Brovish
CHAPTER TEN
My pen stopped mid-word every time I remembered Laina’s smile after we’d pulled apart.
The kiss felt unfinished, and I caught myself listening for her footsteps in the hall all afternoon.
Twice I nearly walked to her office without a reason.
Twice I stopped myself, unsure what surface protocol demanded after kissing your colleague beside a pregnant snugglethorn.
Where I come from, intentions would be clear. Gifts would be exchanged and families consulted. Here, I had no guidance to follow, only the warmth where her hands had touched my shoulders.
“I need to head out early today,” Laina said from my open doorway late in the afternoon.
“I have some paperwork I need to take care of related to the clinic. The sale closes in two weeks. I hope that’s alright.
There’s nothing here needing my attention, though you can call me if you run into trouble. ”
I looked up from my desk. “Of course.”
Sofia peeped from her shoulder, her wings fluttering.
“You two should have time together,” Laina said, reaching up to stroke Sofia’s spine. “She’s missed you.”
Sofia made a disgruntled noise but didn’t resist when Laina gently transferred her to my outstretched hand. The emberkit scrambled up my arm and settled against my neck.
I walked Laina to her truck, Sofia chittering in my ear.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” she said, climbing up into the driver’s seat.
“Monday.”
She smiled, and I realized how much I wanted to kiss her again.
My fingers flexed at my sides, and I held back the urge to lift her from the driver’s seat and bring her mouth back to mine. It was too soon and too public.
Bertha’s engine roared to life, and I stepped back as Laina drove away. I lifted one hand in goodbye, and she waved back before disappearing around the curve in the road.
Sofia chirped on my shoulder.
“Yes,” I told her. “I like her too.”
I opted to do the evening rounds a little early.
I walked the perimeter fences, checked each enclosure, and made my notes.
The mossnibbles had added someone’s hat to their nest. Gerald was asleep in his usual corner, near the fence.
Cooper’s wing was healing well. We’d moved him to a larger enclosure outside, and Laina thought we’d be able to release him back into the wild again soon.
I reached Abagail’s enclosure last.
The rear gate stood open and her pen was empty.
My stomach dropped.
“Abagail?” I called out, stepping inside the pen.
I swept the entire enclosure, checking every corner and shadow. I even looked underneath the small shelter we’d built, though there was no way she could fit there.
She was gone.
Panic clawed up my throat. We’d just discovered her pregnancy this morning. This was the first creature Laina and I had truly shared responsibility for, the first one that was ours and not just mine or hers.
And I’d lost her.
Pregnant snugglethorns nested in hidden, secure places when they were close to delivering. They sought darkness and seclusion. The woods beyond the perimeter fence offered all three.
If Abagail went into labor alone out there, without monitoring, anything could happen.
I ran along the fence line, calling her name, looking for any sign of where she might’ve broken through. The fence was intact, which meant she could’ve slipped out through the gate if someone hadn’t latched it properly.
Sofia launched from my shoulder, flying in tight circles above my head, peeping.
I searched for an hour, moving outward from the enclosure in widening circles, finding nothing but trampled undergrowth and a few tufts of blue wool caught on tree branches. No true trail I could follow.
The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. It would be dark soon, and a pregnant snugglethorn alone in unfamiliar territory was vulnerable to fear, predators, and all sorts of complications.
I pulled out my phone, my fingers clumsy with urgency.
I need you to come back, I texted Laina. It’s Abagail. She’s gone.
Her reply came through quickly. On my way.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and headed inside.