishes his tail, but it’s Serim’s hand that reaches out to soothe him.

  Meren talks to Serim but his gaze remains on Jerath. “The bridge is still up, but the water level is higher than I was expecting. We need to be careful. I’m not sure how stable the ends are.”

  Serim nods her understanding and Meren returns to the front.

  The horses pulling the stored meat and the camp supplies are led across first—one at a time—and everyone holds their breaths until all the wagons are safely across. The rest of the men start to walk over and the bridge sways and wobbles, but holds firm. Only Serim and Jerath are left to cross.

  Jerath growls low in his chest as they approach the bridge. He prowls along the edge of the bank, looking at where the bridge is secured by heavy ropes and timber. It’s wider than Jerath was expecting, about ten feet across and thirty feet long. It looks sturdy enough, but something makes Jerath’s hackles rise.

  Serim ruffles his fur and steps onto the bridge. “Come on, Jerath. If it can hold the horses and all that meat, it can definitely hold us.” She starts to walk across and he has no option but to follow.

  The men stand around chatting over on the other bank, only a couple of them watching their progress. They’re about halfway across the bridge when Jerath notices Torek and Meren talking animatedly at the far end. Torek points at the ropes, then back to the water and shakes his head. There’s a faint sound, a low-level hiss and whine, and Meren’s eyes snap up to meet Jerath’s.

  “Run!” Meren steps forward, but Torek immediately pulls him back. “The rope’s unraveling! Run!” His words are followed by the sickening sound of rope snapping, and the bridge trembles under them.

  Jerath roars, shoving Serim with his shoulder until she starts to run. He bounds along beside her and reaches the other side in three easy strides. He only realizes he’s overtaken her when he sees she’s not there with him.

  “Jerath!” She screams his name, and then everything falls apart.

  He whirls around in time to see one side of the bridge drop down by about a foot, and the wide, wooden slats tilt at a crazy angle. Serim struggles to stay upright, but the bridge sways dangerously in the wind. She loses her balance and tumbles over the edge toward the swirling river below.

  Jerath charges after her, his claws scratching for purchase in the wood as he skids to a halt where she went over. She’s hanging on with one hand, but her fingers are slipping and the terrified look on her face makes Jerath’s blood run cold. He can’t help her in this form; he needs his hands to grab her and pull her up. It’s dangerous to shift like this, but Jerath has no choice. He hooks his claws over the upper edge of the wood, hopes his fingers will be able to catch hold of it when he’s human, and shifts.

  It’s disorienting for the first few moments, as Jerath struggles to get his bearings, but then his hand closes around the wood and he hangs on tight, ignoring the splinters that tear into his fingers.

  “Jerath… hurry!” Serim’s panicked voice calls from below. Jerath clings to the slanting wooden panels as he inches his way down toward her.

  He wedges his hand as far as it’ll go in the gap between two of the slats, wraps his arm around the wide panel and holds on for dear life as he slowly extends his hand down to Serim. “Grab it and pull yourself up.” Serim is strong, and Jerath is eternally grateful for all the chores they’re made to do back home because she needs every bit of that strength as she grabs his hand and hauls herself up his body and onto the bridge.

  “Get to the bank; I’ll be right behind you.” He watches her scramble back over to Meren and Torek, sighing in relief as they pull her onto the bank. He hooks his other arm over the panels and is just about to climb back up when he hears another snap of rope and the whole right side of the bridge falls away, jolting Jerath hard. He loses his grip on the wood and is helpless to stop himself from sliding into the turbulent waters below.

  Jerath
gasps in shock as he hits the cold water and desperately pulls in a lungful of air before the current drags him under. He struggles to find the surface again. His muscles are stronger since he went through the Choosing, but it still takes everything he has to break free of the water. It rushes into his lungs as he’s dragged under again.

  He kicks hard for the surface, making one last attempt to get the water out and some badly needed air in. As his head just about clears the water, he’s vaguely aware of someone screaming his name, a raw and desperate sound, and he thinks it’s Serim, but he’s never heard her voice sound like that before. Jerath slips back under, his arms and legs burn with the effort to keep from drowning. He tries to think of a way to get out of this, because there’s no way he’s going to die here, so far from home with so much of his life ahead of him. He’s just about to shift—jaguars are good at swimming and he might stand a better chance despite the risks involved in doing it like this—when he’s pulled back sharply as strong arms wrap around his body and crush him against a warm, firm chest.

