The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

long had it been since
anyone had spoken it. But I remember the sound of his voice so clearly when he
told me. There was freedom in it, as if I’d asked him instead to come outside
of the cave and walk with me in the sun.
                He chews
on the leaves now, still smiling at me. I set the bowl aside. After a minute, I
take his hand. His gaze drifts downward, and then his fingers tighten.
                “I don’t
think they are going to repair the gates anytime soon,” I say.
                He stops
chewing, eyes flicking toward the bamboo and back to me.
                “Why not?”
                I shrug,
uncertain of how much I should share. “The Council… they have a plan. It will
just take some time to work it out.”    
                He thinks
a moment, and then nods with a shrug as if I’ve said the most practical thing he’s
ever heard. The gesture brings up an unwanted sadness in me, and I’m startled
by this. I should be relieved that he seems uninterested in taking advantage of
this situation. Instead, it bothers me that he’s so content, and I wonder: If I
asked—if I caused him to consider what the open gate truly means—what would he say?
Does he have some hidden desire to be free that he has never divulged because
there was no point in it? I study him, and then I ask it.
                “Would
you leave, Chad ?”
I gesture toward the entrance. “The gate is open; freedom is just past it.
Would you go?”
                He swings
his eyes toward the gate again, chewing on the inside of his cheek a moment,
and then he swivels his head back toward me.
                “No, I
wouldn’t.”
                  “But… have you ever thought about it?” I prod
him. “About getting out? Seeing what’s on the other side of that gate?”
                His brow
pinches, just the tiniest of motions, as he thinks. And I wait, half-afraid of
what he might say.
                “I—I
don’t know what I want.” His voice carries a hint of uncertainty, as if he’s
afraid to say it aloud. “I’ve never been allowed to know.”
                His eyes
pierce me as they do each time he looks at me—innocent and blunt and so very honest,
searching me out. Like always, they touch a spot deep inside me that flutters
quite perceptibly. His eyes remain steady, but I doubt he realizes what this
one look does to me. His hand in mine has grown sweaty, and I pull away, wiping
the wetness onto my skirt.
                I’m
reminded of the many conversations we’ve had since I decided to allow
conversing. I learned very quickly that, besides food and exercise, I am the
one diversion that he looks forward to. A break in the mundane loneliness that
accompanies the life of the stock. Each time I appear on the other side of those
bars, he greets me with a crooked smile that causes one of his sandy brows to rise
slightly higher than the other.
                “Mia?” My
name on his tongue pulls me out of my memories, and I shake them away and look
at him. “I would never leave you.”
                Surprised,
I tilt my head, a familiar fluttering pulsating in my stomach—one that happens
often these days, and against my will. The sensation scares me because it
thrills me, and this is wrong. These kinds of feelings between a breeder and
her mate are dangerous.
                “This is
my place,” Chad continues, and his voice pulls my eyes toward his. He dips his head slightly. “It’s
my duty.”
                The
fluttering eases, setting things back into perspective. His duty. Of course. I
take him in. His eyes rest on me fervently, waiting for my response. And they
remind me of how much control I have over his every thought—his every move.
Yes, Chad knows
his place. He knows that a breeder’s will must be