Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 4-6
Page 7
“And you watched over me,” Yvonne said warmly. “Now back up and tell me the rest. What happened to Noman?”
Morgan's laugh was short and bitter. “I turned around and instead of ripping my throat out, he was lunging over toward you. It was like I was stuck in honey. Everything was a haze, and I was moving through something that was sticky and thick. It was a nightmare. I still have dreams about it. You gave me the distraction I needed. He forgot about me because he needed to... to deal with you, and I killed him.”
There was something peculiarly flat about Morgan's voice, and Yvonne looked up at him.
“Morgan?”
He winced, and he hung his head. He looked shamed. She reached out with her good hand, at least the hand that was only bruised, and touched his shoulder gently.
“Morgan, what happened?”
“I savaged him,” Morgan said tersely. “When Kiya, Benedict and Carson got there, he was... he was in pieces. Benedict told me later that they couldn't tell whether they would have to put me down, too.”
“Benedict is a self-righteous prig who doesn't know anything about anything,” Yvonne said fiercely. “I know what you were doing.”
“What was I doing?” Morgan asked, a tired smile on his lips. “Before you answer that, there was a serious question whether I was fit to be a judge after they saw the damage that I had done.”
“You were doing exactly what I did,” Yvonne said decisively, and he blinked at her.
Yvonne laughed, but then she had to stop because it hurt her ribs. Instead, she simply wheezed in place for a short period of time before reaching her hand up to Morgan's cheek and stroking it gently.
“You were just doing what I did,” she said softly.
When he looked at her confused, she laughed again, this time more careful of her ribs.
“Do you think that I would have left a single piece of that bastard whole if I had claws and fire the way that you do? Do you think that after he hurt you, I would have let him live?”
Morgan started to say something, but then he thought better of it and subsided. She smiled, thinking that there was at last a man who knew not to underestimate her because she turned into a beautiful swan instead of a wolf or a tiger or a bear.
“You're just like me,” she said, her voice soft. The ever-present weariness was back, and she could feel her vision dimming again. This time, however, Morgan smiled at her, and as she lapsed back into a healing sleep, he was holding her hand.
***
The shapechanger community was subdued for months after Noman died. People constantly called each other to check in, and stories were traded back and forth. Noman's victims were mourned, and the story of Morgan's battle and Yvonne's heroism passed from mouth to mouth.
By the time the next gathering came about, it was almost fall, and there was a briskness to the air that made everyone build the fires high. In the darkness of the forest, the bonfires threw long shadows, and the shapechangers of Harrispont, some in fur, some in feathers and some in their plain human skin, finally thought they could relax.
Yvonne took a sizzling marinated mushroom from the grill of a friendly man with a foxy grin, and she was just turning around when she ran face first into Morgan's chest.
“There you are,” he said with a scowl. “I thought I told you to stay still.”
“You tell me a lot of things,” she said pertly.
Frowning, he took her by her good hand.
There was actually very little wrong with the other one at this point. She still remembered the terror of her first flight on her mended wing, but when she gained the freedom of the air, she had known that all would be well. Now it only twinged from time to time, a reminder of one of the most frightening nights of her life. The dreams had faded finally, and now she and Morgan slept soundly through the night, nestled together in his cabin in the woods.
“I don't even think you deserve that mushroom if you're going to behave like that,” he said with a playful frown, and she laughed in his face, holding it up so he could take a bite.
“Eat it if you want,” she offered. “James will just make me another one, won't you, James?”
Morgan did his best to give the fox a stern growl, but the fox only smiled as impishly as Yvonne. “Well, Judge, you're pretty scary, but you know, Yvonne's one lovely lady. Probably couldn't deny her a thing even if it did piss you off.”
“I give up,” Morgan said, rolling his eyes. “Do what you want, eat what you like. Just give me another bite of that mushroom, it's delicious.”
Obligingly she fed him the rest and then allowed him to lead her back to the bench that they were sharing by the fire. Walking hand in hand with him amidst the people of her town, Yvonne felt a wonderful peace and calm fall over her. The air smelled of wood smoke and roasted meat, and there was a soft drumbeat as someone drummed for dancers at the next fire.
“Are you tired, love?” Morgan murmured.
She laughed, shaking her head. “This is the first party since that mess months ago. If you make me miss a second of it, I'm going to be so mad at you.”
He settled her on the bench, but to her surprise, he didn't sit down next to her.
“We're doing well, you and I, aren't we?” he asked softly. Bemused, she nodded. Morgan was a tall man, and now there was a resonance to his voice that commanded the attention of the people nearby.
In her pause, more and more people fell silent, and Yvonne realized that all eyes were on her. She blinked and looked up at Morgan, wondering what the joke was, but his face was serious, almost solemn, as he waited for her to respond.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I couldn't imagine life without you.”
“Then please let me make it official.”
Morgan dropped to one knee, and from his pocket, he pulled out a delicate wooden box. In a single sweeping gesture, he opened it, presenting it to her.
“Yvonne, will you agree to live with me forever and always as my wife?”
Yvonne was so shocked that for a moment, she was speechless. The ring in the box was a delicate silver band, and mounted on it was a milky opal. She remembered telling him that it was a sacred stone to her people because of its association with water, and now she saw how well he listened.
“Yes... oh yes, Morgan, forever!”
The clearing erupted in applause as she threw her arms around Morgan's neck. They kissed passionately, and for the rest of her life, through kisses and lovemaking and trouble and pleasure, she would always remember this moment, her lover warm in her arms, the smell of wood smoke on the air, and the pleasure that this was her life now and forever and with this man.
She clung to him as he stood, and when he sat down on the wooden bench again, she draped herself across his lap. She had been so excited that she didn't even consider putting the ring on, but now he pulled it out and slid it on her finger.
“Now there's a fine surprise for you,” he said proudly.
“I don't know, I might have one better for you,” she teased, and when he raised an eyebrow, she shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips.
“Soon,” she promised. She managed to keep from rubbing her belly the way she had been for almost two weeks now. It was too soon to be sure, but she suspected, and when her sisters had fallen pregnant, they told her that they had known early, too.
The future with her man was bright, and whether it involved beautiful swan boys or ferocious tiger daughters, she knew that she would always be with him.
TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK SEVEN: Flying High – Volume 7
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