The Choosing

by Annabelle Jacobs

  “Well, according to legend, my people originally lived in the forests of Arradil as well.”

  “Really?” Jerath interrupts, unable to help himself. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Yes. Apparently, they used to hunt in the forest and pray to the Goddess. They only killed what they needed: meat to survive, and fur to keep warm. But after one particularly harsh winter, food was scarce and the wildcats of the forest became so few that the Goddess sought the hunters out.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She asked them to leave the forest and head south to Kalesaan, to make a new home where the wild animals were still plentiful. In exchange for this she promised to gift them with exceptional hunting skills and to allow them to still worship her and perform their rituals, even when they were no longer in her forest.”

  Jerath shifts closer and wraps his arm around Meren’s waist. “Maybe that’s why you can feel the bond so strongly. If we both worship the Goddess of the forest, then maybe she blesses this union after all.”

  “It’s just a story, Jerath.” Meren looks a little skeptical, but Jerath is almost certain there’s an element of truth to the tale.

  “You can sense my feelings though, can’t you?”

  “I think so. Let me….” Meren closes his eyes and Jerath concentrates hard. He lets his gaze roam over Meren’s body, lingers over his firm, well-defined stomach and chest. The heat of arousal stirs low in Jerath’s belly. He imagines all the things he wants to do with Meren and lets the feeling build and build until Meren’s breath catches and his eyes snap open.

  “Yes.” He looks at Jerath. His eyes are dark and full of want, and Jerath doesn’t have time to answer before he’s roughly pulled in for a kiss. Meren rolls him over, pinning him to the furs beneath. “I can feel you, Jerath.” His eyes are bright, full of wonder, and Jerath smiles up at him.

  He reaches up and cups Meren’s face. “I can feel you too.” It’s like a comforting warmth in his chest at the moment, full of excitement. Jerath knows Meren’s happy, can sense it, and it’s so much better than he ever imagined. “As much I would love to explore this all night with you.” He sinks his hands into Meren’s hair and kisses him again, before turning serious. “We need to sleep. Tomorrow—”

  “Don’t.” Meren kisses him again, then shakes his head. “Just sleep.”

  They settle themselves under the covers. Meren wraps himself around Jerath’s back and holds him close. It’s not long before Jerath hears soft snores as Meren drifts off to sleep, and he can let his worries surface without fear of Meren sensing them. Tomorrow will be tough to get through. They don’t know for certain how many men will be waiting for them, or even if all the prisoners are still alive. Jerath’s animal stirs, restless at the thought, and he knows the shifters will be hard to restrain if any of them have been injured.

  Meren sighs in his sleep, nudging Jerath out of his dark thoughts, and he wonders if Meren’s subconscious has picked up on his feelings. He takes a deep breath, tries to banish it all from his mind, and closes his eyes.

  The morning comes all too soon.

  “JERATH.”

  Jerath drifts awake as he hears the tent rustle. Someone enters and whispers his name again.

  “Jerath.”

  He opens his eyes and blinks a few times until he focuses on Serim’s face peering down at him.

  “Hey.” She keeps her voice low, so as not to wake Meren. “Everyone’s awake. It’s time to get ready, Jerath.” She doesn’t bat an eye at Meren being in his bed. Her face lacks the usual teasing smile she’d normally have for him.

  He nods and she quietly backs out of the tent.

  Meren’s lying on his back with one arm above his head, and he looks so peaceful Jerath doesn’t want to wake him. But he has to.

  “Meren.” Jerath leans over and kisses him softly. “Wake up.” Jerath shakes his shoulder a little and Meren opens his eyes, smiling up at Jerath until he realizes why they’re awake.

  “Fuck.” Meren scrubs a hand over his eyes and sighs. “Fuck.”

  He sits up and the fur blankets slip down to his waist. Jerath whines softly and reaches out so he can run his fingers along Meren’s exposed skin. He wants nothing more than to pull him back down and stay there forever.

  “I know.” Meren gives him a soft smile and takes hold of his hand. “I know, Jerath.”

