Word Count: 2064

~Kiva

It's a clear, beautiful night tonight.

The moon is full, shining its milky light over the snow lying peacefully over the lawn.

I could stare down at the sight of it for all eternity I've decided, leaning my cheek against the cold window sill.

A figure shifts distantly, right at the edge of the forest.

I straighten, squinting my eyes through the darkness.

It's impossible to decipher who it is, but deep down, I know I'm looking at my mate.

Scrambling up, I throw a coat over my shoulders, shove some boots on my feet and lace them up as quickly as my numb fingers allow before I consider how I'm going to get down to him.

Ark is outside my door...

I could scale down the trellis below my window, but it's high off the ground, caked with ice and laced with sharp brambles.

But what choice do I have?

Gritting my teeth, I flip the latch and slide the window up as silently as possible, wincing at the cool blast of icy winter air as it hits my face.

Of all Territories my ancient relatives decided to conquer, why one deep in the mountains, constantly harassed by snow?

Glancing back at my door, I suck in a breath and slip out the window.

The icy air seizes my entire body as I clamber down. I take it slow, steady, not stopping until my feet sink into the fluffy snow.

Brushing ice off my gloves, I make my way quickly to the edge of the forest and beyond, making it to where I know my mate will be waiting for me.

And sure enough, he's there, leaning against a tree trunk.

"Whatever happened last time will not be happening again. Got it?" I say immediately.

The last thing I need is for us to charge at each other and rip our clothes off without actually speaking. That's not the point of this exchange.

He nods, keeping his casual standing position.

"You better be willing to talk this time," I say, wary that this will be another speechless staring match.

He reaches into his pocket, and for a fearful moment, I'm convinced he is going to pull out a knife and slaughter me amidst the snow.

Instead, he pulls out a leather-bound notebook, followed by a pen.

"Ah. Notepad and pen, huh?"

I shouldn't be surprised. At least it's something, though. It's a way of communicating, even if it's another way for him to prove to me that he isn't willing to pull his hood back.

He flips it open, scribbling something in it before holding it out for me to read.

'I don't want to put you in danger by revealing who I am.'

My blood chills, and not just because of the bitter chill of the night air that crawls under my thick coat.

Is he implying I know him?

"Put you in danger or me?" I ask, seeking the clarification that I've wanted since he broke in that first night.

Who he works for terrifies me more than who he is. He may have been dragged into the rebels' grasp with no escape. He may be trapped...or, he may have every intention of continuing his tyranny.

He's quick with what he writes next.

'I care about you.'

I frown. That's not an answer, but he wasn't going to give me one anyway.

I scowl. "You tried to kill me."

'None of this was about hurting you. My intentions that night were not to take your life.'

He draws the notepad back once I've read from it. His shoulders are tense, and I can tell he's reading my expression, willing me to believe him.

I'm doubtful, though. He did pin me against the bed that night as if he were waiting for something, but whatever was about to be my fate may have been more unpleasant than being murdered by him.

"Why should I believe you?" I demand.

'Because we are mates.'

I sigh through my nose. That's not enough for me. Mate bonds have been shredded apart by far less, and although every fibre in my body is begging me to trust him, to bring him into my life, I know I can't.

"I can't be with you. Not like this," I tell him firmly.

The wind picks up as he continues to write. It sounds eerie, whipping through the trees, causing the boughs to creak, for fat clumps of snow to fall around us.

'I understand.'

"You need to back off. No more breaking into my home."

I can't tell if I want this threat neutralised more than I want to see him again. It's wrong, but this bond forged by nature is not easy to forgo.

'A lot of that is out of my control.'

I stare at the words, at his precise handwriting.

He doesn't rank highly, I presume. There must be a leader controlling this group, who isn't my mate. I figured as much, but it's chilling knowing how little my one ally can do.

"Then try, please? You have no idea the stress I'm facing," I insist, resting my palms against my chest, feeling my heart beating fiercely beneath.

He clears his throat. It's a deep, masculine sound that I wish would reveal more than it does.

'My sincerest apologies.'

His fingers tremble a little as he pulls the notepad back. He wants me. I can feel him fighting his urges with all his strength.

"If you take off your hood right now, we could run away together. Escape all this and start fresh," I blurt out, stepping at him.

I'm a fool. I'm making a terrible mistake offering myself up like this, but everything has built up inside me, and I don't think I have the strength to contain it any longer.

He takes his time writing his response, considering it.

'I wish I could do that.'

"Why can't you?"

'I have ties elsewhere. Other obligations.'

Other obligations? What does that mean? It feels like another riddle, or a puzzle spliced together incorrectly, forcing me to rearrange all the pieces to make it coherent.

