Chapter 535: Aymora's Story - Part 3
ELIA
Elia covered her own mouth and swallowed her own tears. Aymora's thought resonated within her so purely—like a chord struck on just the right tone—that it stole her breath. She knew those feelings. She understood them completely. "That's love," she whispered, stroking Aymora's arm as her adoptive mother fought tears. "It's good to admire your mate."
Aymora nodded. "It is true. Too many females focus on their mate's flaws, and forget his strengths," she said carefully, clearing her throat. "Just as a female cannot thrive when she is not loved, a male cannot thrive when he is not respected. I… I did respect him," she said quickly. "He knew… he knew I admired him. Spoke highly of him even in his absence. I was… If I erred at all it was that I was blind to some of his faults."
She turned her head then and her beautiful, tear-lined eyes locked on Elia's. In a different kind of moment, Elia knew, they would have joked together about how widely Elia's eyes were open to Reth's faults—and to his strengths. But it wasn't the moment. Elia gave her a watery smile and Aymora reached a hand over to rub her arm.
"Tell me what happened," Elia whispered a moment later.
Aymora sighed.
"The battle was coming and it would have been devastating, we knew. The King refused to listen to Drhake's ideas on reaching across the front. On how to communicate with the bears in a way that would bank their anger and bring them to the negotiation table. I was… angry with the King. Convinced that my mate had the right of it.
"He'd grown up in a friendship with some of the bears. Reth can tell you, the peace with the bears is always… shaky. But different family groups respond differently to the tensions. There were always some that were willing to speak. Drhake was convinced that those central to the conflict would listen to those that were open with the Pride. If he could only get someone over to speak with them directly, to explain… they could negotiate a middle ground. A way for both groups to exist in peace… and I encouraged him."
She blew out a heavy breath. "I was so in love with him. So idealistic. When he proposed to me that he could cross the enemy line and approach the Bear King directly, I was certain he would save everyone. I was certain he would thwart war. I was… I was so certain.
"I was working full time as a healer. The injured were consistent and, even with our faster healing powers, often needed a great deal of help. Especially the first few days. It seemed like all we were doing was cycling males in and out—healing them, and sending them back to get harmed again. It made me sick and… I can see now, the fear I had that something would happen to him. That the longer the war went on, the more inevitable it would be… that drove me, though I never gave it room in my head. My heart feared it.
"I wanted him to save us from the coming battle because I was afraid of losing him to it. But I couldn't see that in myself at the time—that I was allowing fear to twist what I knew. The wise women saw it. More than once I was counselled during those months. I was warned. War is ugly. It is brutal. And the need for our strength of purpose—to stand for what is right, not for what serves our purposes… they tried to make me see. I know that now. But at the time I was full of my youthful ignorance and adoration for my mate. I was stupid and na?ve, and convinced my mate would save all of WildWood, and then those females would see that I had been right. I began… hiding things from them. Things that Drhake told me. Plans he was making. I thought he was right to do it. I was wrong, Elia. So was he. So wrong.
"Autumn was coming. The bears wanted to hibernate. The King was pushing to avoid conflict, to allow them to rest. To give ourselves the months to refresh and renew—and to attempt diplomacy in the wake of their sleep. But they were threatening not to hibernate at all. And they were pushing for assault. They wanted to win ahead of their sleep and so rest for the winter as victors.
"Tensions were… thick. All of WildWood could see the battle coming. Including me. There was a night… a night Dhrake came to find me among the healers early. Before the dinner bell had even rung. He stole me away, lying about an official request for his fist. Instead he took me home and he made love to me… Creator's mane, Elia… he worshipped me that night. And I worshipped him in return. It was… it was breathtaking. And I knew what it meant. We never spoke of it. He did not tell me—he didn't have to. What he was doing… it was treachery. If he was taken into enemy hands, if he released our secrets… but he wouldn't. I was so certain.
"And so we loved each other for hours that night and he left before dawn. And I went back to work, smiling."
Aymora's breath caught and she swallowed convulsively. Elia bit her own lip, knowing where this story had to end, but wishing, willing it to be something else. Begging the Creator to remove this pain from this woman who had been such an important love in her life. Who was so strong and sure for so many others.
But as she watched, Aymora seemed to shrink. Tears collected at the corners of her eyes and fell, trailing down her temples to the furs, but she didn't wipe them. Her eyes darted, following things in the images of her memories, and Elia stifled her own sobs to see Aymora's grief. The fire that had refined her all these years.
"It was the worst day of my life," she croaked finally. "And in a way, I brought it on myself."
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