Chapter 227 - 227 My Home, My Heart*

227 My Home, My Heart*

~ JAYAH ~

Jayah fluttered like an adolescent as she and Skhal approached her cave. She was thrilled to be able to bring him, to not have to hide him… and yet, she was glad her home was off the main thoroughfares of the Tree City. Slightly remote, nestled high up a trail that snaked up the side of the mountain foothills. They weren’t going to accidentally run into anyone out there. Even so, when they’d decided to travel, she’d kept to the back trails and avoided as much attention as possible, because even though the Alphas had declared peace and several of the Chimera were making their way to the Tree City, they all knew that it was still so tenuous.

When that impossible meeting for peace had occurred, Jayah had stood back in trees holding Zan as requested, Skhal at her back, watching over her shoulder, one hand on her other shoulder as if he was afraid she might run off into the valley. But Jayah had no such compunctions.

The baby was… restless. His cheeks flushed. He slept most of the time because he was feeding again, which was a positive step. But something was still very clearly wrong. If there hadn’t been potential war on the horizon, she would have had eyes and ears for nothing else.

Zev had had a strange look in his eyes when he’d asked her and Skhal to guard Zan while they met with the Anima. But she’d taken the role gladly—well aware that if this went wrong she would be stuck here, in the Chimeran ranks. With her mate.

It was a selfish decision, but Elreth had told her to go and to help the child. So Jayah didn’t even argue.

They’d both listened over the course of the tense hour—gasping with the others when Aaryn was revealed caged.

Skhal had moved then, putting himself between her and the people. Jayah had found herself near tears, convinced there was no way through this. They’d linked with other wolves to see and hear from those close-by.

And they’d both been stunned when Sasha stood up and dominated Zev publicly.

.....

It was a breathtaking risk, one Jayah wasn’t sure she would have taken in the same shoes. And yet… it worked. At least, for the people. Though Zev disappeared very obviously still angry, the female Alphas then faced each other and found their way through.

Jayah cried when Aaryn was freed and they clasped hands, her hope soaring.

And even though the cheers had been frail. Even though there was still a lot of tension… there was a knot from both peoples who stayed in the Valley, talking and learning each other. Mingling warily, but with purpose.

And when Sasha had returned to take Zan, her eyes clouded, but holding less tension in her shoulders, she’d told them that she was going to lead the way—take Zan to the healers center in the Tree City.

“Do you want an escort?” Skhal had asked carefully, reluctantly.

Sasha’s eyes had shadowed. “I’m going to find my mate and… hopefully we’ll do this together. You two should go and… do whatever you want to do. If we need you, Jayah, we’ll have the wolves find you.”

Jayah’s heart had soared, and that was how they’d found themselves now, walking quietly beyond the Tree City together, towards her cave.

When they were on the trail that climbed to her door, Jayah found herself suddenly nervous. Skhal’s hand tightened on hers.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Jayah smiled and nodded. “I’m excited. Just… nervous.”

Skhal snorted. “I assure you, Jayah, you’ve seen what my new home is like. You don’t need to worry that I’ll judge or… anything. I just want to be close to you.”

She smiled then and her heart fluttered again. That was what she wanted too.

When they made it to the cave mouth and the heavy door made by the masters from the bark of a Great Tree, fitted perfectly so it looked as if it had grown there, Jayah took a deep breath and pushed it open, then led him inside.

Inside, it was obvious her home wasn’t only a home, but also a hub for the healers. The previous inhabitant had been Aymora—a dear friend of Elreth’s parents, and a wise woman and counselor. As a female who’d lost a True Mate while she was still young, Aymora had preferred to keep instruction for young healers, and beds for patients there in her cave. There was a cage for any young adolescents who were struggling to dominate their beasts. Cots for the ill or injured. A massive table scattered mainly with mortar and pestles, jars of herbs, and texts that held recipes or instructions for certain medications.

While Jayah kept a great deal more privacy in her cave than Aymora ever had—the location wasn’t ideal for most patients being outside the main Tree City limits as it was—she’d never had reason to keep her home free of the clutter of her work. Because she’d never shared it.

“This is… my home,” she said. But there was something oddly hollow about the word suddenly. As Skhal stood, scanning the cave curiously, Jayah turned to face him, wondering how it must appear to him.

“That’s not entirely right,” she said suddenly.

Skhal turned to look at her, his eyebrows high. “This isn’t your cave?”

“Yes, yes it is, but… Skhal… I’ve lived here for years. Yet I could turn my back on this place in a heartbeat to be where you are. It is… It’s the place where I live. But you… you’re my home now.”

His eyes flared with heat and love and locked on hers.

And then he trembled.

He was so quiet, her mate. So careful with his words most of the time. She’d been shocked to sense the difference in him between the depth of what he felt, and what he expressed—and so glad that she could feel him, when he allowed it. Without that bond he might have been an enigma to her.

But she could feel him now—he was letting her have all of it. The churning hope, the desperate fear that they hadn’t yet summited the mountain of peace, the relief to be near her and without any immediate threat… and the patience. The dying patience.

He wanted her badly. He ached for her—and felt he should wait.

Jayah smiled at him and licked her lips. “We won’t be disturbed here unless… unless there’s a problem,” she said. “Are you hungry?” she asked cheekily when his eyes flared with a new rush of heat.

“Only for you,” he growled, and Jayah laughed as he came for her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her, long and slow.

They kissed for a long time, the cave silent of everything except the slowly deepening breaths, and the rustle of their clothing when they moved to touch each other.

But then, Skhal found his way through the buttons of her shirt, finding her breasts immediately and Jayah’s belly clenched and she reached for him as well, tugging at his belt to free him.

“Yes, Jayah, please,” he whispered against her lips. “I want you.”

She didn’t stop kissing him, didn’t rush her undressing of him, but she did tug him with her to walk back towards her sleeping platform—wide and scattered with furs.

When they were about to reach it she hesitated with her hands down the back of his pants, calculating whether she should have taken his shirt off first.

But Skhal only gave a low growl of satisfaction and leaned down to swing an arm under her and lift her up to the platform. She gasped and clung to his shoulders. But he only laid her down gently, shucked off his leathers, then tugged at hers, until Jayah lifted her hips and let him peel them off for her.

It was all a little breathless, and Jayah laughed when he didn’t get her trousers down low enough, so when she slumped he growled with frustration because he had to peel them down more deliberately.

But then when she was free, he crawled up and over her and they both sighed with relief when he settled his weight on her.

And then he kissed her… really kissed her. His hands explored and his body tightened against her, but his lips… Jayah could have spent days just kissing him, reveling in the soft probe of his tongue, and gentle slide of his lips—and the way his breath fluttered in her ear, her hair, when he grew aroused.

He still had his shirt on, so she began on those buttons until she could slide her hands between the fabric and his skin, just as he’d done for her.

Then his touches grew more heated, more intentional—rather than just exploring, he teased, stroking, finding the places that made her shiver and goosebump—and that sensitive nub that made her back arch and her breath stop.

He’d taken so long, playing and teasing, that she was beginning to ache inside, her arches becoming more demanding, and her hands clinging to his back, pulling him against her. And still he didn’t press himself against her, or enter her.

As her breath became shallower, faster, she was tempted to growl at him, to demand him. But just as she tensed, readying herself to simply ask, he wrapped both arms around her and rolled them, flipping to his back and pulling her up and over him.