-39 Gaffriel

I watched as Thanus led Niala away. She looked stunned, shaken, and swimming in tears that I knew she was doing her best to hold back. She had just gotten her fires, not found them as beautiful and fierce as everyone else did, and started molting all at the same time. My heart ached for her as much as it wanted to protect her. Then, Kiromir's fierce gaze met my own before his hand reached for my wrist, jerking me close.

I expected anger, chastisement, forbidding words. If Thanus left without me, I'd be stuck alone with Kiromir. But I had nobody else to ride with.

"Do not fucking disappoint me. Do not fucking hurt her," Kiromir's grasp grew tighter. I didn't flinch.

I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch as he kept speaking, "That tattoo. Do you fucking mean it?" He shook me a little, tried to, but I stood firm. I swallowed hard and nodded once, a sharp bob, without hesitation.

"You know what I am to the Wanderers. You know what Niala is to me and that I will never have a blood heir," He said, harsh spite in his voice. He scared me, but I had to remain strong. I knew and nodded. I didn't trust my voice not to crack at my response because Kiromir was our flock leader, our chieftain.

I'd never thought about Niala being flock leader someday.

"That would fall on whatever male she binds to," Kiromir said, and my ears started ringing as my stomach dropped low. He shook me because the stun on my face must have been obvious.

"I didn't th—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Do not take this as permission. Do not take this as my blessing. Do not fucking think you can force her, but if you are put in a position to take my seat someday, you better fucking act like it. Now, what's your next move, Gafinna?" He said, using my childhood nickname. I hated that name, but I took a deep calming breath as I tamed my aura. Kiromir glanced around as he noticed it.

"My next move is to stick to her side like glue until she tells me not to. My next move is to get stronger, earn more, and prove to you that I'm worth the trouble. I'll never be good enough for her—" Kiromir's grip slackened, and he nodded in agreement to my final statement.

"But I'll be damned if I ever let her be this unhappy again," I spoke with every bit of resolve I could muster. I felt proud of myself, my voice not cracking. Kiromir's stare intensified but didn't waver. I had one thing I knew I could say.

"En Amma Teya, man elt ik sooth," I said. I had practiced it a thousand times in my head, and I said it with confidence. His grip changed. He hugged me in the blink of an eye, and Kiromir had never been that way with me. I froze, eyes wide.

'I love her, with all my fires.' I had said.

"I still don't like you," He spoke, whispering; his voice cracked.

"The feeling's mutual," I laughed.

"By a marginal amount?" He asked as he let me go.

"By a substantial margin," I grinned before he shoved me off towards where they'd run.

When Niala had started learning English, it was a longstanding joke we had. She became obsessed with units of subjective measurement, and nothing was more subjective than love, delight, happiness, so she equated the two, and we'd never stopped. Of course, I hoped we never did.