Page 8 of A is for Ahool

Muram turned his head toward me and made an indecipherable series of hoots and chirps. At my stunned silence, he huffed a laugh. “It's not a sound a human can make.”

“What does it mean?” I asked.

He was silent so long that I began to regret asking. Maybe, it was something even worse than sad.

He sighed quietly. “Protector.”

I silently watched him arrange the bowls and utensils before walking the perimeter of the nest. He stopped at the entrance on the opposite side of me. He stood looking out at the jungle, and his shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh.

I studied him, taking in his powerful body and heavy brow in profile. As intimidating as his features were, he looked tired. Weary. As if the weight of the world had been on his shoulders for far too long, and the burden was slowly breaking him. I swallowed past the sudden tightness in my throat.

“Did they tell you what your name means?” I asked quietly.

He gave me a humorless smile. “Yes. And I suppose it suits me.”

An urge I had never felt before rose in me. The nearly overwhelming need to hold a man. To hug him close in comfort. My gaze dropped to Muram’s callused hand where it hung at his side. My fingers twitched with the need to touch.

“I am the last guardian the jungle will see,” Muram murmured. “And when I am gone there will be no one to mourn me.”

I had not known him long, but I knew he was wrong. I would mourn him.

∞∞∞

Muram

The red glow of evening spilled through the entrance of my nest. It painted the woven floor between us like a river I could not, should not, cross. I stayed away from Anissa as much as I could. No matter how much my nature yearned for her, I knew enough about the humans to understand the separation between their males and females. Even in the village, where they practiced a combination of local traditions and Islam, single men did not approach single women.

I had already touched her too much. The sensation of her silky hair brushing my throat when I carried her. The soft warmth of her body in my arms. The light floral scent of her skin. It would all haunt me long after she left.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She lay still on the pallet, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath. I jerked my gaze away. I would need to change her bandage before night fell. And first thing in the morning, I needed to return her to the village. Even if I had to carry her.

I wanted to believe in my self-control. I wanted to think I could stay only an arm’s length from her and resist the urge to display. That I could bury my instincts to woo, and mate, and bond, but I knew better. I could not risk it. If I displayed and she rejected me, it would be a death sentence.

My kind were not built like humans. There was one chance, one display. I was already tempting ruin by showing her my nest. If I spread my wings for her, offered her everything I was, and she turned away… I squeezed my eyes closed.

No. I would care for her as much as I dared, and then I would let her go. Humans and Ahool may share the world, but we were not the same. And I loved her too much to ask her to care for me.

I quietly rose from my crouch and retrieved a clean bandage and the small container of salve. As I approached Anissa, she stirred and opened her eyes. They were lighter in the glow of dusk, the color of honey. She watched me kneel beside her, but the tension I expected did not come. She eyed me curiously.

“I should change your bandage,” I said.

Her eyes moved from my face to the items cupped in my hands. “Should I sit up?” she asked quietly.

I considered. Having her under my hands was a temptation, but her face near mine would be worse. I shook my head.

Anissa was calm and quiet as I carefully peeled back her bandage to check the gash on her forehead. The salve had prevented the wound from drying out, keeping the edges supple. She would heal quickly. In a matter of weeks, there would be nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. I smiled to myself and placed the new bandage.

As I began to move away, Anissa’s small hand covered mine. My eyes flew to hers. She stared at me in shock, as if she were just as surprised by her actions. I slowly twisted my wrist until her hand lay in my wide palm. I chanced a look down and for a moment I could not breathe.

How long had I yearned to hold her hand in mine? To know how the flowers felt each time she gently ran her fingertips over their petals. My fingers twitched as I fought the urge to cradle her hand in mine. Love her until she wanted to stay.

“I’m sorry,” Anissa whispered, starting to pull back.

“No,” I said breathlessly. “Please, don’t apologize.”

She paused. “I wanted to ask you something.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Anything," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.