  They don’t say anything else, and the silence hangs heavy between them as Jerath watches Meren get dressed. There’s no need for Jerath to do the same. He’ll be in his animal form from the moment they leave the village. Meren sits to pull on his boots, and Jerath feels a wave of fear and worry wash over him. He can’t be sure if it’s from him or Meren, but he draws Meren to him and hugs him tight. “Be careful.”

  Meren nods against his shoulder. “You too.”

  They stay like that far longer than they’ve got time for, until Meren eventually moves away and stands up. “I need to go back to my tent. My bow is there.”

  “See you out by the fire.”

  Jerath watches him go and his heart already aches. He refuses to think about how bad it will be if they have to part for good. He closes his eyes and lets his jaguar take over.

  NEARLY everyone is gathered by the fire when Jerath pads over on near-silent feet. There’s no sign of Meren or Torek yet, but he spots Serim’s panther and Mahli’s lynx with the other shifters and stalks over to join them. They must make for a strange sight—this many big cats standing together in the middle of a village. The hunters are clearly used to them by now; apart from the odd curious glance, no one pays them much attention. They can’t do anything other than wait at this point, since they’re unable to communicate, but they did all their talking yesterday. Each of them knows exactly what they have to do.

  Jerath reaches Mahli first and nuzzles at her. She turns and licks at his neck, greeting him with a rumbling growl. Serim sidles up next to him and knocks him gently with her shoulder. It’s still dark out and her blue eyes glow brightly, but Jerath sees the fear and nerves hiding in their depths. He whines and she dips her head and rubs at his chest. Jerath sends up a silent prayer for the Goddess to watch over all of them. They’re going to try to rescue more of her children today, so surely she’ll keep them safe.

  Malek arrives, flanked by Meren and Torek, and calls for everyone’s attention. They break off into their assigned groups, and Jerath gives one last look to his friends before padding over to join Meren.

  He walks up alongside him and Meren rests his hand on top of Jerath’s head. He strokes from his ears down the length of his back in long, firm strokes, and Jerath calms a little under his touch.

  “That’s better,” Meren whispers, and Jerath nudges against his thigh. He flicks Meren with his tail and gives a satisfied huff at the small smile it produces.

  Malek reminds them all once again of the dangers, warns of underestimating the raiders, and prays that the Goddess will see them safely home. Jerath hopes that she’s heard all their prayers as they silently set off into the darkness.

  IT TAKES them longer than Jerath would like to reach the outskirts of the raiders’ village. The shifters have no trouble seeing in the dark, but Meren and his people don’t have the added bonus of cat’s eyes. The sun is just about to rise; a red-and-golden glow barely tints the horizon when Malek raises his hand to call them all to a halt. He gestures for them to take their positions, and each group splits off in varying directions.

  They’re far enough away from the village boundaries that they won’t be heard, but everyone moves with stealth and Jerath is amazed at how little noise they make. The plan is to circle the village and come at the raiders from all sides, but they have no real idea how big it is. Malek’s hope is that they have enough people to cover the perimeter, and as Jerath follows Meren along the south side of the village, he thinks they may just be in luck.

  He can see the groups left and right of them. They’re a fair distance away, but they’re in sight nevert
heless. Malek’s instructions were clear: wait for the first rays of the sun to break through and then attack. When the prisoners are found, the shifter with that group will roar out a warning to let the other groups know. When they’ve all been freed, the shifter will roar again, and at that point everyone is to retreat and meet up at the designated spot a few miles away from the village.

  It sounded so simple when they talked it through last night. But now, as they wait for the sun to rise, it feels anything but. There are so many things that can go wrong, so many ways for this to fail, and panic flares in Jerath’s chest.

  “Hey.” Meren crouches down next to him and lays a calming hand on his shoulder. He ruffles the fur on the back of Jerath’s neck, running his fingers through it over and over. “We go in, we find them, we get out. Easy.”

  He sounds so sure and confident. Jerath can sense his nervousness underneath his words but makes no attempt to acknowledge it. Meren needs to appear strong and fearless for the sake of his men, if nothing else.

  Jerath butts against Meren’s hand and then settles down on the ground to wait the last few minutes before the sky lightens and the attack begins.

