immediately has me concerned for her welfare. Thankfully she doesn’t suffocate but regains enough of her breath back to shriek at me.
“Wh—what? Are you telling me that you know where I am at any moment of the day, no matter where I am?” she asks, intonation rising with each word and ending with a snarl.
Snarling! How adorable! But I hate that she seems so distressed. It really isn’t necessary, but I don’t know how to resolve the issue.
I consider doubling back and recanting, given how alarmed she appears, but ultimately that won’t help us any. The moment she called to my magic and established the bond, there’s no backing out for me like there might be for other males who select a female. Without the magic being returned through her love, I will wane and die.
Of course, it may just be delaying the inevitable. A unicorn can seize a mate so that he can court her in his grotto, but it doesn’t guarantee a mating. And unlike other males, I don’t have the luxury of trying again if she refuses the bond. I must get her to my grotto one way or another to have a chance at a true courtship, and I don’t want her to try to run away from me. That would just scare her more than necessary. I don’t want that. At my nod, however, she grows more incensed.
“Well, you can just stop then because that’s some next level stalker shit. I don’t want you anywhere near me!” she spits out vehemently.
A sense of doubt rises insidiously from my gut, and I cock my head at her in confusion. It is not a matter of what she wants—or even what I want, since I did not consciously choose her. It just is what it is. For my kind, there’s no denying the call of magic.
“I don’t understand. You are my ahandral. There is no stopping it. You simply are what you were born to be,” I reply.
She swipes a hand over her face, and the breath she draws into her lungs is tremulous, as is her voice as she mumbles a defeated, “This is nuts.” She takes another breath, this one steadier, and meets my eyes, her gaze hard despite the fear lurking within the depths of those eyes.
I hate that she’s frightened. The gifts of my species are supposed to make this easier on her, less traumatic.
But then again, if this is her reaction without unicorn magic easing the way, maybe we are the sort of monsters that other species consider us to be if we have to deaden these feelings in order to steal them. This is not something that I’ve considered before. I have never given any thought to how a female would react without our magic influencing them. That I was raised believing that it eases their transition into our world suddenly sickens me.
I’m not above trickery on principle, but I want my mate to come with me with all of her fire still burning. I don’t want my mate lying half-limp over my withers like some other females whisked away by their mates. Imagining her in their place breaks my heart. Even though they never appear unhappy when they later go with their mates to the Heart of Wells, where their matings are permanently bound by the magic of the eldest of our kind, I can’t erase the image from my mind or its implications when my ahandral resists so fiercely.
No. It’s odd that the magic failed me, but I don’t regret it.
“There is no choice… for either of us. I could have chosen a female and stolen her away, but I waited for you—for my ahandral. Because you are the one I’ve waited for and longed for all of my life, and now that you are here, I can’t leave you. I can’t forget you or not know where you are because you are a part of me now,” I reply quietly.
“And so you just decided to barge into my house the moment you arrive at my door?” she retorts with a bewildered glare.
That is a fair criticism, and I feel a burning hot sense of shame. I did not consider it from her perspective. I had merely wanted to impress my mate with my fetch-form.
She watches me, her expression and posture guarded. I don’t attempt to approach. I have intruded more than I am now comfortable with. I’m not sure if I should just leave and give her some