~ 11 ~
Six months later…
“Where did you send them?” Renata asked as they reached the crest of the hill.
“Cappadocia,” Max said.
They’d handed off the car in the village. Zana and Thawra would be taking it for the summer while Max and Renata stayed at Ciasa Fatima.
“Cappadocia?” asked Renata. “Not Istanbul?”
“It was a popular decision. Evin is finished with her first school term. Orsala wanted to work more closely with Thawra, and the brothers in the library there heard we had the world’s best carpenter in our employ. They built an addition on the library and need bookcases to fit the caves. They were willing to pay handsomely for the work, so it seemed like perfect timing.”
“And Thawra can have the baby surrounded by Irina healers,” Renata said. “That will make the birth more comfortable.”
“And the scribes can teach Zana the spells he’ll need for the child. So you see? A summer in Cappadocia will be warm but will suit everyone.” He put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Particularly me.”
Renata smiled and kissed him. “I’m just glad Zana hasn’t bought goats yet.”
“Chickens are the only things we have to keep alive. And the vegetable garden.”
“So you’re going to be a farmer for the summer?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
“You better be with a mate like me.” She ducked under his arm and raced across the meadow, leaping over the new fences that Zana had built and up onto the porch that no longer creaked.
Max tackled her just as she got the door open. He threw her over his shoulder and dropped his backpack.
“The chickens can wait.” He slapped her backside. “I need to claim my woman.”
“You know, it’s a good thing I packed my knives away, or I’d carve my mating vow into your ass.” She slapped it for emphasis, but she was lying. She would never mar Maxim’s ass. It would be a crime against heaven.
“You’d never do it,” Max said as they walked up the stairs. “You like it too much.”
The house smelled of lemon oil and pine. Thawra would have aired it out and made it ready for them before they left. There were flowers in their bedroom, and the windows let in the clear mountain air.
Max set her down and stood staring over her shoulder with his mouth agape. “Heaven above.”
“What?” Renata turned from the windows and noticed the bed.
It was a work of art. The formerly rustic wooden bed had been carved with an intricate pattern of stars and flowers. Shining mother-of-pearl inlay decorated each star, the flowers were brightly painted, and darker woods were mixed into the pattern, giving the entire headboard stunning dimension. It was clearly inspired by Syrian design, but the flowers carved into the lattice were the bright yellow, purple, and orange flowers that grew in the meadow in front of the house.
“Oh, Maxim.”
“What a gift he has,” Max said. “And what a mating gift for us.”
Renata smiled. “If you ruin this bed, Maxim, I will never forgive you.”
He huffed. “That was a hotel bed in Copenhagen, and I can’t believe you’re still bringing it up.”
“Still.” She walked over and dragged him to the new sofa by the window. “Maybe we better start on a slightly less valuable piece of furniture.”
“If you insist.” Max dragged Renata’s shirt over her head and tossed it out the open window. “You won’t be needing that for the next few weeks.”
“What if I get cold?” The mountain air hit her skin, but she could never be cold looking at Max naked.
As he was becoming. As quickly as possible.
“I’ll warm you up,” he said. “What are mates for?”
Renata closed her eyes and gave in to the poetry of his brush on her skin. The dark henna started at the nape of her neck and traveled down her spine, spells her body would capture and hold on to as Maxim made his vow. She sat in the flicker of firelight, cross-legged in the house where she’d been born, waiting for her mate to finish the magic that would tie them together.
“I searched through the storm,” he said in a low voice, “and I found you.
“My beloved is a fox on the mountainside.
“She ran from me until I whispered gently.”
Renata angled her neck as the sable brush traced over her shoulder and down her arm. He wrote his spells in the Old Language, the language of heaven and the angels. The language she would sing as they made love.
Come, my beloved
Come to my hand
Come to my bed
My Renata, born in love
Born again in blood.
I will ever be your cleft in the rock.
Ever your faithful shelter
Ever and always the blade in your sure hand.”
Max finished the mating mark over her heart, writing the words of his vow where they would glow as the two of them made love. He knelt before her and kissed her lips, careful not to mar any of his work before the ink dried. “I love you, Renata of Fatima.”
The air around them was heady with magic. He had marked his vow on her body as he would mark her own vow on his, using the sacred ivory needle to tattoo her promise over his heart. Every moment of passion would become a reminder of their pledge. Every time their magic rose, they would be linked.
Renata closed her eyes and let her head fall back in pleasure. She felt Max all around her, not only in his brush, but his scent and his magic. She was covered in him, covered in his extraordinary love and unwavering devotion.
Creator, I thank you for this man. Of all men, you have given him to me. Let me always guard this treasure.
When she could feel the henna cracking, feel the magic sink into her skin, she pushed her lover back onto the pillows she’d set before the fire. Rising over him, she joined their bodies together, placing both hands on his shoulders as she let her head fall back in pleasure.
She let go.
Sorrow had no place here. Joy was everything. Peace was in each touch.
“I love you,” she whispered. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever known.” Renata opened her eyes and saw the shine in his eyes. “Don’t you know that, Maxim? You brought me back to life.”
He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. His finger traced her lips. “Sing to me.”
Renata opened her heart and sang:
“Maxim of Riga, I name you
My beloved. Heart’s redeemer.
I heard your call as I wandered
In the wasteland.
You found me bloody from my enemies and
You spoke softly to me
Calling me back to life.
Beloved mate of my choosing
Steward of my heart
Ever faithful, always grateful
I will ever be yours.”
The magic surrounded them as they made love, and when they reached their release together, Max’s bright silver talesm shone in the darkness as Renata’s gold mating marks lit and came to life.
“We’re one.” She drew in the scent of smoke and magic in the air. “I didn’t know what that meant until now.”
“My mate.” Max smiled and kissed her face, pressing his lips to her cheeks and her chin and her nose until she was giddy with love and magic and power. “My mate, Renata.”
“My mate, Maxim.” She could have brought a generator to life with the power of his smile.
They were lying in their bed carved with stars and flowers, enjoying the moonlight that bathed them from the window.
“Are you happy here?” he asked her.
She rested her chin on his chest. “I am happy with you. So I am happy here.”
“I worried what it would be like to come back here once Thawra and Zana officially moved in. This was your home.”
“But now it’s not. It’s a home that I love. And I love that others will grow up in the safety of these walls. I love that Zana and Thawra will make this a living place again.”
“But?”
She laid her ear over his heart to hear the steady beat. “But my home is with you. Wherever we are. In a cave or in a five-star hotel. My home is with you.”
Though she’d held fiercely to her independence and Max had never argued, Renata had yet to spend a night away from him since they’d come together at Midwinter. She hadn’t needed to, so she hadn’t wanted to. No doubt there would be times in the future where they would be forced apart. They could have assignments that sent them to opposite corners of the world.
But she would always come home to him.
Always.
He was the sword at her side, her cleft in the rock, and her surest shelter in the storm.