  He senses it before it happens. The air changes temperature by a degree or two, and Jerath hauls himself up and growls. Meren turns to him and his voice is so low Jerath has to strain to hear it. “Remember what we said.” His tone is laced with desperation and Jerath wants to whimper but he holds it in. “Be careful… I need you to be careful.”

  Jerath growls again and he hopes Meren interprets it as “the same goes for you too.”

  The first bursts of sunlight start to break through the darkness, and Meren signals his men to get ready. When the first ray hits the village, Meren hisses for them to attack, and they race off toward the village on silent feet.

  They reach the outer edges without being detected. From what they can see, most of the inhabitants are still asleep, and Jerath hopes that maybe they can do this without any fighting at all. But then they hear the thunder of footsteps, followed by the unmistakable sounds of battle.

  Meren abandons all pretense at being stealthy. He and his men are armed with both bows and swords, and Jerath watches with grim resignation as Meren shoves his bow over his back, draws his sword high in the air, and charges forward. Jerath is glued to his side, teeth bared and ready to attack as they slip between the crudely built homes. They spill out onto a clear stretch of what looks to be a road through the village. Jerath senses movement from behind them and spins around. He growls out a low warning as ten angry-looking raiders come barreling toward them, swords already drawn

  “This way!” Meren yells, and his unit turns as one and prepares to fight. Those at the back draw their bows and take aim, and a flurry of arrows fly overhead. Two of the raiders fall down dead and another clutches at his thigh as he stumbles, but Jerath has his sights set on the man in the lead. He recognizes him from that day in the forest and his animal side takes over, the desire for revenge thick and heavy in his veins.

  He leaps for the man’s throat, slaps his sword arm away with his front legs, and growls with satisfaction as he feels the bone crack under his paws. Jerath knocks him to the ground and sinks his teeth into the soft skin at the side of the man’s neck. He bites hard, tearing at the flesh, and the dying man’s good hand scrabbles for purchase in Jerath’s fur, desperately trying to pry Jerath’s jaws open and away. But he’s no match for the raw power of Jerath’s jaguar form, and soon enough his strength starts to fade and his arms falls weakly to his sides.

  “Jerath!”

  Meren’s voice snaps him out of his bloodlust, and Jerath carefully extracts his teeth from the body of the raider. He looks up to see that Meren’s men have dispatched the rest of the raiders without incurring any serious injuries, and Jerath breathes a sigh of relief as his gaze sweep over Meren’s body and finds him relatively untouched.

  “Which way now, Meren?” One of his men steps forward as Meren wipes the blood from his sword. Fighting can be heard in both directions along the road, and Jerath listens harder to see if he can sense who may need help more. All he can make out is the harsh cries of battle, and it’s impossible to separate the raiders from their own men.

  A loud roar splits through the sounds of fighting, and Jerath recognizes it immediately.

  Serim.

  She must have found the prisoners. Before Jerath can even start to feel any relief, another of Serim’s roars fills the air, but it’s full of anguish and pain and Jerath instinctively knows she’s found Ghaneth. And that he’s hurt.

  “Go.” Meren urges as he meets Jerath’s eyes. “We’ll follow you.”

  Jerath turns and races down the road toward the center of the village. He can hear the fighting as they get closer. It’s a mixture of shouting, cursing, and the odd snarl. Jerath can’t tell who’s winning from this distance, but when they round the last bend he almost stumbles over the lifeless body of a lynx. His heart stops beating for the entire time it takes him to realize it’s not Mahli.

  But it’s still one of his people, and he snarls with rage.

  “I’m so sorry.” Meren is beside him then, firm, comforting hands on the back of his neck. They scan the scene in front of them, gazes darting over the fighting to see where they need to help out most. Jerath easily spots the prisoners—corralled in the center like animals. Caleb and his group are fighting to get to them, and from what Jerath can see, they’re more than holding their own. He searches for Serim, unable to see her among the mass of bodies.

  “Over there!” Meren points over to the edge of the group of prisoners, and Jerath whines in panic as he sees her. She’s standing in front of Ghaneth’s prone form, snarling and braced for attack as three of the raiders advance toward her. Jerath wants to go and help her, but they suddenly have raiders coming at them from two sides and he knows he needs to stay and help fight.

