by Forthright
“Something confident … respectful … and appropriately flattering. And specifically canine. I don’t want to insult your clan by complimenting your plumage or purr.”
The first two were simple enough. He guided her through postures, showing her the difference between his stance and hers. For this ceremony, it was his to await, hers to initiate. Which only left the flattery. Something he wasn’t used to receiving. “Compliments can take any form. Did you have something in mind?”
“I could state the obvious—beauty and good breeding. But that’s not very personal.” Kimiko’s eyes had taken on a sparkle. “But I probably shouldn’t call you an amiable slacker with a soft spot for crossers.”
He blinked. He blinked again. “That’s what you think of me?”
“It’s something I’m certain of, and it’s something I like about you.”
Quen had thought Kimiko was teasing, but she remained in the stance he’d just demonstrated—confident, respectful. She was serious?
“You adore Ever. You’re patient with Inti. And you want a family.” Kimiko’s gaze didn’t waver. “Isn’t fatherhood part of the reason you consider me suitable? Our children will be crossers. Ever won’t be alone.”
Astonishment rivaled with dismay. “I do want children. I do. I always have. But I’ve never thought of you as … as breeding stock.”
Kimiko’s laugh had a wry twist. “Eloquence, I’m a reaver. My worth to the In-between is a matter of record, based almost entirely on my breeding potential.”
He needed to correct her. He needed to be clear. But fear was boiling up inside, stealing his ability to speak. Devotion and fidelity were a mate’s due. Yet she saw herself as a means to an end. Would Kimiko understand if he told her otherwise? Or should he show her?
She was retreating again, closing off.
“W-wait,” he stammered. “Do you know how to tend?”
“I’m licensed, but my resources are minimal.” Her body language shifted—caution, reluctance, wariness. “Reavers of my rank risk rapid depletion.”
Eloquence sank to his knees, passive, submissive. “I don’t want to take. I want to give.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A human bondmate must be tended. You’re a reaver, which means our souls can meet.” He fumbled for better words. “Meet with me here.”
After a lengthy silence, she asked, “How?”
“May I touch?”
“Yes.”
Rising up on his knees, he slid his arms around her waist. “Nothing will happen at first. I’ll leave myself open. Allow the connection and use it to find me.”
“Where will you be?”
“Right here.” Eloquence hid his face against her belly. Voice muffled, he promised, “I’ll be waiting here.”
Her hands settled lightly on his shoulders. “Like tending?”
Quen’s attention had already turned inward, but he nodded. Her winter tunic was soft, and her warmth so close. It was all he could do to resist nuzzling.
She did not keep him waiting.
Kimiko’s soul was neatly defined, a quality he’d come to associate with training. He teased at the edges of her awareness, alerting her to his presence and inviting more interaction. To his relief, she didn’t shy away. Quen found her courage appealing.
Her soul didn’t dazzle like the reavers who usually found their way into Harmonious Starmark’s home. Her essence was taut and sweet, with the faint resonance, a single note, like the fading tone of a bell. The right crystal could amplify that power. With time and patience, he might be able to increase her modest reserves.
Would that please her? He wanted to please her.
As a sense of expectancy filtered through their tentative connection, he was startled to realize that nothing kept him at bay—no wards, no barriers. Were all reavers of her rank left to their own devices? Quen’s protective instincts surged with the need to see her safe.
“What’s wrong?” Kimiko whispered.
He lifted his face. “You’re so vulnerable.”
“Far from it. You should see the added security at our place.”
“Personally,” he clarified.
“It’s not a problem.” She smiled and touched his hair. “You’d be surprised how safe most of us are, living beneath the notice of peer and predator alike.”
Quen wrapped his arms more securely around her. “I could give you a sigil to carry.”
“Our Amaranthine classmates would notice. It would lead to questions.”
“I’ll ask Michael to create something.”
“That would be easier to explain.” Kimiko tugged his braid. “But I wish you’d explain what I’m supposed to be doing right now.”
