The Lost Elixir

Chapter Twelve

Apologies never failed in making the giver and the receiver uncomfortable.

There was no beating around the bush when the person giving the apology was in the wrong first. In fact, the thought of taking that step made Jarrah Pinestone mildly uncomfortable.

The Fae rarely, if ever, apologized. Every move, every word, and every thought was intentional. People were allowed to have disagreements, conflicting thoughts, and debates without having to feel sorry for them. What was the point of feeling guilty if one always meant what they say? Even if someone was to make a mistake, it was a universal rule that accidents happen, and instead of dwelling on it, you simply fix it and move on. Not that apologies were extinct in the Fae community, but it just wasn't in their culture to dwell on them.

But for the second time in his life, Jarrah was compelled to apologize.

He hadn't meant to be so harsh with Rayne. He honestly didn't know where the rush of hot rage had come from until it had already overtaken his body and took control of his voice. The words he shot off his tongue were wrong and his anger misplaced. Mentally, he knew it wasn't Rayne's fault that her father sent the young wolf after her. He knew she was just as upset about it as he was, but that did little to stop his actions at the time.

Rayne had ignored him for the rest of the day after their dispute. Much to Jarrah's dismay, her silence nagged at the pit of his stomach. The thought of his words hurting her enough to silence didn't sit right with him, and he was surprised to find that he was disgusted with himself for it. He didn't know how he felt about the annoying wolf yet, but he did know he wasn't behaving very 'kingly' once again, and hurt someone for the sake of doing it. Enemy or not, shifter or not, she hadn't deserved it.

The next morning, after waking up long before the sun began her steady incline into the orange splash of sky, Jarrah went hunting. They both had hardly eaten the night before, so he knew Rayne would wake up even more hungry than usual. He didn't know if she'd accept his peace offering, but he sure as hell hoped she would. After he explained a few things, at least.

Much to his luck, and patience, Jarrah found an older doe. He sacredly prayed to the Creator, thanked Her for Her generous abundance, and slid his bow slowly up to his chest. With his arrow comfortably resting between his fingers as he drew the string back, he took a steady breath to ready himself, and then released them both swiftly.

The older doe left his world quickly and quietly, without so much as a squeak. Animals were sacred creatures, and Jarrah was no stranger to treating them as such. He used every part of the animal, killed them quickly so they wouldn't suffer, and prayed over their safe journey back to the Creator. It was the most humane method the Fae could find when it came to gathering meat.

Jarrah spent the rest of the morning cleaning the meat, cooking it, and keeping the tendons to soak for sinew. It wasn't until he made his way over to the sleeping white wolf that Rayne stirred at all during his busy morning.

He couldn't deny . . . Rayne's wolf was beautiful. Entrancing in her dipped ivory fur with splashes of silver shooting through the individual strands, he'd never seen a shifter look as majestic as she did. Though the size of her wolf was bigger than most other animals in the forest, perhaps even rivaling that of a bear, she was smaller than the typical shifters he was used to seeing. She was almost . . . adorable?

What the hell? Adorable?

Jarrah clenched his fist at the odd thought and carefully bent down to place the cooked meat in front of her muzzle, before moving a good distance away. He ran his fingers through the long length of his dark hair, removing the strays from his face, and sat cross-legged across from her body. Any moment, and she'd wake. And he would take that as his only chance to apologize.