Page 73 of Xara and the Xenobeast

“You’re hurt,” she said, gently guiding him toward the cave.

His tendrils brushed her face, a soft, questioning touch. “Dravak?”

“Gone,” he rumbled, the word vibrating through his chest. “Won’t return.”

The simple statement carried the weight of liberation. She felt tears spring to her eyes, unexpected but impossible to hold back. She pressed her forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat—strong, steady, alive.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered.

Inside the cave, the pups greeted them with excited chirps, rushing to climb Ash’s legs despite his injuries. He allowed it, his expression softening as Dot nuzzled against his palm.

She gathered her supplies: the healing moss that grew near the thermal spring, clean water, strips of fiber she’d salvaged from the trees. She carefully cleaned each wound, frowning at the damage.

“Some of these need binding,” she murmured. “The moss will help, but it’s not enough.”

He watched her work, his eyes never leaving her face. There was something different in his gaze now—a clarity, a presence that hadn’t been there before. As if in confronting Vask, he’d confronted the last of his ghosts.

“You fought well,” he said quietly as she pressed a moss poultice to his shoulder, and she smiled

“I had a good teacher.”

His hand caught hers, stilling her movements. “You were already strong.”

The simple statement warmed her more than any elaborate praise could have. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his—a gentle kiss, an affirmation of life.

A soft chiming sound interrupted them. She pulled back, startled, as three figures appeared at the cave entrance—Tal’shai, their slender bodies glowing with subtle bioluminescence, their eyes reflective in the dim light.

“They’ve come,” he said, making no move to rise despite his wounds.

The tallest of the Tal’shai stepped forward, carrying a woven basket. Their movements were fluid, almost musical, as they approached and knelt before them. The basket contained what looked like ribbons—iridescent, semi-transparent strands that caught the firelight.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Resin bindings,” he explained, his voice low. “A recognition.”

The Tal’shai spoke then, their language a melodic series of clicks and chimes that Xara couldn’t understand. But she recognized the reverence in their gestures, the way they presented the bindings with both hands extended.

Ash translated haltingly. “They say... the forest has witnessed our bond. That we fought as one against those who would harm this place.” He paused, something like wonder crossing his face. “They accept us as mates.”

The word ‘mates’ sent a shiver through her. It felt primal, ancient—and absolutely right.

The Tal’shai continued, and his eyes widened slightly. “They wish to share knowledge with you. They say you have... the heart of a healer. That you should know their ways.”

She looked at the delicate beings, then back at Ash. “Tell them I would be honored.”

As he translated, the Tal’shai’s bioluminescent patterns brightened with what she interpreted as pleasure. The tallest one approached, taking one of the resin bindings from the basket. With ceremonial precision, they wrapped it around her wrist, then Ash’s, binding them together.

The resin was warm against her skin, almost alive. As it settled, it seemed to mold itself to her, becoming a perfect fit—neither too tight nor too loose.

The Tal’shai spoke again, and this time, she thought she caught fragments of meaning—protection, unity, growth.

“What did they say?” she whispered.

His voice was rough with emotion. “That we are now part of their protection. That they will watch over us, as we watched over each other.”

The Tal’shai completed the ritual by placing small pouches of what looked like seeds or spores near the fire, then bowed deeply before retreating. Their departure was as silent as their arrival, leaving only the faint echo of chimes in the air.

She examined the binding on her wrist, marveling at how it caught the light. “It’s beautiful.”

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