GAR

Walking Rika through the WildWood—as the crow flies, because they didn't want the tribes to realize Rika was there yet—was a unique gift.

Her appreciation of the beauty of his home, and the whispered conversation they had as they passed between the Great Trees fed his heart. She was weary, but like a child, eyes wide and curious, enjoying every step, asking questions about how the City worked and when she'd be able to see it. She exclaimed more than once that things looked different from the ground, and he was reminded that she'd seen a bird's-eye view of much of the City. And yet, she was thrilled.

Then they finally reached the tree line into the royal meadow and as it opened before them, Rika's eyes went even wider.

This time of year there were no flowers, and the sun was behind clouds today, but the meadow still looked inviting and when he showed her his tree… she almost fell over in excitement.

"We'd seen the people going in and out of these, but I never imagined… I thought it would be like a… a den or something!"

As Gar led her inside, for the first time in his life, he'd felt insecure about his home. He rarely invited anyone beyond family inside. It was his sanctuary.

He wasn't especially messy, and he spent little time at home. But the living area was full of small tokens of his life and the space smelled like home to him. When Rika walked through the door and stood in the middle of the living room floor, Gar's throat pinched.

She was here. She was finally fucking here.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself.

Rika stood in the center of the floor, turning slowly, her mouth open. Her eyes scanned the thick leather couch with the blanket his mother had given him to throw over the back. The chairs next the window where he and his father had gotten drunk on Elreth's flame day. The shelves with his books, and the small, but clean kitchen.

She took in the little dining table he kept—it only sat four, though the days anyone other than himself sat there were few—and the light that hung from the ceiling over it. She scanned the stairs that climbed the back wall, leading to the bedrooms upstairs. Her brows went up and she looked at him. "There's rooms up there?"

He nodded. "My bedroom. And another. You can… you can rest there, if you want."

It wasn't what he wanted. He yearned to tuck her into his furs and hold her, to kiss her, to stroke her, to bring her alive and cement the bond. But he knew she wasn't ready.

They'd kissed—many times—but that was as far as it went. The few times he'd stroked her sides or taken a handful of her ass, she'd always moved out of his grip with a nervous laugh and distracted him from any further contact. He'd learned to step slowly with her and no matter how it ate at him—how he wanted to tear the throat out of the male who'd hurt her and made it so hard for her to trust—he knew that he couldn't push.

She blinked, though, when he offered, as if she wasn't sure. His heart rose.

"That's probably for the best," she said quietly. She wouldn't meet his eyes. She looked down at her hands and her hair fell between them, as if she were hiding.

He nodded, his stomach sinking.

Then he didn't say anything because everything that ran through his head wasn't going to work for her, he was sure.

I love you.

I need you.

I need to know you need me.

This is forever, now.

Gar cleared his throat. "Did you want to lay down now, or—?"

"Not yet. I'm still a little tense," she said carefully and finally looked up at him. "Can I… see the house?"

"Sure." Glad for a task, he strode forward, beckoning her to follow him. "And I'll get you some more clothes too, if you want to bathe and change. You're about my mom's size. I'm sure she'll have stuff that fits you."

Rika blinked uncertainly, but Gar smiled. "Don't worry, she's cool."

He led her upstairs, past the door of his room right at the top that took up more than half the second floor and further down the narrow hallway to the second room that was nestled directly over the living room.

He hadn't been in that room for months and when he opened the door it smelled of the sap of the tree, but also dust.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't know I was going to be receiving… visitors."

Rika smiled. "I don't mind." She walked inside and pulled the curtains back from the window, flooding the room with light.

This room had a small bed in it—designed for cubs. Something Gar hadn't really thought about when his parents helped him furnish it. He'd assumed that when he found a mate she'd be sleeping with him…

Turning from that thought, Gar cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "My room's across the hall and down by the stairs. If you need anything and I'm not downstairs, that's probably where I'll be."

Rika nodded. "Okay. Did you want to… I mean, should we go downstairs?"

The awkwardness killed Gar. He wasn't used to feeling nervous… well, ever, really. He could be afraid of what might happen, and got angry a lot of the time. But he rarely felt this squirming sense of fear that he was going to do or say the wrong thing.

"Yeah," he said finally. "My parents are next door and I need to go tell them about the meeting. If you want, I'll get you a drink and you can hang out while I go fill them in?"

"Sure," Rika said, shoving her hands into the pockets of her pants. "Sounds like a plan."

Wincing with the pain of it all, Gar led her back downstairs praying they could find their way together.. Praying hard.

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