Eliza's Miracle Read online

  “Isn’t this beautiful?” Melanie said to her in awe as she rubbernecked left and right to get a better view of their surroundings. And why shouldn’t she be interested? Melanie mated into Tagith society. In a manner of speaking, this was her home now, if she and Dareth ever decided to return to settle.

  Eliza didn’t see that happening any time soon, as both seemed to be committed to their responsibilities on the space station. Still, she could imagine the pair ending up there. Everything was so beautiful and full of life—and blessedly mellow, unlike the busy cities that Eliza had been stuck in. Tagess was a beautiful place for her daughter to eventually make a more permanent home when she was ready.

  “It is,” Eliza agreed, smiling fondly at her eldest child.

  Melanie craned her head back to look at her mate. “So where are we heading?”

  “Father and I discussed it, and he wishes for all of us to stay at the family nest,” Dareth said as the ship settled firmly onto the rock below them. Zerik nodded his head, looking a shade less dour than normal, so Eliza assumed that the offer must be genuine.

  Doubtlessly catching her look of disbelief, Zerik fluffed out his wings. “It would be a pleasure having you both in my home. Ileya, my youngest, has her own nest now with her mate and a new fledgling. I have plenty of space to accommodate you.”

  His brow furrowed further as he spoke, yet he didn’t sound like the idea bothered him to make room for them. No, from their conversations over the last few months, Eliza suspected that the grumpy male was actually lonely. He was not only a widower, but also an empty-nester who must’ve been uncertain about the direction of his life.

  Eliza smiled at the male who frowned gruffly at her. “Thank you, Zerik. That’s really very generous of you.”

  She wanted to grin when she caught the small twitch of his lips before he pressed them together firmly, as he typically did. She’d suspected for some time that the big stern male was really a softy. Oh, he played a good game, looking sour and pissy at everything in life. No doubt life handed him a bad hand and he was making no bones letting all the cosmos know his displeasure.

  But every now and then, she caught a small look of humor, or a warm glance from him that told her it was a façade. A shield against any further pain.

  She knew well about that.

  When she has signed her divorce papers and allowed herself to taste that first sip of freedom, her initial impulse was the desire to make sure she never felt that pain again. Even with therapy, self-doubt and trauma plagued her relentlessly.

  But over the last few days, Eliza had begun to doubt her knee-jerk reaction of self-preservation. She’d begun to dream of a male holding her in the night, gently and fiercely loving her— and then woke up drenched in sweat and slick on her thighs.

  It was no mystery to her what male she was dreaming about.

  Eliza’s eyes darted over to the tall Tagith male beside her. Zerik had become a good friend and comfortable companion. He’d been a rock when her life felt the most turbulent, despite the new freedoms she’d been experiencing. She had still felt cast adrift and he was there for her even when she refused to see it.

  She was still plagued with the idea that she wasn’t attractive enough, wasn’t enough of a woman to be a mate to such a male—or any male, really. It was a feeling she couldn’t entirely shake. After all, he never gave her any tender words to express any sort of overt interest at all. But nor could she shake the constant comfort of Zerik’s presence. He battled back her demons and that warmed her heart that he stood beside her without judgment.

  She certainly wasn’t a spring chicken anymore at the ripe age of fifty-two, but what she’d said to Zerik was true. Being fifty-two didn’t automatically make her undesirable, even as she grappled with her own insecurities. Eliza worked to remind herself that just because Charles had spent years hurting her didn’t mean that the whole cosmos would continue to hurt her.

  Something within her reached hesitantly for the idea that maybe—just maybe—there was someone for her, even as another part of her tried to quash those thoughts with ruthless efficiency.

  Eliza looked around as they disembarked from the starship, her eyes eagerly taking everything in. “So how we are getting to your home?”

  Zerik lifted a brow and smirked. “The way we get around everywhere around here: we will be flying. I hope you do not have a fear of heights.”

