The Choosing

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Jerath hadn’t wanted to think about that at all, but now that Serim’s brought it up he can see the resemblance between Meren and the older man he was talking to, and the familiar way they interacted. “Yeah… I do.”

  They don’t speak again for a while. The silence stretches between them as they struggle to accept their new circumstances. Jerath had been so happy just a few hours ago. He still had the issue of the bond to deal with, but Meren had wanted to spend time with him and take what they could get while they had the chance. He’d also thought they were about to find a way to help the people of his village. And now? Now it’s all fallen apart. Now they’re alone again, in a foreign land, and Jerath doesn’t think he’ll trust anyone new ever again.

  “I just don’t understand,” Serim muses. Her hand is still wrapped in Jerath’s, and her head now rests on his shoulder. “Any of it.” She moves slightly until she’s looking up at him. “I mean, why go to all that trouble to be our friends and….” She doesn’t add lovers, but she might as well have. “There are only two of us, Jerath. They could have killed us or captured us at any point after we entered their camp.”

  Jerath doesn’t understand either. His mind is stuck replaying every kiss and touch he and Meren shared. He runs them over and over and tries to see the falseness in Meren’s actions or the insincerity of his words, but he just can’t. Jerath is well aware how inexperienced he is in certain areas, but he always thought he was a good judge of character.

  “I know, Serim. None of it makes any sense.” He tucks her head into his shoulder and holds her tight—as much for his benefit as hers. “But I know what I saw. What other explanation is there?”

  Her only answer is to wrap her arms around him and sigh. Because there is no other explanation. The men who were at Jerath’s village are Meren’s people, probably led by his father and…. Jerath suddenly sits bolt upright and shakes Serim in the process, nearly knocking her out of the tree.

  “Jerath?” she hisses and clings to him for dear life. “What the—”

  “What if they’re at the village?” She looks up at him in confusion. “Ghaneth and the others? Do you think they’ve got them back at the village?” He can’t believe he didn’t think of it earlier. If Meren’s father is one of the armed men he and Serim saw at their village before they ran away, it stands to reason the raiders would be from here as well.

  Serim’s eyes go wide as saucers, flashing blue in the dark as her panther stirs beneath the surface. “Do you think they could be?” Jerath nods and she grips his arms while her body trembles as she fights the urge to shift. “May the Goddess forgive us, Jerath! We just left them.” Her nails are now the sharp claws of her cat and they dig into Jerath’s skin, but he barely notices them.

  “We need to go back.” He feels the guilt swirl deep and menacing in his gut. He’s ashamed they didn’t spare a thought for their people and just ran away to save themselves. “Now.”

  Serim’s grip tightens and this time Jerath does wince but she doesn’t let go. “We need a plan, Jerath. We can’t just rush in there, no matter how much we might want to.” He slumps back against the tree, and Serim relaxes her grip but still keeps her hand on his arm. “There are only two of us.”

  “We have to do something, we can’t just—”

  “I know that!” She looks hurt and angry and Jerath immediately apologizes. He should know better; Serim would never leave her people, especially Ghaneth.

  “What do we do, then?”

  THEY spend the next hour going through idea after idea, but each one seems just as dangerous and foolhardy as the next. They have no idea where Ghaneth and the others are being held, if they’re heavily guarded, or if they’re hurt. They’ve avoided thinking about the alternative—as far as Serim and Jerath are concerned, they’re all still alive until they see otherwise.

  Jerath has his eyes closed, listening to Serim talk through yet another plan of attack, when his spine prickles in warning. He sits up and raises his finger to his lips. It’s dark still, only the light of the moon illuminating their bodies, but Serim has no trouble seeing him and stops talking midsentence. Jerath cocks his head to the side and listens. The night is full of noises, nocturnal animals and insects going about their business, but Jerath’s listening for something else.

  He’s just about to accept that he imagined it when he hears it again. It’s faint, a way off in the distance still, but he can definitely hear voices. He looks over at Serim. Her face is a mixture of fierce determination and rage and he knows she hears it too.

