Chapter 14 The Indignities of Feathers #2
With the rain, the temperature dropped. Previously, they had been comfortable without shirts, but now a chill ran up Ridan’s skin as he finished getting ready for the night.
While Brune made sure the feather was snugly tied inside a pack, Ridan started a fire.
The trees above were not the best weather break, but it kept most of the water off them.
Sputtering, the flames struggled to ignite.
Rain hissed and spit as it landed on the fledgling fire.
Peppercorn glared at Ridan balefully. Possibly the only creature who hated to be cold and wet more than Ridan. Her ears were pinned to her head as she snuggled against Boulder at the base of a thick tree. Snorting whenever water dripped onto her nose. Her tail swishing with displeasure.
Once the fire flickered to life, Ridan dragged his cloak over his shoulders while he picked at the fruit Brune had given him.
He wanted to eat it. Not just because he was hungry, and the sweet fruit would cleanse his mouth of dust from the road, but because Brune gave it to him.
His omega scratched at the back of his head, demanding he accept the gift from the alpha.
He rubbed his thumb across its taut skin and snorted. That was ridiculous. It was a piece of fruit, not a courting gift! Digging his thumbnail into the skin, he began peeling it, tossing the rind into the fire.
Brune joined him beside the fire. Osmond lent him his cloak. They ate in silence, exchanging bits of fruits and jerky.
By the time night fell, the rain had lessened. Ridan spread out his bedroll by the fire and curled up under his damp cloak. Brune was beside him, arms folded under his head. Even with the wet, he didn’t seem nearly as cold as Ridan was.
He couldn’t help but remember how, just an hour prior, he was straddling the man. He could still feel the warm strength radiating off the big alpha. How he didn’t seem to mind Ridan’s fingers digging into his wrists or his teeth so close to his neck.
Shivering, Ridan dragged his cloak up to his nose. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but they kept popping open. They found shapes in the shadowy treetops above him. One branch looked like a bat wing. Another like a rake. He tried to find as many shapes as he could to keep his mind off the cold.
“Hey Ridan,” Brune called from his own bedroll. “I’m cold. Could you come a little closer?” he was smiling sheepishly, one edge of his thick cloak lifted in invitation. Brune had a rosy flush to his cheeks—there was no way he was truly cold.
But Ridan was.
Grumbling, he pushed his bedroll closer and slid under Brune’s cloak. Instantly, he felt the bigger man’s heat. The warmth wrapped around him like his nest at home. He sunk into it, closing his eyes and breathing in Brune’s rocky scent. It soothed the discourse in his mind. His mind began to drift.
Nose nearly pressed to Brune’s shoulder, he let the dark of the night hide his embarrassment as the scent soothed him just as much as the heat. Except for the gentle drip drip drip of rain on the leaves above, he could almost pretend he was back home in his nest.
His traitorous omega brain wondered what it would be like to have Brune in his nest. That sunny rock scent mixed in with his pack, brushing against his nose like the soft furs tickled his skin.
No matter where he turned, he could bask in it, let it soak into his skin so he would never be without it.
It wasn’t a new thought. His mind had conjured the idea of an alpha in his nest before—but that had been pure fantasy.
This was different. Ridan could have it.
He could close the small distance between them, lay his head on Brune’s wide chest. He would let him.
Ridan knew he would. Brune would let a strong arm fall from under his head, drape it casually across his back, and hold him close.
Because that’s what Brune did. He held him, supported him without making Ridan feel like he was less. Like he was weaker for needing it. Brune gave him warmth without making Ridan feel cold. He pulled fruit from trees without making Ridan feel small.
For the first time in Ridan’s life, he looked to the future and didn’t just see himself. He saw Brune there beside him. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that any other future wouldn’t be worth fighting for.
Because animals could adapt, couldn’t they? Snakes could learn to move without legs. Could Ridan be someone who has love in his heart for both Brune and his clan? Could he be strong enough? Worthy enough?
He didn’t find the answers before he drifted off. But just before he fell into the void of sleep, he could have sworn he heard purring.
The days following the storm were bright and cool. Brune enjoyed the journey far more than Ridan, who mumbled about the idiocy of following a feather every time the conversation died down.