  Jerath holds on tight as he’s dragged backward through the water and up onto the grassy bank of the river. He collapses against the body underneath him, gasping and coughing as he tries to breathe and expel water at the same time.

  “Jerath! Jerath!” He hears Serim shouting moments before he’s covered in hugs and kisses. He lets her gently roll him off his rescuer and onto his side, coughing up more water as she frantically checks him over for any injuries. “I was so scared,” she sobs into his shoulder, and Jerath just about manages to reach up and stroke her hair.

  When he’s finally gotten all the water out of his lungs, Jerath gingerly sits up and bats halfheartedly at Serim’s hands as she tries to help him. “I’m okay, Serim.” He pulls her in for a fierce hug before turning to thank whoever pulled him out.

  He gets as far as saying, “Thank y—” before Meren has his hands on Jerath’s face and pulls him into a kiss that leaves him breathless all over again.

  Meren rests his forehead against Jerath’s. “Fuck… Jerath. I thought we’d lost you.” Jerath pulls back to look at him and sees that Meren has his eyes closed as he speaks, and Jerath watches the way he trembles with each word. “You disappeared under the water and I… fuck.”

  Jerath puts his hands on Meren’s waist and feels the thick rope still tied around him. “You pulled me out?”

  Meren lets out a breathy laugh. “I just jumped in after you.” He waves a hand behind him. “My men pulled us both out.”

  When Jerath looks up, there’s a group of men watching them curiously from a few feet away. He smiles gratefully and thanks them for saving his life, before returning his attention to Meren.

  “Thank you for saving me.” He tries again, and this time Meren just stares at him and runs his thumb across Jerath’s bottom lip. “But I don’t understand….” He reaches up and takes hold of Meren’s hand. He hopes he won’t have to explain that he doesn’t understand the kissing and the touching after what happened last night, hopes Meren will just know.

  “When I saw you fall into the water….” Meren stops and swallows. “I felt… I felt like a piece of me was being ripped apart. The thought of losing you physically hurt, Jerath. I don’t understand it either, but at the moment I don’t really care.” He takes another deep breath and twines his fingers with Jerath’s. “I still don’t think we should bond, Jerath. There are too many reasons why that wouldn’t work. But we can just have this.” He gestures between the two of them. “For now. If you want to, that is.”

  Jerath stares at him for a long time. He knows this is a bad idea. It was hard enough to be apart from Meren when they’d only had one night together. Even if they don’t do everything to satisfy the bond, Jerath thinks it will be just as bad when he eventually has to leave. He can feel the magic under his skin already, reaching out to wrap around Meren and tie Jerath to him. He knows it’s probably the worst decision he’s ever made, but he lets the smile spread across his face. “Yeah.” He pulls Meren closer and kisses him. “I want to.”

  THEY stay by the river for about an hour or so, judging by the sun’s position, while everyone recovers from Jerath’s rescue. It’s an hour they weren’t expecting to waste, and it’s nearly dusk by the time they reach Meren’s village. Jerath is more exhausted than he’s ever been, the events from earlier starting to take their toll, and he leans on Serim while they wait for Meren and Torek to go and see Meren’s father.

  They’ve been left to freshen up in Torek’s home, a small but well-kept house on the outskirts of the village. Jerath wishes he had enough energy to appreciate the beauty of Chastil, because he’s sure it’s just as lovely as Meren described, but he’s so tired. He and Serim wash up as best they can and then collapse onto two of the chairs around Torek’s kitchen table.

  “Are you okay?” Serim runs her fingers through Jerath’s hair and he rests his head on her shoulder.

  “Yes, just really tired. I think I could sleep for a week.”

  Serim laughs, but pulls him tighter against her. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Jerath.” She whispers it into his hair and he can hear the tremble in her voice. “Promise me.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He stands up and presses a kiss to her forehead. “It’s not something I want to repeat anytime soon.” He grins and she must feel it because her fingers dig into his ribs, making him yelp.