  “They’re looking for us,” Jerath whispers.

  “Let them.” Serim’s voice is hard and cold, and the look on her face is one Jerath has never seen before.

  They both look toward the sound of the voices. Their eyes strain to see in the darkness, and after a few moments, Jerath is able to make out the faint glimmer of torches. They obviously aren’t taking any care to be stealthy. Either they don’t see him and Serim as a threat or they’re just plain stupid. Meren doesn’t strike him as being stupid.

  They watch and wait as the group gets closer and closer. “What do we do?” Serim’s voice is barely a whisper against Jerath’s shoulder.

  He knows they should attack—they have the element of surprise—but what if it’s Meren? He’s still Jerath’s mate. Potential mate who betrayed me, he reminds himself. But the feelings are still there, making Jerath both angry and hurt at the same time. “We wait.”

  He needs to see it for himself, up close and personal, so there’s no trace of doubt in his mind. Serim doesn’t answer. She’s tense and ready for action, but Jerath senses she’s as conflicted as he is.

  As the torches get nearer, the voices ring out clearly in the night air. Jerath recognizes Meren and Torek among them as they call out their names, over and over. He feels the familiar tug in his belly. The need to go to Meren is still there. Jerath ignores it.

  But then they hear a voice that’s impossible to ignore. It rings out clear and beautiful, and Jerath almost loses his balance at the sound of it. His breath catches in his throat and he hears Serim gasp next to him. That’s impossible.

  “Jerath,” Serim whispers. “That was—”

  “I know.”

  Mahli.

  She calls out again, telling them it’s all right. That everything’s okay and “will you please come back because I’ve fucking missed you and it’s too cold to be running about in the plains at night.”

  Jerath snorts, he can’t help it, it’s such a Mahli thing to say.

  Serim looks as though she’s about to jump down any moment and reveal their position and he knows just how she feels, but Mahli could be a prisoner too for all they know. He pulls her against his chest and tells her to wait just a little longer.

  As the group approaches the trees, Jerath recognizes a few others from his village. They’re all walking together, no sign that they’re being held against their wills, and Jerath is beyond confused. He glances down at Serim and she shrugs and shakes her head.

  “Serim, Jerath?” Mahli calls out into the night, and it’s so good to hear her voice after all this time. Jerath’s eyes fill with tears. He’s missed her so much. Serim sniffles and he squeezes her shoulder in silent support.

  “Whatever made you run away, it’s not what you think.” She pauses about twenty feet from their tree and they get a good look at her for the first time. She’s dressed in unfamiliar clothes and has a bow slung over her shoulder, just like Meren and Torek’s. Her blonde hair is wild about her face, but she looks… like Mahli. There’s no fear in her face. If anything, she looks exasperated as she calls their names again, and Jerath almost wants to laugh at the whole situation. “I’ve been working with Meren’s father, Malek. He and his people want to help us. We know where Ghaneth, Kyr, and all the others are being held, and we’re going to get them back.”

  Jerath wants to believe her, wants to believe Meren and Torek didn’t betray them and that it was all just a terrible misunderstandi
ng. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it. But something holds him back from jumping down to meet them.

  “Oh for the love of our Goddess!” Mahli shouts and throws her hands in the air. “I know you’re around here somewhere. I’m cold and tired and if you two don’t come out right this minute, I swear I will shift and hunt you down. And it won’t be pretty when I find you!”

  Serim is out of his arms before he can stop her. She drops down to the ground with feline grace and barely a sound, but Mahli spins around and screams her name. She grabs two bundles from one of the men and runs toward Serim, then drops them on the ground at her feet. They hug and laugh and Jerath smiles at their tearful reunion, but he’s still reluctant to join them.

  He looks back at the approaching group of men and finds Meren almost immediately. He’s looking around, searching vainly in the dark, and Jerath’s heartbeat falters. Meren is searching for him. He can see the look of disappointment when Meren can’t find him, and Jerath’s hand tightens on the branch beside him.