"But I'm your mate." I grimace at my own tone, at the desperation that seeps off it.

He remains deadly calm, his stance not shifting as he quietly examines me. I can practically hear him sifting through his thoughts, weighing up his response.

He scribbles purposefully, holding the notepad out to me.

'I'm sorry.'

A lump gathers in my throat, difficult to swallow past. I feel hopelessly lost and confused, fearful of what awaits me in my future.

"So what now?"

'Give me time.'

He pulls the book back, pausing, before adding something beneath the above phrase.

'I can't stay away from you.'

My heart stutters. I don't know how to convey the same thought without making it more difficult to walk away, or to make us more likely to replay what happened against the tree weeks earlier.

"It's hard for me to get away. I have a suffocating personal guard," I say thickly.

Glancing back through the trees, I examine the moonlit path to ensure Ark isn't lurking nearby. He shouldn't know about my daring escape, but if he did learn of it, I have no doubt he would follow my footsteps out here.

My mate shows me his notepad again.

'Kill him.'

"Why would I do that?" A bad taste gathers in my mouth. Is the true character of the man in front of me about to be revealed?

'Your personal guard will soon be of no value to you. It will be me that protects you.'

There is so much to understand about that, but he doesn't give me much time, pulling the paper back. Are they planning on killing Ark? They were almost successful once...

"You can't even stop your group from pursuing me...I don't even know what they want," I remind him coldly.

'I can still protect you, and I am.'

The rebels' attacks have lessened...Am I to thank him? Has he been working to reduce this?

I shake the thought from my head, concentrating on what he's asking me to do. "I'm not going to kill Ark. He is no friend of mine, but I'm not a killer."

Ark would easily see an attack coming, would adeptly disarm me and ask me questions that I would not be able to answer.

My mate seems apprehensive as he shows me what he has written.

'I am a killer.'

"I know. That doesn't surprise me," I mutter. I've tried to banish that reality from my mind. It's easy, since I've been doing that since Ark became my personal guard.

'Ark is a killer too.'

"How much do you know about him?" I question. It's not a leap for him to assume Ark is a killer, and he is a well known mercenary.

What if my mate has crossed paths with Ark?

'I've said too much.'

I advance on my mate, and for once, he concedes a few steps, not interested in proximity this evening. He knows I'm asking too much, that he has revealed more than he should have.

"Maybe you should try to kill him, then," I venture, testing his response.

His pen hovers over the page, before he slowly writes out what he wants me to see.

'The Ark you know will die soon.'

I startle. "What does that mean?"

'GO HOME, Kiva.'

His use of capital letters is brash enough to stun me. Tucking his notepad and pen back into his pocket, he turns and departs back into the depths of the forest.

I could chase him, demand more answers, but I'm scared of what that will result in.

So, taking my defeat, I stalk back toward the manor. This may be the last time I ever see my mate again, and it ended so unsavoury.

Reaching the challis, I grumble a profanity under my breath before scaling it up toward my bedroom window.

That exchange has killed all my hope. Not that I had much to begin with, but-

My foot suddenly slips, the frail wood of the trellis snapping, sending me hurtling back toward the ground.

I land straight on my back.

All the air rushes from my lungs in an instance, leaving me gasping, curling up into a ball as I clutch my abdomen.

Eventually, I breathe in enough air for my panic to subside. I roll on my back, staring up at the glittering night sky, feeling ridiculed by the peaceful beauty of it.

I was asking for that fall...I made the climb with thoughts plagued by my mate. I wasn't concentrating.

All at once, a stinging sensation forces me to look toward my left forearm.

It's buried half deep in the snow, and when I draw it up, my stomach tightens at the sight of my torn coat, blood seeping from it.

I cut myself. Great.

Gritting my teeth, I roll my sleeve back enough to get a good look. It's a nasty gash, which thankfully doesn't appear too deep, and doesn't hurt as bad as my shame does.

"I fucked up," I mutter to myself, struggling onto my feet.

Looking up, I stare up at my window. There's no way I'm scaling an icy wall with nothing but a few sad vines and what is left of the trellis. And unless I want to spend all night bleeding out and freezing, I need to make my way back up to my room.

And there's only one way back up.

Sighing, I amble my way through the back door, anticipating the reaction is going to have, especially when he eventually forces me to admit my reasoning for leaving my room in the middle of the night.

Drops of blood follow me upstairs, streaks of it flowing down my arm and to my fingertips.

Sure enough, Ark is leaning against the wall opposite to my close bedroom door, reading a book under the dim light.

At the sound of my tentative footsteps, he looks up, his expression immediately shifting.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" He growls.

I knew it. I'm done for.

💛••💛

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! and as always it is available 10 chapters ahead on Radish!

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~Midika 💜🐼