My Wild Beast-Chapter 97: Her Serakai (2)

Music Recommendation: Lover // Over the Moon by Alice Phoebe Lou

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After bathing, Yoa asked her where Nova wished to rest more. He wouldn’t be there when she woke up, and hated that he had to leave her, but his duty called to him. She could sense it down the bond, how he disliked leaving her so soon, but needing to patrol as a sensation similar to that of a cat pitter-pattering down his back grew firmer. It must have been the call of Tayun.

After learning more about how he became Yiska, Nova didn’t let him explain further for a moment more. She knew how important it was and she didn’t feel bad at all at the idea of being left after they’d spent the evening together in utter bliss.

Still, he worried. She could sense it. The last time he’d left her in the treehouse, he’d returned to discover his enemy dared to kidnap her and brand her with a false Nokari bond.

"I’m not going anyway," she whispered, answering his silent concerns before he could voice them. Yoa pressed his head to hers, and remained like that for a moment, inhaling her scent, letting it wrap around him more.

Then he laid her down on her chosen hammock. She lay cocooned in it, suspended beneath the canopy, and made herself comfortable. One leg lazily hooked over the side, her fingertips trailing along the edge of the netting. Her body still hummed. It was a deep, velvet kind of ache that came from being completely undone—and then put back together as something more.

Something whole.

Yoa had left her a few moments ago. Not without pressing a kiss to her temple, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and asking again if she was sure she was alright. She’d answered with a sleepy smile and a nudge to his ribs. He’d left only after arranging fresh fruit near the hammock like she was some jungle goddess in need of spoiling.

And maybe she was.

Nova plucked a slice of mango from the bowl beside her, the juice sweet on her tongue. She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the warmth of the morning, letting herself float between the rustling leaves and the golden haze of memory.

Last night.

His hands. His mouth. His voice, low and reverent. The way the stars had moved across the sky like they’d had bowed to them, joyful to their bond merging. The mark on her collarbone still tingled faintly, as if the magic wasn’t quite done with her yet. She traced it with her fingers. It shimmered faintly in the light, silver and star-blessed, a perfect match to the one that had appeared on Yoa’s chest.

She was still trying to believe it had all happened. That she could feel this safe, this known, this loved.

Not that he’d said the word. Of course not. That wasn’t Yoa’s way. But gods, he didn’t need to. Love was in everything that he did. It was in the way he looked at her like she was the sun breaking through the clouds. In the way he held her after. In the fruit. In the hammock. In the fact that he’d only left because duty demanded it.

She smiled to herself, a soft laugh curling in her throat as a breeze danced across her skin. She was over the moon. In love. Unapologetically, wholly, with no need to define it further. It was carved into her bones now.

A butterfly landed on her wrist. She didn’t move. It flexed its wings, a soft burst of colour against her skin before drifting away again.

Everything felt... brighter.

Not in a loud, overwhelming way. But in that still glow that lingers after a night of firelight and whispered vows. A warmth that settles in your belly and spreads to your fingertips, reminding you that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

She wasn’t thinking about her old world. The city. The noise. The ache in her chest that had followed her like a shadow every now and then, reminding her of how far away she was from it all. It was quiet now.

Replaced by birdsong. By fruit juice. By a bond that sang in her skin like a remembered song.

Nova stretched her arms overhead, a contented sigh slipping past her lips. The hammock rocked gently beneath her like a lullaby set to the pulse of the island.

She closed her eyes again and whispered to no one, "I don’t ever want to forget this feeling."

The island answered as the leaves rustled more, the hushing of nearby birds followed before the wind wound through her hair like a lover’s touch.

For once, she didn’t need to chase meaning or run from fear. She just was—floating in the afterglow, cradled in the arms of Isla de Tayun.

And when Yoa returned, she would still be glowing.

"...Bubbles right over... And makes me feel over the moon... You make me feel over the moooon... la di da..." Nova sung to herself lightly, feeling almost blissed out, like she was high on love. It should be disturbing, but it wasn’t. Maybe the singing part was though because nobody needed to hear her sing.

"Is there a dying bird around here...?" Atia’s jest wouldn’t disturb this feeling, as his shadow fell on her, and she gazed up at him with a soft sigh.

"Good night?" Atia grinned knowingly.

Aiyana smacked his chest as she rounded him and leaned against one of the wooden poles to the balcon above. "Do you need anything?" She asked, a flicker of concern running over the small love bites on Nova’s neck and chest.

"Yoa’s taken care of me," Nova murmured, her cheeks warming a little under their gazes.

"I bet he did," Atia chuckled and yelped at Aiyana flicking his ear. "What?" The laughter didn’t leave his voice. "She’s glowing. Don’t be jealous now-"

Aiyana arched an eyebrow at Atia, giving him a dead look. "Now she’s prettier than you," he winked, and she rolled her eyes.

"You do look radiant. And I am jealous but because like everyone else, I’d love to have my own Serakai," Aiyana sighed, for once seeming more like a girl than the warrior princess Nova had come to see her as.

"Well, its definitely not that croc shifter," Atia scoffed, and jumped over Nova to land in the hammock across from her, his arms spread wide.

Aiyana’s cheeks reddened and she glared at him. "No, but he is a worthy mate-"

"That... he is not," Atia glowered back. "Sammy is just a tool."

"His name’s not Sammy!"

Atia shrugged. "I don’t care. And neither should you. You deserve better than that vicious prick."

Welp, there goes the blissful clouds around Nova’s mind. That was the first time she’d ever heard Atia or anyone on this island swear. Wasn’t prick a modern word? Wasn’t any swearing? Was this the influence of the previous Electa?

Aiyana glared at him but she didn’t comment further, realising they were bursting Nova’s little lovesick bubble. Atia was still grumbling about this crocodile shifter, really showing his dislike for the guy and possibly the signs of jealousy, whether Aiyana knew this or not, Nova wasn’t sure for certain.

"His name’s Sahco, not sicko," Aiyana huffed after hearing Atia’s grumble.

Nova frowned at the name. It rang a bell. She lifted more mango to her lips as she tried to go through her memory. But she was a little exhausted and didn’t really plan on doing much today besides waiting for her love to return.

Did that make her lazy? Maybe.

But she was allowed at least one lazy day right?

"I’m going to go hunt," Aiyana pushed away from the post, and stalked off, throwing over her shoulder. "By myself."

Nova’s brows shot up, cringing as she looked at Atia. His fingers tapped on the netting of the hammock but he didn’t comment or move as he watched Aiyana go.

"You know... you could just tell her how you feel..." Nova murmured once she knew for certain Aiyana was nowhere near them.

Atia’s head snapped back to look at her. "Uhuh... I think someones just riding the high of their Serakai bond and expecting the island and its people to be on the same trip," Atia snorted, waving it off in jest.

Nova pursed her lips with a frown but she didn’t bother pushing it more. He was right. Perhaps she was a little high, and she had no intention of letting anyone ruin her mood. Actually at this point, it didn’t even seem possible.

After a while, Atia started playing some strange instrument, but the music was oddly calming. Nova gazed at it, watching his expert fingers. He plucked and struck at a strange bow-like instrument cradled against his torso. The string vibrated beneath his gingers while the gourd at its base ampliftied the sound.

She had never seen it before, yet the name brushed her lips, gifted to her like the knowledge of their language. "Berimbau?" She murmured and grinned, nodding without pausing.

She then drifted off to the sound, completely content in the comfortable hammock and Atia playing his tunes.

That was until Atia grew bored like he usually did, and roused her with the following question.

"Want to learn how to shoot a bow?"