They pointed and sure enough the stones that lined the dirt trail leading west from the village glowed a soft green color in the darkness.
We rose and Kadam stood also. He clapped my shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, son.” He hugged Ana, kissed both of her cheeks, and said, “I’m so happy to have you officially join my family.” Then, he added, “Take care of one another.”
“We will,” I promised him.
Together, Ana and I started down the path. With my tiger eyes, I could see her clearly even in the darkness. I played with her fingers as she led the way and allowed my eyes to rove over her lovely form, admiring the curve of her hips, her small waist, and the way her long hair brushed against my arm.
The Silvanae were true to their word. The small house they’d built for us was lovely. Ana was delighted by the garden, dappled with moonlight. I was personally more enraptured by the woman. The night-blooming flowers had opened, wafting their scent, but they were not nearly as intoxicating as Ana.
Now that we were alone and our minds were open to one another, I sensed her sudden shyness. The last thing I wanted to do was remind her of the terrible things that had happened to her in the past.
“Can we sit by the waterfall for a while?” I asked. “That is, if you aren’t tired.”
She agreed and I called upon the power of the scarf to make a thick blanket and dozens of fluffy pillows. After I sat, I drew her down to me and kissed her softly but briefly. “You look beautiful,” I said, then frowned. “We didn’t get any pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“Yes, remember? They’re like paintings but created instantly.”
“Ah, yes. Do you mean like this?”
She twirled her hand and threads stitched together, fashioning a tapestry of the two of us kissing as flower petals rained down upon our heads.
I laughed. “I suppose that will work,” I said.
As she snapped her fingers, the tapestry rolled itself up and she used the wind to send it into the little cottage. A flower petal drifted down from her hair and landed in her lap. She pointed up to her head and asked, “Are there more?”
Leaning closer, I whispered, “I’m actually a bit afraid the bees might attack you while we sleep.”
The corner of Ana’s mouth lifted. “Will you help?”
“Absolutely.” I plucked out one petal and another, and then gently removed one twisted flower after another, threading my fingers through the strands of her hair to loosen them from the tight braids. It was a slow process but it was what both of us needed. When her hair was free of flowers, I massaged her neck and shoulders through the layers of gauzy fabric.
Ana used her magic to unmake the threads halfway down her back so my hands were now touching her bare skin. I inhaled deeply and tried to keep my focus on what I was doing and not on her smooth-as-satin skin or the delicate curve of her neck. When her hair got in my way, I scooted closer, brushing the mass of it over her shoulder, touched my lips to the spot just behind her ear, and worked my slow way down her neck.
She twisted around, and as her hands twined around my neck, I wrapped her in my arms and drew her onto my lap, touching my forehead to hers. “There’s no rush, Ana. I am content to be your husband.”
Pulling back slightly, Ana studied me. Her dress, half dissolved in the back, gaped at the front in such a way that was intensely distracting.
I stumbled through the words, knowing they needed to be said and willing them to be true. “We have a lifetime together, maybe even several of them. There is time for us to go slowly.”
Ana touched my face. “You do not frighten me, Sohan. I won’t deny that I might feel apprehension at times, but I know your heart. You do not wish to harm me.”
“I would protect you with my life,” I affirmed. “You are my lady fair, my treasure, my prēmikā.” I kissed both of her cheeks. “For the rest of my days, my greatest wish will be to please you.”
Pressing her supple body closer, she said, “Then let’s begin the first day now.”
Ana kissed me and I let her take the lead, lying back on the blanket with her stretched out on top of me. I was hesitant at first, keeping my hands still even though the threads whispered around her, unmaking her lovely wedding dress inch by provocative inch. The long train transformed into a second blanket that covered us, and with the golden energy humming between us, heightening each caress and touch, I didn’t realize until her hands roamed my bare chest that she’d unmade my clothing as well.
Stroking her back, I kissed her ear and murmured, “Tuma mere sapanom ki aurata ho.”
She raised her head, her long hair spilling around us in a curtain. Ana’s green eyes flashed as she smiled. “Would you like to see what I dreamed about?” she asked.
I lifted my body up, supporting my weight on my elbows, and kissed her, linking my mind to hers, and the two of us were soon wrapped in her dream. That night we made a few more come true as well.
***
The next day or, actually, afternoon, we realized that a new mountain range had risen in Shangri-La. I laughed but Ana bit her lip, concerned with the potential damage to the world she’d come to love. When a villager appeared after her summons with a basket filled with food, Ana asked about the changes to the landscape but he assured us that everyone was fine.
After we ate, we swam in the pool and bathed beneath the waterfall. I combed out Ana’s long hair, and then we lay next to each other as it dried in the sun, fingers entwined as we talked of the future. We made a pact then not to try to peek into our own. With a bit more practice, we soon discovered that the physical affection we showed to one another didn’t affect the world around us when we were phased out of time.
We developed a habit of using this power every time we wanted to be alone, a fact our children teased us about frequently later on. Ana and I both wanted a large family, especially after I shared the dream I’d had of hunting with our sons. We had nine children together. Seven boys and two girls. Though, in actuality, we ended up adopting dozens more as Ana took in lost children everywhere we went. After Ana gave birth to our seventh child together, our first daughter, Arundati, Ana began to show signs that she was losing her power.
It alarmed me more than it did her. When Kadam appeared, as he had when all our children were born, I expressed my concern. He remained as tight-lipped as he always was and left us with the cryptic advice to look at each day as a blessing. We had our eighth child and our ninth, and I realized that with each baby, Ana had given a part of herself, of her power. As I held our ninth child in my arms, our little boy, Jayesh, I told her no more. We could adopt more if she wished, but I couldn’t lose her. I wouldn’t, even if it meant never touching her again.
Ana thought I would ultimately give in, but after a month of avoiding being alone with her, she reluctantly agreed with me, and I stole into the future to get from Kadam what she needed to prevent pregnancy. Our life seemed to settle into a routine then. The two of us were often gone, serving in the role of goddess and tiger. In some cases, she healed or provided answers to whispered pleas. Sometimes she came down like an avenging angel, destroying usurpers and bringing justice to those who needed her.