  “So.” Serim looks up at him and smirks. “You and Meren, then?”

  Jerath blushes and ducks his head, but he can’t hide the huge smile that spreads across his face. “Yeah.”

  “So he’s okay with the bonding?”

  “No, he still doesn’t want that.” Jerath refuses to think about that part, though. He has him for now and that’s something he never thought he’d get, so he’ll take what he can.

  “But, Jerath—”

  “It’s fine, Serim. It’s what I want.”

  She looks as though she wants to say more, but Jerath gives her his best “Please, I don’t want to talk about it” look, and she lets it drop. But Jerath isn’t stupid enough to think she’ll let it go entirely.

  They sit in silence for a while until Jerath gets tired of waiting.

  “They’ve been gone awhile.” He walks over to one of the windows and peers out, but the area outside is strangely deserted. “Do you think everything’s okay?”

  Serim joins him at the window. “I don’t know. It’s far too quiet out there, Jerath. I don’t like it.”

  Jerath shares Serim’s unease. Something just doesn’t feel right. “Come on.” He walks over to the door and eases it open. “Let’s go find out.”

  They hug the sides of buildings as they head to what they hope is the center of the village. Jerath isn’t exactly sure when they decided to hide, but his unease is growing and the unfamiliar surroundings only add to it.

  There’s movement up ahead as Jerath peeks round the side of a seemingly empty building. They haven’t seen a single person so far, and Jerath’s senses are on high alert. He pulls Serim back against his chest as she leans out to have a look. “Careful,” he whispers.

  They watch as the men get closer and closer, until Jerath can finally make out their faces. His blood runs cold at the sight, and he growls low and vicious as he recognizes the strangers they saw coming out of the barn in Eladir. The same people who helped kidnap Kyr and Ghaneth and countless others.

  “Jerath.” Serim snarls his name as she recognizes them too. “Meren is with them.”

  He scans through the men until he sees Meren. For a moment Jerath is terrified that they’ve raided his village too and are holding him captive, but Meren is smiling and laughing, and Jerath feels the bile rise up his throat as he struggles not to be sick.

  “We need to go. Now!” Serim is already stripping so she can shift as Jerath just stares at the group of men, unable to tear his gaze away. He can’t believe he felt the magic of the mating bond for someone who… who…. Jerath struggles to accept that Meren
knew all this time. That everything since they met him has been a lie. He thinks about their night together, his stomach churns, and he doubles over and retches.

  There’s a low rumble from beside him and Serim’s black panther nudges his legs. Her tail swishes furiously and her eyes flash. Her whole body is screaming, Come on.

  Jerath rips his clothes off, not caring if they’re ruined, and shifts. He spares one last glance for Meren—his heart shattering as he watches them all together—and then bounds after Serim and out of the village.

  Chapter 11

  THEY run for what seems like hours, but Jerath knows it’s only been a fraction of that time before Serim suddenly stops and turns to face him. She immediately shifts and Jerath reluctantly does the same. He feels horribly exposed like this, but it’s obvious that Serim wants to talk.

  She’s chosen a good spot; they’re in the middle of a small group of trees, which is rare out on the plains, and Jerath follows her as she climbs up the nearest one to hide in the safety of its branches. It’s cold now that they’re human again and the bark is rough against Jerath’s skin, but in light of what has just happened, he hardly feels it. He doesn’t feel much apart from a growing numbness spreading out from his chest.

  “What just happened, Jerath? What were those men doing in Meren’s village?” Serim’s voice comes out urgent and desperate. Jerath wishes he could reassure her, tell her they must have misunderstood and that they should go back, but he just can’t.

  “I don’t know.” He rests his head against the thick trunk and sighs. “But you saw them, Serim. They looked comfortable with each other, they weren’t strangers. Which can only mean…?” He doesn’t want to finish that sentence, doesn’t want to say it out loud.

  “That they’re from Meren’s village,” Serim finishes for him. She reaches out and takes his hand. “Meren’s father… you don’t think he’s…?”