  Unceremoniously, he plucked her up into his arms, mirroring Dareth as he swung Mel up into his embrace. Eliza held a breath of trepidation as the males extended their huge wings. She glanced over at Mel, but her daughter looked completely relaxed. But Mel had spent months with Dareth and doubtlessly had gone flying many times with her mate.

  Zerik crouched and then leaped, beating his wings with great thunderous flaps as he lifted them up into the air, Dareth flying at his side. Eliza’s stomach briefly lurched, and she dug her fingers into the male’s strong back as she held on for dear life. She wasn’t exactly afraid of heights. She was, however, terrified of plummeting to her death if his grip slipped.

  “Please, please don’t drop me,” she whispered into his neck, not ashamed to give voice to her fear. It would be all too easy for her to slide out of his arms and drop the miles between her and the ground. Her mind circled around her terror as her body froze. A hand came up and began to stroke her back in small, soothing motions.

  “Do not fear, Eliza. You are safe in my arms. You will always be safe with me,” he said to her in a low, rumbling voice. His feathered ear twitched toward her, as if to check that she was no longer whimpering in panic.

  Eliza took several deep breaths, steadying herself. After many minutes, she slowly started to relax and feel more comfortable with the rolling beats of his wings in-between gliding on warm currents of air. When she was certain that her heart was no longer going to attempt to leap out of her chest, she chanced a look around. Her lips parted in awe as they swooped over fields of gold flowers with brilliant pink leaves.

  Noticing the direction of her attention, Zerik murmured, “Sun-spark flowers. You recall them, yes?”

  “Yes,” Eliza whispered in awe at the massive acreage of blooms. There were rows of other flowers mixed among them. Ruby reds, bright purple, and metallic silver, among others. It looked like a an endless rainbow of jewel tone and metallic flowers stretched out below them. But the sun-sparks were the most glorious among them.

  To Eliza’s mind, it looked like thick bushes drooping with what appeared to be gigantic honeysuckle. If honeysuckle blooms were as big as her hand, had vibrant gold petals, and glowed like a firefly.

  Zerik flapped his wings rapidly and they shot forward, the field below her blurring into a colorful smear as the ground raced by below them. Soon the flower beds returned to the vast grasslands, sprinkled with bright wildflowers and short bushes that appeared to be laden with berries.

  Eliza had no idea how long, or how far, they flew, and Zerik and Dareth never seemed to tire. After a while, Eliza settled more comfortably against Zerik’s chest and her eyes drifted closed, lulled to sleep by the strange and gentle rocking of the male’s body in flight.

  She awoke to the gentle caress of rough fingers and the brush of claws against her face. Groggy, she blinked her eyes and found herself staring into Zerik’s amused face. The harsh, deep lines of his face relaxed as the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly. The amber orange of his eyes shined with good humor.

  “Wake up. We are arriving,” he said, his voice lacking its characteristic bite.

  Eliza turned her head. She must have slept for some time. The strange pinkish sky was now flaming orange, and gold lights rose everywhere. At first, she thought it was fireflies, like those she loved at her grandfather’s farm in those hot Georgia summers, until one of the lights dipped close.

  It wasn’t an insect at all! Instead, it seemed like some sort of strange hummingbird, with four tiny wings and long tufted crests of feathers rising from the sides of its head. Its entire
belly from throat to tail was glowed through sheer crystalline feathers on its belly, contrasting the rich golden feathers of its wings, back, and tail. The tiny bird darted around her, followed by a tiny flock as Zerik climbed higher into the sky.

  She craned her head around and noticed that they were approaching one of those giant sequoia-like trees, its thick branches stretching out for yards in every direction. As they neared, she noticed that each was thick enough that two people could stand side by side comfortably on a single limb.

  Her eyes drifted down the length of the branches and noticed then what was built into the heart of the tree. She was startled to see a house nestled deep in the branches. It almost appeared to be a part of the tree as it seemed to take advantage of the natural curved bowl of where the branches met to form much of the outlying structure.