  Mahli eventually pulls back from Serim and wipes at her eyes. “Here.” She reaches down and grabs one of the bundles. She holds it out and Serim takes it, untying it carefully to reveal several items of clothing. “We found yours, and the tattered remains of Jerath’s, earlier. I brought you both some new ones.”

  Serim smiles and quickly puts them on.

  “Where’s Jerath?” Mahli finally asks as Serim gets dressed.

  Serim looks at the ground and sighs, but shakes her head. “I can’t say.” Mahli starts to speak but Serim cuts her off. “He’s hurting, Mahli. Give him time.”

  Jerath feels a fierce burst of love for her as she stands in front of everyone and refuses to give him up, even when she thinks it’s the right thing to do. Mahli’s shoulders slump and she turns back to Meren and shakes her head.

  Jerath watches Meren, unable to look away. He turns to speak to Torek, who squeezes his shoulder, then walks toward Serim and Mahli. Meren’s close now, and Jerath wants to reach out and touch him, but he just can’t do it.

  “Hey, Serim.” Meren’s voice is soft and uncertain and it sounds so wrong coming from him. “I don’t understand what happened.”

  Serim’s shoulders tense and she bristles. “Well, that makes two of us, Meren.”

  “I left you in Torek’s house to go get my father, and when I got back you were both gone.” He looks around again and scratches the back of his neck. “What happened?”

  “We saw you coming back and….” She stops and clenches her fists, and her chest rises and falls as she attempts to calm down. “The men with you were the same ones who attacked our village.”

  “What?” Both Mahli and Meren speak at once.

  Serim looks at Mahli then, pointing a finger at her as if she’s only just remembered. “What are you even doing with them, Mahli?”

  Mahli puts a hand on Meren’s arm to stop him from whatever he’s about to say. “I’ve got this.” She looks at Serim and gently takes both Serim’s hands in hers. “Serim, Meren’s father and his men came to warn us about the raiders.” Her voice cracks, and Jerath wants to pull her into his arms. It must have been twice as awful to have watched them actually being taken. “But they were just a few hours too late.”

  “Why didn’t they go after them then?” Serim snaps.

  “Because there weren’t enough of them on their own and we still had wounded to tend to!” Mahli shouts angrily, and Jerath flinches at her tone.

  “Wounded?” Serim chokes out the words. “Did anyone…?”

  “No.” Mahli’s expression softens. “No one died. But Serim, you need to trust me when I tell you that Malek only wants to help. He and his men are going to take us to get them all back.”

  Serim looks over at Meren and offers him a tentative smile.

  “Just come to the village and we’ll explain everything in the morning.” Meren smiles back when Serim nods. “What about Jerath? I don’t want to leave him out here on his own, but….” Meren sounds defeated, and Jerath has had enough of hiding.

  He jumps onto the ground and slowly straightens up to meet Meren’s eyes. The initial flash of relief he sees there is soon replaced by hurt and confusion. Jerath swallows thickly as he realizes he’s not the only one who feels as though he’s been betrayed.

  Mahli picks up the second bundle and throws it at him. She waits for him to get dressed before jumping into his arms, and Jerath stumbles back a bit at the force of her hug. She slaps him hard and shouts at him for hiding, but it’s mixed in with tears and laughter as she tells him how good it is to see him.

  They break apart when Meren clears his throat.

  Jerath takes a hesitant step toward him. “Meren, I—”

  “Let’s get back. It’s late,” Meren cuts him off with a harsh look.

  “Meren… please. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to think….”

  Meren just shakes his head, then turns on his heel without another word and walks over to join the rest of his men.

  “Come on.” Mahli follows and pulls Serim and Jerath along with her. “We’ll sort out this mess in the morning.” She leads them back over to the group of men, where they greet Caleb and a couple of others. Jerath hasn’t seen Caleb since that day at the barn with Kyr, and it’s so good to see another familiar face. They talk quietly between themselves as they start the long walk back to the village, but Jerath only half listens. He wants to know what happened, of course he does, but he can’t concentrate on anything when Meren is so close but ignoring him completely.