  He looks back at Serim as she bravely faces the three men down. Her tail swishes furiously and her ears are flat to her head. Jerath’s torn between his best friend and his mate. The pull to stay and protect Meren is almost too strong to ignore, but Serim is going to die if someone doesn’t help her. He can’t see Torek or any of her group, and the raiders are almost upon her and Ghaneth now. Jerath tries to contain his feelings of desperation, but Meren senses it anyway.

  “Go help Serim.” Meren’s voice is strained as he fights off an attack. Jerath leaps and tears the man’s arm from his shoulder and spits it out at his feet. Meren finishes him off with a dagger to the throat and turns to push Jerath away. “Go!” Jerath growls his refusal; Meren and his men are outnumbered. “Now, Jerath! She’s going to die! We can handle these.” He shoves Jerath again before taking his bow and firing at the oncoming raiders. He takes two more of them out. “Go!”

  Jerath swallows down the pain of leaving Meren’s side, pushes the need to protect him down and out of sight as he races over to Serim.

  She’s backed right up against Ghaneth. There’s one man lying unmoving on the ground, but the other two are closing in, and there’s a deep gash across Serim’s left shoulder. It’s bleeding heavily, and there’s already a sizeable pool on the ground at her feet. She’s limping, favoring her right side, and the two raiders try to capitalize on that. One draws her out by going for Ghaneth while the other slips in to jab at her flank. She howls in pain as the blade finds its mark, and Jerath roars.

  She’s got nowhere left to go, and the raiders grin as they approach her from opposite sides. “Not so fearless now, are you, Blackie?” Serim hisses and snaps her teeth. Jerath knows the exact moment she sees him because her blue eyes flash and he swears he can see her smile. He lunges for the man on the left and bites out his hamstring while Serim takes the other from the front. Her claws tear into his belly and he screams in agony, but Serim’s limping badly now and she can’t get in a killing blow quickly enough.

  Jerath hurriedly finishes off his man, snapping his neck in one clean move, and rushes to help Serim just as t
he raider manages to raise his sword arm and take a swing at her. It would have sliced down the middle of her back, but Jerath is much quicker. He leaps in front of her, knocking the blade flying, but it glances off his side and nicks the top of his back leg. He lets out a yelp, but the pain is easy enough to ignore.

  He turns and growls as the man scrambles to back away. Jerath can taste the blood and flesh still on his teeth, and he must look a terrifying sight because the raider tries in vain to get to his feet. His wounds from Serim’s claws are too severe, though, and he stumbles to his knees with a cry. Jerath tears his throat out before he can make another sound.

  Serim has collapsed on the ground, and Jerath pads over, licking at her wounds and nuzzling under her chin. She whimpers back and looks over her shoulder at Ghaneth. Jerath follows her gaze and is shocked at the sight. They’ve only been gone just over a week, but Ghaneth looks awful, as though he hasn’t eaten in days. He has bruises all over his face and arms and four long angry welts across his back. Jerath’s anger flares deep inside him and he wants nothing more than to kill every single one of the men who did this. He wants to hunt them down and rip them apart with his teeth and—

  “Jerath… hey… calm down.” It’s Meren’s voice that pulls him back from the edge. His firm, soothing hands on Jerath’s back that rein in his temper and make him focus. “I could feel your anger all the way over there.”

  Torek is with him, and together he and Meren lift Ghaneth up. He’s barely conscious, so they have to carry him over to where the other prisoners are being escorted out of the village. Some of the raiders are still trying to fight, trying to prevent their escape, so Meren and Torek hand Ghaneth over to a couple of men from Caleb’s team and return to the fray.

  Jerath nudges Serim to her feet. She’s still unsteady, but the bleeding has slowed down considerably. He watches her back all the way out of the village. Meren, Torek, and the rest of the men follow behind. Jerath roars as loud as he can to signal the safe extraction of the prisoners and hopes the others can hear. He hasn’t seen the other groups, but has to trust they’re okay. Mahli is somewhere in this village, and Jerath refuses to believe that anything bad has happened to her.