Noa in his arms was intoxicating. Not just the fact of her—her weight, the way her body fit against his chest and shoulder—but the smell of her. Still air-drying and damp from the water, her clothes held onto it, a soft, cool cling that lingered each time he drew a breath. Flowers, impossibly. Like a bucket of them overturned in his arms. The scent washed over him pleasantly.

  The last time he had even looked at a flower had been to apologize with it. Kino had scolded him afterward for buying the wrong kind and not buying enough. It had been three tesera since then.

  Since Uril was born.

  The memory should have soured everything. It should have twisted the moment into something bitter and wrong. Instead, it faded at the edges and left behind something quieter and more dangerous. That had been for the life that ended.

  Now this was his flower.

  His wife.

  The word still felt too large and too precise all at once. Noa was warm where she rested against him, her body held carefully tense, like she didn’t yet trust the space his arms made for her. She seemed practical. Steady. He hazarded to guess she would not enjoy discovering how deeply rooted his feelings about marriage truly were. This wasn’t panic or infatuation.

  He had died. Death had stripped everything down to what mattered. His last thoughts had been an apology to his father and regret that he was still alone.

  And Noa had agreed.

  “What’s making that sound?” Noa asked in his arms, her head shifting as she tried to look past his shoulders into the trees and brush.

  The movement brushed her cheek closer to his collarbone. Instinctively, his grip adjusted—one arm tightening, the other subtly shifting to keep her balanced. The shift put more weight on his bad leg.

  [Endurance 12]

  “What?” he asked, ears straining now that she’d named it.

  The forest was never quiet. Insects stitched the air with sound. The frogs sang through the undergrowth in layered, high-pitched chirping. He passive-activated his skill.

  [Resonance 12 ^^^]

  The return was faint without the tuning rod, a dull echo instead of a clear map. Motion registered at the edges of awareness. Just a couple wolves, padding along behind them at an unhurried distance.

  Odd.

  “The birds,” she said. “I haven’t seen any but I can hear them.”

  “Birds?” Benjera said. “They usually get eaten by the frogs.”

  Noa tilted her face up toward his, close enough that he could see the way her brows pulled together. “Frogs? That sound, the chirping is frogs? I haven’t even seen any frogs— Frogs? Gross.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  He felt the grin spread before he decided on it. Noa truly had no frame of reference here. The irony was too clean to waste. “I like frogs. They taste great. I could eat frog all day.”

  She was disgusted, leaning back from him like his breath suddenly began to smell. “Frogs are… slimy!”

  Benjera leveled his gaze at her, letting the pause stretch just enough. “Exactly.”

  She stared at him, disbelief widening her eyes. “What do you mean exactly? Do you eat them raw?!”

  The laugh tore out of him before he could stop it, sudden and rough with breath that couldn’t help turning into a slight cough. This was such a filthy conversation. The temptation was too perfect. “Always.”

  Benjera laughed harder as her face twisted with horror. He couldn’t help himself. “I’m sorry. In Hassa we call women picked up in the forest frogs.”

  Noa’s face went red all at once. Even in his arms he felt the way her entire body drew tight. She squeaked out the indignant words, “I do not forgive you!”

  “Too bad,” he said, trying to keep it light. “You’re stuck with me.”

  And he was stuck with the champion of the death god.

  The weight of that pressed inward all at once, sudden and suffocating. It made his head swim for half a breath. He pushed the thought away before it could take root and activated his skill again.

  [Endurance 12]

  [Resonance 12 ^^^]

  Three wolves now. Still tailing them. Still measured. The population really was out of control. Maybe after getting Noa settled he’d sweep the forest again.

  Noa.

  She was beautiful and blushing in his arms, eyes refusing to meet his now, her embarrassment radiating off her in small, tense movements she clearly didn’t know what to do with.

  Benjera had a wife.

  The consequences would come. They always did. For now she was adorable, trapped between dignity and mortification, and it softened something in him he didn’t want softened. Or maybe this was exactly what he needed.

  He started to feel a little bad.

  “Too soon?” Benjera asked.

  “I’m going to make you regret teasing me,” Noa said, the threat stiff. Her green eyes flashed dangerously. Benjera bit back the urge to point out how sexy that was when movement caught his eye.

  Benjera stepped up onto the root of a tree, off to the west between the trunks. One wolf, clearly. Was that another deeper back?

  “Please do,” he said seriously to her, holding on to the conversation but unable to look at her reaction.

  She scoffed and shifted in his arms, the motion awkward with uncertainty. Benjera set her down carefully in front of him, the sudden absence of her weight making his arms feel oddly empty. He unclipped his tuning rod and brought it down in a sharp slap against the root while she stared at him in confusion.

  [Resonance 12 ^^^]

  The forest answered all at once.

  Ten wolves.

  And something else with them—dense, heavy, wrong-shaped in the sense echoed. A meaty, boar-faced creature moving with the pack instead of being hunted by it. They were not behaving like he was used to. The wolves loved to hunt the bigger monsters.

  They were forming a ring. Not around the boar thing. Around them.

  Benjera looked down at Noa’s face.

  "What?" she asked. Noa was ignorant of the danger closing around her. She was waiting for him to say something with worry in her expression. This had nothing to do with the wolf population. They were hunting her like she was a construct.

  Noa certainly had the mana of a construct.

  He pulled his DIS up again.

  Race: Human

  Doubt crawled along the back of his neck, cold and persistent, but he swallowed it and let the system’s verdict stand.

  “It’s been long enough since I last used a [Dash],” Benjera told her, clipping the tuning rod again. “Let’s run to the city. You need rest.”

  And he didn’t want to fight that many monsters with just a dagger.

  The thrill chased him anyway. He could. The thought sparked hard and tempting. Benjera wanted to. He wanted to feed the trees blood and sweat. He wanted to win.

  But Noa mattered more now.

  She didn’t complain when he lifted her again and tucked her back against his chest.

  [Dash 13 ^^^^]