  It was by no means large or opulent. Rather, it had the appearance of a cozy cottage—in the form of a tree house. From what she could tell, there were many windows that would allow plenty of natural light. Even completely dark in the fading sunset, the house looked warm and inviting. In the distance, she could see lights coming from several other giant trees that most probably held similar houses.

  Zerik flapped his wings in rapid beats, creating a current of wind strong enough to blow her hair out around her wildly, as he set them down on the thick branch in front of the door. Carefully, he set her on her feet and made sure she was steady on the limb. As she was lowered, Eliza saw Dareth touch down on the branch with Mel wrapped tightly around him.

  Her eyebrows lifted at the odd flushed color of the younger male. He was panting slightly but didn’t seem to be tired or overexerted. For that matter, Mel also appeared flushed. She was about to ask if they were okay, when she noted the subtle grind of her daughter’s hips against her mate, which made his color intensify as his wings began to spark. Eliza’s eyes widened and she jerked her head away. Clearly, they were having a private moment.

  Once again facing Zerik, she noted the way his eyes scanned the horizon, before coming to rest on his son. He scowled at the couple, though Eliza was sure she got a glimmer of mirth briefly dance through his eyes.

  “Dareth, if you and your mate are needing, you know where your room is. It is far more suitable place than in front of my door.”

  The younger male grinned and pulled Mel into the house, her face blushing beet red as she giggled. Zerik shook his head and rustled his feathers before settling his wings calmly folded against his back.

  “Youth,” he muttered and swept his hand out, indicating that she should precede him into the house.

  The interior was dim, but not entirely dark thanks to the lingering rays of the sunset illuminating the large windows and skylight. There was just enough light for Eliza to find her way to a large wood-framed couch covered with thick, comfortable cushions.

  Just as she settled down, she nearly jumped to her feet again when Zerik, standing in front of an enormous hearth, flapped his wings forward and sent a lick of flame off the tip of his feathers onto the dry knotted bundles of grass he’d thrown in. The dry grasses quickly caught fire and the room filled with a scent similar to lemongrass.

  Zerik folded his wings and walked into the attached kitchen. There, in similar fashion, he lit a large range stove and then turned to disappear into another room. Several minutes passed, and Eliza considered trailing after him to see if he needed help, when Zerik came back through the door with his arm full of meat, some completely unfamiliar vegetables, and a small bag of what appeared to be some kind of a tuber.

  Eliza wandered into the kitchen, curious but sure to stay out of the way. Even with his wings folded back, the male took up much of the kitchen with his girth.

  “Is there any way I can help you, Zerik?” she asked. She didn’t want him to feel like she would be a burden as a house guest.

  He paused for a moment and then reached into a bin, drawing out a small knife and handing it to her with the bag of tubers.

  “Peel these then,” he said, and silently went back to chopping up a large shank of meat into small, manageable pieces.

  Eliza pulled out one of the tubers and took a long look at it. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it. It looked like a particularly ugly, malformed purple potato. Thankfully, the skin was remarkably soft and the edge of the knife made quick work of peeling it. The inner flesh was a deep royal purple and smelled almost like a yam with a nutty undertone. She set it in the bowl he provided and promptly made her way through the rest of the bag.

  As she placed the last tuber in the bowl, Zerik plucked it up from the counter and rinsed them in a deep water-fed basin before chopping them up and throwing them in a huge round skillet with the meat.

  Fascinated by his culinary aptitude, she watched as he pulled down foreign spices and yellow salt and began to season the food with practiced hand. From a drawer, he took out a bottle of bright yellow oil that smelled faintly of almond and citrus and drizzled it over the cooking food while he stirred it intermittently.

  Not unaware of her rapt attention, he didn’t bother looking up as he begin to speak to her.

  “My Lia loved to cook. She would never even let me into this part of our nest. It was her domain. This was her favorite dish to make for our nest. When she fell ill, it was the first thing I learned to make. To provide her with some comfort,” he said, the lines in his face deepening as he glared down into the skillet.

