Reborn in the Age of Human-Beast Marriages novel · Chapter 2 of 12

Chapter 2: The Mountain

The Zaldivar house was carved into the rock of the Ashen Sierra, three thousand steps above the last human village.

We arrived at dusk.

The windows were narrow, the ceilings high, and the wind whistled through the halls like a sleeping beast.

There were no flowers, tapestries, or rugs.

Only stone, dark wood, and blazing fireplaces.

The servants, all jaguars with golden eyes, lined up in the courtyard without saying a word.

Not one of them looked me in the face.

Baltasar took me by the elbow and led me up a spiral staircase to an oak door.

"This will be your room."

He opened it.

Inside was a large bed with wool blankets, a table with a pitcher of water, and a window open to the abyss.

It was simple.

It was clean.

Someone had placed a handful of dried herbs beside the pillow.

"For sleeping," he said without looking at me. "If you don't like them, I'll take them away."

I smelled the herbs.

They were from my guild, the apothecaries.

I smiled.

"I like them."

Baltasar nodded and stood in the doorway, his hands behind his back.

In the firelight, I got a better look at his scar.

It ran from his collarbone to behind his ear, three parallel lines, white and old.

He was a handsome man in the way of the mountains: a strong jaw, straight nose, full lips unaccustomed to smiling.

"I have one rule," he said.

"Tell me."

"I won't touch you until you ask me to."

I went still.

"Today you signed a paper, in front of everyone, obligating you to be my wife. The Council expects us to consummate the marriage and have a child as soon as possible, like those two." He gestured south, toward the Aldana Tower. "But you chose this without knowing who I am. I won't take anything you don't want to give me."

"What if I take a while?"

"Take all the time you need."

"And the child?"

"The Council can wait."

I looked at him for a long time.

I'd spent two years with a man who called me "my love" every night and never once asked what I wanted.

And this man, whom everyone called a murderer, was offering me time like someone offering a coat.

"Baltasar."

"Yes?"

"Did you really kill three women?"

He didn't get angry.

He didn't look away, either.

"No."

"Who says you did?"

"The wolves."

He let the word hang in the air.

"And what do you say?"

"I'm not going to explain it to you today. Today you just left the Hall with a family who called you a traitor and a man you don't know. You don't need one more story."

He was right.

Suddenly, I felt so tired, my dress tight against me and my temples throbbing.

I sank onto the bed.

He took a step inside, stopped, and went still again.

"Why did you choose me?" he asked quietly.

I could have lied to him.

I could have told him anything—that I felt sorry for him, that I liked his face.

"Because you were the only one in the hall who didn't want anything from me," I said. "Everyone else wanted a child. You were just waiting to see if anyone would sit with you."

His eyes changed.

They were still yellow, but they brightened a little, like embers.

"Eloisa."

"Tell me."

"No one had ever..."

He didn't finish.

He crossed the room in three strides, knelt in front of me, and cupped my face in both hands.

He didn't kiss me.

He stayed there, his forehead almost touching mine, breathing like someone who'd just run a long way.

I closed my eyes.

I felt the warmth of his palms, the scent of smoke and pine, the tremor in his fingers.

I was the one who closed the last few inches.

I kissed him.

A brief, uncertain kiss, from mouths that didn't know each other.

He growled low in his chest.

I pulled away.

"That doesn't count as asking," I said, my voice catching.

"No."

"Not yet."

"Not yet."

He stood up slowly, like he was forcing himself to.

He went to the door.

"Good night, Eloisa."

"Good night, Baltasar."

When the door closed, I heard him breathing on the other side, lingering before he finally walked away.

I smiled in the dark like a fool.

There was a tap at the window.

It wasn't him.

It was a falcon from the Aldana Tower stables, with a copper cylinder tied to its leg.

I took it with cold fingers.

Inside was a folded piece of paper, written in a hand I'd known since childhood, round and neat, like a schoolgirl's.

It said:

"You came back too. What a shame, sister. This time I'm going to get there first."

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