He hadn’t meant to interrupt. “All you need to do is accept.”
Kimiko shifted in his grasp, trying to communicate, but he had her by the hips. Like him, she had to resort to words. “Accept what?”
“Me.” That came off sounding more profound than he intended. “Let me tend you, Kimiko.”
Her brows drew together. “You’re offering me my first taste?”
Quen hadn’t considered this situation in those terms, but she was right. “Just a taste. With your permission.”
Kimiko carefully pulled away, but then knelt with him. “Ready.”
Their hands sought each other. Their eyes closed.
He liked this calm, this closeness. But they needed trust to run deeper, bringing her light into his darkness, spangling his soul. Eloquence slowly enveloped her, tuning the howl of his wilder instincts to the note he’d found earlier. Harmonizing at first, then locking into unison.
She gasped.
Recalling all the ways Michael had been gentle with him, Quen held back all but the barest hint of his hopes, woven with a whisper of the awe he’d felt at finding a star-strewn comb upon his palm. He would be hers. He had been chosen.
Kimiko murmured his name.
“Yes?”
“Is it always so …?”
Eloquence held her close, touched her hair, kissed her cheek, and waited. So much depended on her next word. Like the grades he received in his new school. Like the ranking assigned to every reaver. Someone else was about to determine his worth.
But she didn’t pluck a word and pin it to him.
“I think,” she began solemnly. “I think I underestimated you, Eloquence Starmark.”
Something in her gaze thrilled him. It was as if she were seeing him for the first time, and it left him feeling exposed … yet hopeful.
“And I think,” she continued, “that I may have underestimated myself.”
“Oh?”
Kimiko hummed an affirmative. “As your suitor, I think I’d even tackle an impossible task in order to impress you.”
“Because you like a challenge?”
“Because I like you.” Her smile turned smug. “And because someone already did the hard part for me.”
That threw him off. “What part?”
“Your pet. I can make your childhood dream come true.”
Quen realized she must be joking. “You have a briner tank tucked away somewhere?”
“No. But we keep the north wind in a bottle.”
A fanciful notion. Nuzzling her cheek, he murmured, “A fortuitous happenstance. I can only declare myself suitably impressed. Will you demand an impossible task in return?”
Kimiko hesitated, then shook her head.
“What?” He coaxed with a pudding please. “What is my lady’s wish?”
“I think,” she said slowly, still serious. “I think it would be wonderful if someone found a way to wake Kusunoki.”
THIRTY-NINE
Star Wine Serenades
Once Kimiko was safely away with Suuzu and Akira, Eloquence changed into his truest form and loped into the adjacent woodland on four paws. Dusk had settled into darkness, but he dodged confidently through the trees, lengthening his stride, picking up speed. Kimiko would formalize her claim tomorrow evening,
but the connection they’d formed just now was a far sight more real.
Skidding to a halt and settling back on his haunches, he sang the note that still resonated through his core.
A chorus of Kith quickly joined him, their carrying howls echoing his joy.
Barking from closer quarters accompanied the bounding form of Rise. Quen turned to welcome him, setting off a grand game of tackle-and-chase through the snowy forest.
Are you happy, brother?
Quen returned to speaking form and leaned into the Kith’s side. “Happier than I know how to express.”
Because of Kimiko.
“Yes.”
Do you love her?
He tugged at Rise’s ear. “Yes.”
Do you trust her?
“Yes.”
Rise ducked his head, as if afraid Quen would lose patience with his questions. Will you tell her about me?
“Soon.” Eloquence wrapped his arms around Rise’s thick neck. “I’ll have you trade places with Edge and Flay and introduce you properly.”
I am Kith.
“She won’t mind.”
I cannot speak. Nervousness crept into his voice, making him sound younger than his years.
“Let me be your Eloquence.”
Rise butted his head against Quen’s chest. Mine.
“Yes, yours.” Taking his usual seat astride his denmate, he said, “You and Ever will always be with me, just as I’ll always be with Laud.”