  Giving a few more stirs with a thick spoon, he turned and began to chop up the multicolored vegetables. The kitchen filled quickly with the raw tang of chopped vegetables and the rich flavors of the cooking food.

  Eliza watched in silence, uncertain if any response would truly be welcome. It didn’t take long for her resolve to crumble under the heavy weight of the silence, interrupted only by the sharp sizzle coming from the skillet.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she murmured.

  His hand paused mid-stroke and he finally looked up at her, his lips pinched together. “No one should have to outlive their mate. As long as they were a good and deserving mate.”

  There was something about the way he spoke that gave her pause, something that resonated within her from a conversation she’d had herself not too long ago. “Do you doubt that you were?”

  His fiery eyes drifted back down to the skillet, his expression hard and unreadable. At first, Eliza didn’t think he was going to reply. She felt a sharp pang of guilt for even bringing it up and searched her mind for another topic of discussion—one less painful—when he finally answered.

  “Sometimes,” he said. He raised his eyes and for a moment he allowed her to see the great depth of the anger and sorrow burning within him. He set the spoon down and rested his weight on both hands against the counter beside the range as he looked down at her. “Over the years, I have wondered what great wrong I did. What I did that so offended the gods that they took her away from me and left me to live the rest of my life alone. We bred and raised three fledglings together. We were meant to age and die together. Yet her years were stolen from her. She was stolen from me. What is that if not punishment?”

  He reached up into another cupboard and brought down four bowls and set them beside the range. “The priests are no comfort, either.”

  Eliza paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know what it’s like to feel the pain of losing a mate. But I do know pain, and blaming yourself for it. It’s something I still struggle with myself.” She licked her lips. “Maybe we just feel the need to find something to blame, and it’s easier to blame ourselves when we hurt.”

  Tentatively she stretched out a hand, grazing her fingertips across the back of his hand in a gesture of solidarity and comfort. “It’s taken me years to even face that maybe it wasn’t my fault. It doesn’t make the pain go away, and sometimes I do find that feeling return until I force myself to face it again, but it helps me deal with it and my anger.

  “I’m mad every day—at myself, at the gods, and at the man
I married. It takes a lot for me to face that and not punish myself for it. I can’t change what happened… but being angry over the pain doesn’t change it. And it’s not my fault either. I think I finally recognize and accept that.”

  Eliza paused. Zerik wasn’t looking at her again and seemed to be stewing his own thoughts, the twitch of his feathered ears the only sign that he was listening to her. She bit her lip; she didn’t want to upset the male by overstepping her boundaries.

  “It’s not your fault that she died, Zerik. If the gods punished people for being a bad mate, my husband would have been struck down long before Mel had ever been born. Is it fair though? No, it’s not. I’m sorry that your lost your mate to illness. I wish everyone had a mate as devoted and caring as you. A lot of women would be a lot better off. I’m sure Lia knew how lucky she was.”

  He drew in a deep breath, paused, and then his lips quirked up at the corners as he raised his eyes once more. “She always did say so,” he agreed.

  He turned his hand over under hers and grasped her hand gently, his amber eyes filled with warmth. “Thank you, Eliza.” He rubbed his rough thumb across the top of her hand, making an odd warmth skitter over her skin and down into her belly. “Charles is a menace who should have been stripped of his life long ago for daring to harm you.”

  She smiled. “At least some good came out of it. I have Mel and my other two children. They’re all grown, and my youngest is married with a family of her own. I can’t regret it. And now I’m free of Charles and try to learn how to move on.”

  He fell silent for a long moment, as if giving her words consideration. Finally, he slowly said, “After all this time feeling pain and being alone, maybe I also need to learn how to move on and release myself from it.”

  Chapter 6

  Zerik held the small hand in his, marveling at its softness. His heart sped slightly within his breast. He’d felt the slightest stirrings of interest on the space station, which only increased within the close quarters of the flight to Tagess. But from the moment he had touched her and had her beneath his wings, his body reacted with painfully enthusiastic acclamation.