Chapter 34
Ani
When Ree comes, my mind shorts out in a combination of guilt and anger. The warm way she greeted Szhe’ka and his concern over her gave me a serious case of the greens and I don’t like it.
Whatever new “feathers” I am growing inside, I will not be the jealous type. I am, however, the type that likes to stake a claim on what I want and sink my teeth into it until the end.
And he is mine. She can’t have him.
But the appearance of another alien eases that fear. She clearly has his traits, so, coupled with the awkward conversation with Kira, I suspect what is going on between the two of them.
“Welcome to our island. It doesn’t look like much, but, please, make yourselves comfortable,” Ree says, stretching her hands out. “We have you in an isolated area just in case you haven’t… well…”
“They haven’t fucked,” Kira says, voice amused now, a stark contrast to her earlier tone, which made it clear that if I made myself Ree’s enemy, she would skewer me.
The Bitch doesn’t seem to care and she’s about to lob insults when Szhe’ka’s singing breaks in, low and sweet.
“New feathers,” he croons.
I huff, then take a deep breath, searching for a polite way to respond instead.
My mind is still galloping through insults—and how they aren’t helpful—when I hear heavy footfalls. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and every instinct screams for me to run.
“Lizard Brain,” Kira says, voice suddenly taunting now.
When I see who she’s taunting my mouth drops open. The woman is insane.
“This is Drasuk,” Ree says with a laugh. “Meet Ani, Szhe’ka, and what is his name?”
“Azoeul,” I mutter, eyes still glued to the blue dragon.
Azoeul’s glance is pulled to me at the sound of his name, but then he is back to darting his eyes around. I’ve been rude, not translating for him.
I open my mouth to start, but Drasuk moves closer.
“Give her room, you big idiot,” barks Kira. “They haven’t fucked yet.”
“Must you insist on telling everyone?” I grumble.
“Don’t encourage her or she will,” rumbles the dragon.
The air shifts when Drasuk moves. Heavy steps deliberate, like the ground belongs to him and he’s reminding it.
Kira huffs and plops down on a flat stretch of rock near the treeline. She reaches behind her, scratching, then glares over her shoulder at her back.
“You still have those proto-wings?” Drasuk asks, voice dripping with disdain.
She twists, trying to look at them. “If you even think about touching them—”
“I am thinking about biting them off,” he replies.
She jerks upright so fast she knocks into him with her bone crown. “You are absolutely not.”
Drasuk doesn’t flinch. He towers over her, mouth slightly ajar, eyes fixed on the protrusions like they’re a personal insult.
“They are a weakness,” he says flatly. “No warrior should have wings.”
“Oh my God,” she snaps. “You prehistoric control freak, they are attached to me.”
“They compromise your balance.”
“They let me fly.”
“You do not fly well,” he taunts.
She shakes in fury.
It’s a disturbing sight. Him built like a siege weapon, her lean and bright and furious, but she doesn’t hesitate. She steps directly into his space, jabbing a finger into his big chest.
“I just saved Bird-Guy and his girlfriend with these ‘compromised balance’ accessories.”
“I hear you were unstable,” he argues.
“Fuck no,” she seethes. “I was exquisitely dramatic.”
“You were inefficient,” Drasuk lobs back.
“I was airborne, you idiot,” she says through gritted teeth. “You’re just jealous because your giant ass can’t get off the ground.”
He leans down slightly, examining the base of one wing with clinical focus. “If removed early, regeneration may correct the mutation.”
She recoils, hands flying protectively over her back. “Stop volunteering to mutilate me!”
“It would be quick.”
“I do not care how quick your unauthorized wing-amputation fantasy is!” she barks.
He straightens. “You are a fighter. Fighters do not need proto-wings.”
She laughs, sharp and disbelieving. “Says who? The Anti-Air Force?”
“Combat is grounded,” Drasuk rumbles back. “Direct. Wings imply retreat.”
“Or advantage,” she shoots back. “Height. Mobility. Surprise. Ever heard of it?”
His jaw tightens. “Predators strike from solid footing.”
“Predators also dive from the sky,” she counters. “Have you never seen a bird?”
“I do not model myself after prey animals.”
She makes a strangled sound of outrage. “You did not just call my wings prey-coded.”
“They are ornamental at best.”
“They are tactical at best,” she fires back. “And fabulous.”
He reaches toward one experimentally. She punches his limb away. Hard.
“If you bite me,” she warns, voice dropping into something dangerous, “I will personally test whether drakonid balls grow back.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “That is a threat.”
“Yes.”
I’m slowly backing away as they keep arguing.
Then, grudgingly Drasuk adds: “If they tear mid-combat, I will not carry you.”
She smirks. “If they tear mid-combat, I’ll glide down on your ego. It’s big enough.”
They posture for several long seconds. He turns away first.
Kira waits until he’s several steps off before muttering loudly, “Try to bite my wings again and I’m painting them neon.”
His voice carries back, dry and unamused. “That would make them easier to target.”
She cups her hands around her mouth. “Good! Then they’ll know exactly who’s killing them!”
Silence stretches for a long moment before I find my voice. “Holy shit, Kira. You weren’t kidding when you said you could make enemies here.”
When she turns to me, she has the crazed grin back on her face. “That idiot? Oh, no, he’s my mate and I’d kill anyone who even looked at him wrong.”
I’m still working toward a reply when Ree interjects. “We’ve left Azoeul out of the conversation long enough. Kira, take him to Liv so she can explain the nanite situation and help him make an informed decision. They were admiring the hoard last I saw them.”
Kira snorts. “Of course they were.”
Then she switches to Azoeul’s language. “Come along, Fur Ball. I have someone you should meet.”
Azoeul shares a long look with Szhe’ka before replying. “I will stay with my friends.”
“They aren’t going to want you around for where this is headed, Furby Dude,” Kira tells him. “Trust me.”
She stops suddenly. “Wait, did I read this wrong? Is it a three-way sort of situation?”
I clear my throat. “No. No it isn’t.”
“We will be well, Azoeul,” Szhe’ka tells him. “I think they plan to offer you something you will need.”
With a long breath, Azoeul relents and moves off with Kira.