42. Chapter 42
42
On the fourth day my spine adapted to being jarred for hours on end. Energy flooded through me in a way I hadn’t felt for days. We took a break for lunch. Even through the clouds, the heat was unbearable. It would be a brief rest before we continued into the night to beat some of the heat.
This was the way of the wildlands, Jameson and his pack insisted.
I was coming back from relieving myself when I saw Jameson and Birdie ensconced behind the cart. Jameson leaned in close, too close, and his low whispers tapered off as I approached. Birdie stepped back, a movement which made Jameson’s smile drop.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked, taking Birdie by her elbow and dragging her away from the alluring alpha.
I crawled up into the cart, where Oliver built an almost nest, with pillows and soft materials as well as a tarp sprung over the top between the two trees. They promised me a soft, dark nest when we settled and my fingers itched for it. Ruck and Oliver were already asleep and Hale cracked an eye open as the cart rocked with movement. I blew him a kiss, which he caught and pressed to his chest.
“Well?” I ushered Birdie into the comfortable spot. Escaping the heat was impossible, but the tarp caught most of the unrelenting rays. “Is something going on between you and Jameson? You understand he has a pack.”
“And?” Birdie blinked her owlish eyes at me and shrugged.
“You’ve never shown any interest in any man, let alone more than one. Not to mention how different it is to the beliefs we were raised with.”
“I see you have adjusted fine,” Birdie’s lips twitched. “Besides, you forget how odd I am. With passions outside of those reserved for our gender. Don’t tell me you disapprove?”
My sister picked at her nails, gaze trained on the nervous movement. Birdie’s life was uprooted because of me, and she thought I was going to judge her for entertaining something with a man?
“Of course not.” I lay my hand over her fidgeting fingers. “This is an adventure for both of us, but I know I breathe better in the wildlands than I ever did in Breton City.”
“I prefer the city if I’m honest. I miss my tools. The smells and sounds are all familiar.”
My stomach dropped, and I plastered my thigh against Birdie’s. Like somehow, the heat of my body could be the shield against the sprawling wildlands and her fear. It didn’t surprise me to hear she didn’t miss our father or any other person. Birdie was a singular, spectacular woman and there were few who could love her as she was. I hoped she could come to love the wild like I now did.
“But I like the challenge of this place. I prefer my routine and structure. But I am willing to go explore, that's why I agreed to stay.”
Relief choked my throat, and I couldn’t speak. My arms corded around her neck, and I drew her to me. Her ink and parchment scent was thick and lush, and I drank it like I was luxuriating in a library filled with tomes of old books.
“I’m glad.”
Birdie patted my head, awkwardly accepting the affection.
“Jameson was only telling me about his omega. He has a plant he wants to show me. When its leaves are combined with water, it creates a sudsy soap. He thought it useful for my tea experiment?”
“Make sure you bring some back if you find some.” My laugh was muffled into Birdie’s neck.
My guilt about her life being uprooted melted away.