Home.
“Yes, let’s go home.” As the dog ambled toward the compound, Quen asked, “If you’re here, where is Ever?”
Taken by foxes.
Quen laughed. “You make it sound so ominous.”
Rise only grunted and picked up speed.
Before long, he could hear the noise of celebration—music and laughter and song. Typical for evenings when Dad had friends over. Quen was already picking up the telltale scents of wolf, cat, dragon, and fox. “All together?” he whispered.
The Five are assembled.
“And into the star wine.” It was probably a good thing Tenma and Inti hadn’t been able to stay over tonight. Knowing this lot, his pavilion would be full to bursting.
A thread of melody carried through the chill night, words slurring haphazardly. “What are they …? Rise, stop here. What are they singing?”
They held still, ears tuned to a lusty ballad. Quen’s mounting suspicions collapsed into utter mortification when he realized the song’s subject matter. He hadn’t been aware there was a translation from wolvish of “The Wolf and the Moon Maiden.” Yet Dad was bellowing out the maiden’s lines without a trace of shame. Adoona-soh had taken the hero’s role, her deep voice rich with drama.
Their gender-swapped performance might have been amusing, but for the fact that he’d been similarly cast. At the chorus, more voices joined the song. Lapis’ singing was lovely as ever. More surprising was Twineshaft’s very passable baritone.
Quen was fully prepared to skulk home, but then Ever’s voice broke through the rest. “Wiff naughty butt moon-beans for a dress!”
“Tsk. The line is ‘naught but moonbeams,’” came Mettlebright’s bland correction.
A husky laugh followed. “I dunno, Dad. I think little bro has her pegged.”
That was Gingko.
“Moon-beans?” a child asked softly.
Definitely Kyrie. The little dragon crosser didn’t talk half as much as Ever, but not because he couldn’t.
“No, these are nuts, not beans.” And then Argent’s voice rose slightly. “Come along, Eloquence, or I fear they will never stop this caterwauling.”
Caught out.
He was halfway to the door when Hisoka Twineshaft opened it for him. “Good day, Eloquence. Or good evening, if you like.”
The rest had picked up the ballad again. Gingko seemed to be teaching it to them, translating off-the-cuff from wolvish. Quen had to wonder where a half-fox had picked up the knack, but he voiced a more pressing question. “Do I even want to know how you already know the form my suitor’s declaration will take?”
“Isla submitted a proposed schedule to both me and Suuzu. All the necessary preparations are underway.” Hisoka searched his face, then offered a palm. “Have I become an imposition?”
Quen guessed Twineshaft had been Dad’s friend for much too long. How else could a cat have perfected a hangdog expression? “If you can prevent Dad from burying my dignity in the back garden, I’ll welcome any meddling you deem appropriate.”
Hisoka’s usual poise slipped enough for Quen to tell he’d surprised him.
“You’re usually more wary,” Hisoka said.
“Less grateful, as well.” Stepping into Twineshaft’s personal space, he bestowed a pudding please. “I want to thank you for having me join the inaugural class at New Saga High School.”
His expression softened. “Wasn’t that my line?”
Quen tucked his chin. “Let’s just say I’ve come around to your way of thinking.”
“Most do.” Hisoka pulled him into a loose embrace. “You may count on my continued meddling.”
He snorted.
“Do you trust me, Eloquence?”
“You’re a friend of this pack.”
Hisoka inclined his head, but in the way a teacher does when granting partial credit. Close, but not quite.
Quen sighed. “What do you want?”
“More.” The cat repeated his question with gentle emphasis. “Do you trust me, Eloquence?”
He’d always thought of Twineshaft as Dad’s friend. Like all his brothers, Quen extended every courtesy, treating the Five as honorary packmates. But courtesy wasn’t trust. Faith couldn’t be forged secondhand. This was his choice.
Eloquence considered the weight and worth of his next words, for they would be binding.