  Serim notices and nudges him gently. “It’ll all work out, Jerath. You two just need to talk to each other, on your own.”

  Jerath looks at the determined set of Meren’s shoulders as he marches on ahead and prays Serim is right.

  MAHLI and the rest of the people from Eladir are staying in a group of tents at the far end of the village. There’s a fire in the middle—just like Meren’s camp when they were out hunting—and Jerath feels a pang of longing.

  It’s too dark to really see much of their surroundings, but judging from the length of time it took to walk from one end to the other, Meren’s village is a lot bigger than he was expecting. Apart from Caleb, there are ten others who have made the journey south and they are all now congregated around the fire. Jerath doesn’t know the rest of them all that well, so he sticks by Serim, Caleb, and Mahli.

  It was Torek who got them settled in their tents; Meren left them as soon as they arrived back, with a nod and a curt good night. Jerath understands Meren has every right to be angry. It seems to be a huge misunderstanding, mainly on Jerath’s part, but Meren won’t even give him the chance to explain.

  He says as much to Serim, and she then points out that they didn’t give Meren a chance to explain either, and Jerath is back to feeling guilty again. The whole thing is giving him a pounding headache, and he just wants to crawl into bed.

  He’s not exactly clear on everything that’s happened since he and Serim left to go fishing, what seems like a lifetime ago, but he’s too tired to discuss anything further tonight. Someone has hastily erected an extra tent for him and Serim to share, and Jerath is initially beyond grateful, as the last thing he feels like is being alone tonight. But when he looks over at Serim and Mahli together, chatting animatedly and still with the odd burst of laughter or tears, he knows Mahli needs her more than he does.

  “Serim?” He walks over to them and plasters on his best smile. “I’m going to bed. Why don’t you sleep in Mahli’s tent tonight? I’m sure you’ve got lots to catch up on.”

  Serim immediately starts to protest, but Jerath puts his fingers over her mouth. “It’s fine, honestly.” She looks at him intently for a few awkward moments, and Jerath tries to look as sincere as possible. She must like what she sees, because she beams up at him and whispers, “Thank you,” as she hugs him good night.

  He gives Mahli a hug too, holds on to her for a moment longer than he normally would, and takes the opportunity to breathe
her in.

  “I missed you two so much,” she whispers into his chest. “I thought they’d taken you too.”

  Jerath pulls back but doesn’t let go of her. “We missed you too.” He beams at her, big and wide and it’s no effort at all this time.

  “Jerath!” Mahli squeals and points at his mouth. “When did you get your fangs and why didn’t you tell me?”

  He glances at Serim and she grins at him in return. “That’s nothing.” He lifts off his shirt and turns his back to Mahli and laughs at the shocked noise she makes when she sees his tattoo. He lets her look for a moment longer before he puts his shirt back on and turns to face her.

  She looks between him and Serim with narrowed, knowing eyes. “I want to know everything!”

  “I think I’ll leave that to Serim.” Jerath laughs at Mahli’s protests and heads off toward his tent. He has no wish to be part of that conversation.

  He’s almost there when Torek appears out of the shadows. “I know you had your reasons, Jerath. But your lack of trust hurt Meren a great deal.”

  Jerath stops and turns to face him. He fully expects Torek to be angry as well, but he just looks tired and a little sad. “I need to talk to him, Torek.”

  “Yes, you do. But he’s very stubborn.” He shakes his head and smiles ruefully. “According to Serim, you two are very similar in nature.”

  “I’m not stubborn.” Jerath will be having words with Serim in the morning.

  Torek laughs and reaches up to pat Jerath on the shoulder. “I’ll work on him tonight, Jerath.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet—he’s not in the best of moods right now.”

  Jerath watches Torek leave and then enters his tent.

  DESPITE being as tired as he is, it takes Jerath a long time to fall asleep. He tosses and turns. The magic of his bond feels unsettled and antsy while he and Meren are on such bad terms. Eventually, exhaustion wins out and Jerath finally stills underneath the fur bedding.