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“Oh, Tarkyn... it’s beautiful,” Harth breathed.

They’d had to crawl through portions of the ravine that were overgrown with bush and vines, but that had only reassured Tarkyn that they were unlikely to meet other travelers out here.

Both of them were speaking more easily now, walking with less tension when they didn’t have to crawl through vines and branches.

He’d drawn Harth through the dark, narrow ravine with its high, rock walls and trees growing even from the cracks in them. Between the rock walls that curved overhead until they almost touched, and the vines and branches from the trees, very little of the sun could be seen in the ravine. It brightened a little when the walls gave way and opened to the wooded area, but the trees here were small and thick, slow-growers with dense canopy.

It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the wood and Tarkyn couldn’t bury his smile any longer that he turned to her, taking her hand to draw her forward through the last of the bushes. They’d broken through the last of the dim shadows to be washed in warm sunlight reflecting from the face of the mountain above them.

But that wasn’t what had made her eyes go wide and her jaw drop.

There was a reason this was Tarkyn’s favorite place, and one he’d never shared before. He’d discovered it once in his youth when he’d been just old enough to begin feeling the weight of responsibility without yet having developed the strength to bear all of it.

He’d been allowed a few days break from shifts, and he’d gone alone into the WildWood for the first time. He’d needed solitude, but everywhere he’d turned he seemed to keep meeting patrols or hunters.

.....

He’d been fleeing, he realized now. When he’d seen the darkness of the ravine, a part of him had hoped it would discourage others-and a part of him hoped he’d find a silent one with a den that he would have to fight and might vent some of his tension in the process.

But then he’d come out of the woods in this exact spot and he’d knew his face had made almost that exact expression.

In his mind, he’d called the lagoon the Creator’s Oasis.

Under their feet was a carpet of thick grass that spread out all the way to the edges of the bowl in the land that held this clearing. In deep summer Tarkyn knew it would be long enough that he could throw Harth down in it and be hidden from watchers. But at this time of year it was shorter, thick and spongey under them.

Just feet away, the grass began to give way, thinning, then fading completely into the rich, brown soil of the banks of the lagoon, punctuated by flat boulders and sandy areas scattered with small but beautiful trees, all of which leaned towards the water as if to trail their branches through it.

The contrast of the deep green grass with the rich brown soil that was almost red, was only heightened by the incredible aquamarine of the lagoon itself, its waters clear and deep and such a bright reflection of sky’s blue it never failed to steal Tarkyn’s breath.

Watched over by one of the towering peaks of the northern range, a rippling white waterfall wider than two grown, male anima laying feet to head poured into the lagoon, its thundering rush leaving the entire clearly with a cover of natural sound that always made Tarkyn feel like he’d been wrapped in a blanket of beautiful noise.

The rock walls climbed high and steep around them, increasing the sense of being hidden from the world

But Tarkyn had been here dozens of times. And while the beauty of the place still impacted him every time, it was the look on Harth’s face that made his heart sing. She clung to his hand, staring around like a cub at their first feast-eyes wide and round, darting left and right. Her body still, but quivering with excitement.

He could feel it in her-the rush of relief, of joy, and of thrill.

She let go of his hand to cover her mouth with both hands, then turned to stare at him with sparling eyes. “We’re staying here?”

Tarkyn nodded excitedly, then pulled her into a brief kiss. He ached for her, ached to discard the weight of the day they’d had. But there was still more to show her first. And likely some work to do in the cave.

Harth didn’t breathe when he kissed her, clinging to him, her body trembling. But when they broke apart, he grinned. “Let me show you.”

Then he led her around the lagoon-behind the clusters of trees on its bank, to the narrow trail that someone had widened into the rocky sides of the mountain that climbed around the side of the bowl to a height halfway up the waterfall, where its water poured to its widest flow, shining and glittering under the sun-and arched feet away from the rocks underneath.

From the clearing itself both the path and the gap under the waterfall couldn’t be seen, hidden by trees and the curve of the land and water. But from here only the light spray of the water, tiny beads of it floating in the air, touched their skins.

Because the rocks overhung the mouth of the cave, the water of the falls covered it like a curtain-allowing light, but no view. And as Tarkyn drew the gaping Harth under the flow of water and into the cave, she shook her head in disbelief.

He’d been coming here since the summer after the War of the wolves. During that time he’d brought various conveniences, one at a time, until these days the cave was almost as comfortable as one near the Tree City.

Whoever had widened the trail on the side of the mountain had also carved a sleeping platform at the end of the cave, which wasn’t very deep, but quite wide. Tarkyn had brought enough furs out here to keep himself warm, even in winter, in case he was ever stuck by the weather. He’d carried the wood for shelves, and a set of drawers. A natural chimney had been carved out of the rocky walls at some point by the Creator Himself. It curved up from a hollow in the side of the floor near the front of the cave, and when a fire was built in there, the smoke was naturally drawn up and out of the cave.

There were cooking utensils, cast-iron pans, and a dozen other conveniences Tarkyn had brought her during the past almost two decades. Everything needed to make it a home-a second home-except a mate.

Tarkyn loved this place. But there had been lonely nights here tainted by the ache of unquenched desire, and despairing prayers, begging the Creator to reveal the missing piece of his heart. He’d come less and less in recent years-then not at all the year before because of the invasion of the humans and the subsequent work.

But now he was back. And she was at his side.

His beautiful, soft-hearted, warm mate, who was staring around the cave, open mouthed... and with tears trailing down her cheeks?

*****

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