He liked seeing more of the land, animals, and plant life he previously could only imagine. He liked the way the sun felt on his shoulders as they rode along the endless flat plains.
And he really, really liked spending time with Ridan.
Back at the clan, Ridan had so many responsibilities.
There was always some kind of weight pulling on his shoulders, someone demanding his attention, or a pressing matter about crops and trade that kept half his attention.
But out here he was unburdened. Despite the mess back at the clan, and the indignity of following a sentient feather, he seemed lighter.
Maybe that was why he was purring so much.
Brune thought the whole thing was a dream. One moment he was teasing Ridan—purely for the joy of seeing that cute little pout—and the next he had the omega stretched along him, purring and pumping out so much of his spicy sweet scent that Brune felt lightheaded.
He’d never heard an omega purr before, but he suddenly understood why some of the alphas in his battalion waxed poetic about it.
It spoke to him on a deeper, instinctual level.
His inner alpha preening, chest puffed up.
He had never felt something so right. It was even better than eating Sehleh’s cooking.
Then he got to spend the night cuddling him.
Brune was so excited he didn’t think he could fall asleep until Ridan started purring again.
Then it was like a fresh wave of pleasured torture.
He didn’t want to move—to disturb the peaceful omega.
But his dick was so hard it was lifting the cloak off him.
And as much as he would love to touch himself for relief, he didn’t want to make Ridan uncomfortable.
Or get stabbed. It was always a risk with the fiery blonde.
While he knew he was inordinately interested in Ridan, Brune could no longer pretend it was just respect and admiration.
Those feelings were there, but they paled in comparison to the others that had grown in their shadow.
It was as if his initial desire to be there for Ridan was the fertile soil for a garden he didn’t know he was planting.
Suddenly he woke up and there were so many flowers he didn’t know what to do with them.
Not that he minded, he could spend a lifetime caring for them. Discovering each colorful petal and carefully pruning the leaves. If only Ridan would allow him to.
He’d resolved himself to spending his life becoming stronger, standing at Ridan’s back. If it’s what he could get, he would take it.
But it was times like this, when Ridan’s hair glowed under the sun and his shrewd eyes sparkled in an endless expanse of freedom, that it was difficult to fathom keeping his distance.
Besides being free to explore more of his feelings for Ridan, it had been an uneventful trip until they were leading the horses through a field of boulders.
A warbling screech cut through the air. Ridan paused, head swiveling until he caught sight of something.
Grabbing Brune, he pulled them down to their knees.
He was going to ask what was going on when he saw Ridan’s face. His eyes were wide, shoulders tense and hands trembling. Slowly, he moved between two boulders, peering up over the rounded edge of the smaller one. After a moment, he gestured for Brune to join him.
At the far edge of the field, the biggest bird Brune had ever seen was picking through the rubble.
Really, it was unfair to call the creature a bird at all.
The size of two grown men, its feathers were a burnished burgundy color.
Eerily familiar, they shone in iridescent ripples as the great animal clawed at the ground.
Its feathers plumed up over its head in a savage crown.
A wicked beak bigger than Brune’s hand curved into a sharp point.
A far cry from the small sparrows Brune had been so enamored with.
“That’s a Tetratorn,” Ridan breathed, his words barely above a whisper.
Restrina’s earrings. Brune could never forget the massive feathers that dangled over the former chief’s shoulders. Ridan told him Restrina had killed an adult Tetratorn to earn them.
The beast heard something, stopping its searching as it lifted its head, cocking it to the side to listen.
After a moment, it unfurled its wings with a crisp snap, taking two steps before the wind caught the massive wings.
As it flapped, Brune noticed the feathers on the edges of its wings were closer together, slimmer, razor sharp.
They cut through the air like they would flesh, soaring up and away from them.
Ridan sat back; his lips curled in an astonished grin. “They’re incredibly rare,” he said. “They normally stay high up in the mountains, only coming down to catch smaller prey for their hatchlings.”
“It was massive!” Brune was still staring at it, watching as the bird turned into a small dot.
Ridan huffed, standing up and patting Brune on the shoulder. “That was a juvenile.”
Brune shivered. He preferred deer.