Yet the answer was obvious, as if the moment of decision had come and gone long ago. All Hisoka was doing was calling the matter to his attention. A mere formality. A mutual acknowledgment.
“I do,” he answered. “I have for a while now.”
“Oooh, me next!” crooned the tipsy dragon who sauntered straight into Quen’s arms. Draped and drooping, Lapis sighed boozily against his ear. “Say you love me, El-o-quence. Am I not better to you than cats and foxes and Icelandic interlopers?”
Hisoka smiled knowingly. “Come, Lord Mossberne. Sinder isn’t a rival for your place in Eloquence’s cozy den.”
“You would not turn me out in the cold, would you El-o-quence?”
Quen tried to see past Hisoka into the brightly-lit room. “Who’s Sinder?”
“An acquaintance from among the dragon clans.” Hisoka stepped back and urged, “Come in out of the cold.”
Lapis trilled his agreement, yet sagged more pitifully.
Having enough of delays, Quen all but carried him into the spacious chamber where Dad liked to entertain. For all the ruckus they were creating, the group was surprisingly small. Perhaps the noise level could be blamed on the star wine. Or on Gingko Mettlebright, who’d launched into yet another stanza.
Only Argent wasn’t singing, nor had he been drinking, judging by the amount still sparkling in the glass he’d pushed away. The fox spokesperson offered Quen a polite nod, then returned to shelling gingko nuts for the children occupying his lap.
Ever vied with Kyrie for the treats, but at a murmured word from Argent, the little boy’s gaze swung around. “Bruvver!”
“Having fun?” Quen scanned the room, but Lapis’ Icelandic rival wasn’t present.
“Yeth!”
“Help me get Lord Mossberne to a good, warm spot.”
The boy quickly trotted to a pile of furs and dragged one over beside Argent. “Laps wiff us. I warm Laps.”
The dragon’s expression went all doting, and he murmured, “If you insist.”
Argent helped drape the fur around Lapis’ shoulders. Once Ever clambered into the dragon lord’s lap, the fox deposited Kyrie there as well. For added warmth.
Leaving the little ones to ply Lapis with gingko nuts and chatter, Argent gestured officiously to the cushion at his other side. “Sit.”
Quen sat.
Argent was relatively new to his position among the Five. Quen rarely saw him, barely knew him, despite their common ground—fostering crossers.
“Here he is, my maiden son!” Dad boomed. “Suitably suitored, properly pursued!”
And then Hisoka was at his old friend’s side, proposing a toast that granted Eloquence’s upcoming claim some much needed dignity.
Argent raised his glass with the rest, took a polite sip, and arched a brow. “A human?”
“Yes.”
“Why her?”
The line of questioning hardly seemed fair. Argent had chosen a human. “Why’d you take your bondmate?”
The fox smirked. “She is a beacon.”
Eloquence waded through dismay and disappointment before reaching disbelief. Argent had to be lying. Or, at the very least, evading.
Argent seemed to be following his entire train of thought, for he gave a different answer. “I trust her.”
“That’s all?”
“Hardly,” he scoffed. “But without first laying claim to my trust, she could not have taken hold of everything else.”
Quen saw the sense. Argent’s words rang true.
The fox asked, “How did your attachment come about?”
Had rumors begun to spread? He quietly admitted, “It was an accident.”
“Serendipity or calamity?”
“What a thing to ask,” Quen muttered.
“You have nothing to say? Ironic.”
“I don’t hear you waxing eloquent about the felicities of love.”
“I could.” Argent bluntly inquired, “Are your reasons for accepting Miss Miyabe personal or promotional?”
Quen grit his teeth. On the face of things, he shared enough common ground with the fox that they should have gotten along. Why was Argent goading him? Fists clenched, he asked, “Are you trying to insult me?”
“Already riled?” He tutted disapprovingly.
He mastered his irritation. Barely.
Argent went right on. “Many of the Kindred will infer that you are under pressure from your father. That you are following his lead, supporting his policies by echoing his actions.”
