Felinae has changed, so much so that Zeik’s eyes widen with her confident step forward. The mountain had shaped her, made her into stone, and then spit her back out with steel in her heart. Her teeth scrape against his skin and the sensation snaps him back into his hardened resolve. All this time and he’d never really known how much he had needed her in return. It was odd, to see himself so low and have her - his little bird - bring him right back to his senses. They really were meant for each other. Her fiery words elicit the dryest of chuckles and the roan stallion leans against her, into her. “You are certainly something of a wonder to me.” He whispers.
He can feel the way she tries to hold herself together, the faint trembling of her body as she inhales his scent. The worry, the pain, the shame; they all seem to fade the longer they spend together just reconnecting. He’d been an idiot not to fight for her, he knew that now. He knew that the moment the red-eyed asshole had held him under his thumb with a threat. Zeik was no power against magic, but he should’ve fought. Felinae was worth that. As she breaths against him, light, fluttery gasps, he swears to himself that he will never let her go again. Ever.
“I’ve missed you too.” He murmurs, trying his best to sooth her. His nose draws gentle circles along her spine, only stopping for a moment so that he can close his eyes and drink this moment in. “It’s alright now though, I’m not leaving you and I never will.” He promises, letting the words drift over her in a blanket of sound. His voice is rumbling now, he can hardly contain the joy that she gives to him. But still, there’s another bright star that looms over them both and Zeik can no longer contain himself.
“Our daughter, Besra.” He questions; yes, Zeik knew her name. He’d been hiding in the lofty trees of the mountain the day Felinae had given birth. It was a risk, but it had been one worth taking. Feli will never know how much that moment had hurt him and given him new life. “Is she here? Does she know I exist?” He questions softly, trying (and failing) to keep the strain out of his voice.
Z E I K
-everything we are and used to be is buried and gone-