“And,” she said, “on the nights we aren’t together, I will dream-walk by your side. We’ll meet each other in our sleep and love each other there, even when we’re miles apart, my love.”
His heart was so full he couldn’t bear it. Dream walking was a special magic reserved for mates. Only mated scribes and singers had the ability to meet each other in dreams, their souls touching even if their bodies were apart. He rolled Renata to her back and sank into her, their easy pace forgotten. He needed her. Needed her laughter and her heat and the brightness in her eyes. Needed the peace of her presence and the comfort of her hand.
“You are my mate,” he said, taking her mouth in a hard kiss. “You are my mate, Renata of Fatima.”
Her lips were flushed with pleasure, swollen from his kisses. Her breath came in quiet pants as he drove her body to climax.
“You are my mate, Maxim of Riga,” she breathed out. “I will have no other.”
“I will have no other.” He heard the quiet catch of her breath. “I want no other but you. Forever.”
Her body tightened around him, and her back arched in pleasure when she came. Max drove into her, biting the pillow beside her instead of shouting his pleasure when he climaxed. He let out a long breath and fell to the side, gathering Renata to his arms, locking their bodies together.
“I want to stay in bed all day,” he said.
“We have guests.”
Somewhere below them, the smell of baking bread and the sound of bright voices drifted up the stairs.
“Hang our guests,” Max said. “They know where the food is.”
Renata ran her fingers through his short hair. “Is Evin well?”
He nodded. “What did she do?”
“It felt like someone lancing an infection,” Renata said. “It all poured out. And it hurt. So, so badly.”
He hugged her closer.
“But then it was gone. And… I don’t know. Things feel clearer. The pool is still filled with water, but she cleaned out the leaves and muck that had fallen in. I can see the bottom now.”
Max kissed her forehead. “I’m glad.”
“You know we can’t really hide in bed all day, right?”
He lifted his head. “There’s a washbasin in the corner. We’ve made do with worse amenities over the years.”
She laughed, truly laughed, and he fell in love with her all over again.
“We can’t stay in bed all day,” she said. “Today is Midwinter. And there’s a little girl downstairs who deserves to celebrate.”
That night Renata helped Evin light the Midwinter candles, the sweet smell of beeswax filling the dining room where their feast was laid out. Combining their food stores had led to a far more luxurious meal than Max had expected.
They had a roast from Zana’s frozen store of winter venison he’d hunted before the storm and roasted potatoes Renata had brought from the village. She’d also brought mild red sauerkraut and a cabbage salad with carrots. Thawra had taught Renata how to make soft sweet rolls she called kulicha, filled with dates and hazelnuts, and a chickpea stew simmered in spicy tomatoes and chilies.
Evin had stuffed herself with so many sweets Max didn’t know how she ate anything once they sat down, but Zana filled her plate and she ate everything but the sauerkraut, chattering away about the songs Renata had taught her that day and the newfound silence in her mind.
And though Renata still sat at the opposite end of the table from Zana, she smiled and asked him more questions about his life and business in Syria. She told him she had a sister with Jaron’s blood and sat silently as Max told them the story of Jaron’s fall and hopeful redemption. Max could tell the story moved both Zana and Thawra greatly.
After dinner, Max got out the guitar to play some Midwinter music, and Renata surprised him again by singing a traditional song in the style of the Southern Alps, her voice lighter and more playful than he’d ever heard in his life. He watched her as she sang, imagining the living room filled with their own family, imagining friends who came to visit this house, filling it with love and laughter and new memories.
He wanted it desperately.
Renata met his eyes, smiling as she sang one song after another. In the music, he heard her heart waking.
She would always be a warrior. Always.
Perhaps if life had not turned the way it had, she wouldn’t have been. Perhaps she would have been a scholar and a mother and a mate, passing on her songs to other singers and living out her life with another man.
But the storm had come, and it had not been gentle. The scars had broken the path of her life, cutting off some trails even as it cleared others. In another life, Max might never have known her, might never have loved her.
Did that make him thankful for the storm?
No. He simply accepted it.
Max set the guitar down and joined Renata on the sofa when they were finished singing. Thawra had taken a mandolin from the music room and tuned it. She started playing on it, picking through the notes carefully until she became accustomed to the instrument.
“It’s very like a tambur,” Zana said. “Not exactly, but it’s close.”
“And she plays?” Renata asked.
“She plays beautifully.” The love on the man’s face was so evident Max almost looked away. “Her mother taught her before she died, and Thawra has already started teaching Evin.”
Evin was sitting at her mother’s feet, watching everything Thawra did with unwavering attention.
“Your daughter is extremely bright,” Renata said.
Zana put a hand over his heart and bowed his head. “Thank you. She is a gift to us.”
“She picked up the simple magic I taught her today almost instantly.”
Max said, “She reminds me of Matti.”
Renata nodded. “I had the same thought.”
“Who is Matti?” Zana asked.
“My brother’s child,” Max said. “She has two different fallen archangels in her bloodline, so Matti and her brother are… different. We think. But Ava and Malachi seem well prepared in dealing with them.”
“We have no idea what to do with her magic,” Zana said. “Thawra does her best to understand, but her abilities are quite different than Evin’s. She can feel emotions very strongly, but she doesn’t drain them from others the way Evin does.”
“She might be able to if she’s trained in more magic,” Renata said as Thawra started playing a lively tune by the fire.
“Perhaps,” Zana said. “The only solution so far has been to isolate them. That’s why we liked this mountain. The village is close enough for me to visit for supplies, but the caves are isolated enough to keep them from being overwhelmed.”
Max watched Renata, wondering if her mind was going where his was.
“You should stay,” she said quietly.
Zana was wary. “I know something very upsetting happened here. I can guess some things. I know this is your home. We do not want to disrespect your home in any way.”
“The school in the village is good.” Renata ignored his objections. “It’s a long walk, but it’s possible.”
Max put a hand on the back of her neck. “Renata, are you sure?”
She took a deep breath and turned to Zana. “I am uncomfortable with you. That is not your fault. It simply is.”