Chapter 8 Ragnar
RAGNAR
Several feelings were surfacing in my mind at once as I cooked the skirt steak strips and the pasta that would be our Christmas dinner.
It wasn't ham or all the fixings, but it was one of my best meals.
I checked on Ryan and saw he was fast asleep, and I felt a moment of guilt for literally riding him so hard.
Then I remembered he had been a more than willing participant and let that one feeling go.
I had more than enough feelings to work through without guilt, especially since having an amazing mate was one of them.
Looking at the time, I realized it was almost noon. I picked up my phone and, making sure I had a good signal, called my mom. She took a few rings to answer, but she finally picked up with her usual happy enthusiasm.
“Dearest, I’m so glad you called. You’ve been on my mind the last few days. How is the weather up there? Are you snowed in, or did most of the snow miss you?”
“Good morning, Mom, and Merry Christmas. The snow has blanketed the mountain, but I’m fine. I have enough supplies for a few weeks, and I was planning to stay up here and work anyway. But other than that, I have some news.”
She glossed right over what I’d said. “Oh, darling, please be careful and stay warm. Do you have power? Do you need to fly down?” Smiling to myself, I tried again to tell her my news.
“Mom, I told you I’m fine, but there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Dearest, don’t downplay this. You know how I worry about you up there on that mountain, alone.
Anything could happen. You could be hurt, and no one would know for weeks.
No one could get to you if you were hurt.
For heaven’s sake, why did you decide to stay in the wilderness for the holidays?
I understand your reasons, but I know that if you gave yourself a chance, you could learn to be happy again, love.
” She was working herself into a tizzy. If I let her keep going, she’d be chartering a flight to rescue me herself.
“Mother!” I knew she hated being called that, so it was guaranteed to get through to her.
“Ragnar Christian Scott, you know I hate it when you call me that.”
“I know, Mom, but I need you to focus. I have some news.”
“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so, dearest? What is it?”
“I’m not alone up here on the mountain, Mom. I met my mate.”
“Ohhh, ohhh, really and truly? Ohhh, I have to tell everyone. They'll all be here in a few hours. We need to set up a call so you can introduce your mate to everyone. Who is it? Do we know them?”
“Mom, calm down. We're not doing intros yet. We just met. I'll tell everyone when I'm ready, but don't make a big deal about it, okay? Promise me.”
She griped about my restrictions but eventually agreed. “Oh, all right. I'll agree, but you'd better not drag this out. We've all been worried about you, so you'd better let everyone know sooner rather than later.”
“I promise, Mom. And to show you how much I love you, I'll even tell you his name first. His name is Ryan Winthorpe. He's some kind of writer, I think.”
The dead air on the phone made me pull it away from my face to check the signal. When I put it back to my ear, all I heard was screaming.
“Richard, Richard, get in here! You won't believe the news! Our new son-in-law is Ryan freaking Winthorpe!”
“Mom, what the hell? We had a deal.”
“That was before you told me your new mate is a world-famous thriller writer with a TV series on Netflix next year.”
“Wait, what?”
“You didn’t know? Your father has been a Winthorpe fan since he read his debut novel a few years ago. He’s brilliant.”
“I mean, he is pretty special, but I didn’t know much about his career, just that he’s a writer.”
“Well, he’s a fantastic artist, and you’re fortunate to have met him.
I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. I need to run to get ready for dinner, but keep us in the loop about your plans.
I read that Ryan has a house somewhere in Tennessee or Georgia or somewhere down there.
Will you be moving down there now that you’ve sold your house? ”
“Umm, I’m not sure. We haven’t talked about it yet, but I wouldn’t mind moving back down there.”
“Okay, let me know. Love you and Merry Christmas to you both.”
“Merry Christmas, Mom.”
As I pushed the button to end the call, I noticed Ryan had walked into the kitchen and sat down across the island in one of the barstools. He looked more serious than I’d seen him yet.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard a little of your conversation. I meant to tell you about my job and everything, but I was so sick, and then, well, you know, the heat hit. I didn’t keep it a secret.”
I quickly walked around the island, gently kissed the worry lines on his brow, then kissed him deeply, ending with a tight hug.
“Of course, I know you didn’t keep it a secret on purpose.
Nothing about the meeting or the mating has been usual.
I mean, the fact that we even met was a miracle.
How did you even end up in the wrong cabin in the first place? ”
He pulled back from me to look me in the eyes.
“What do you mean, your cabin? This is my cabin. I figured you got the wrong cabin in the storm or something. Come to think of it, I was so sick I never even questioned why you were here. I swear, sometimes I have the survival instinct of a goldfish in the desert.” He laughed, but I could tell an explanation was needed.
“I rent this cabin every year for a few weeks at a time for my work. I’m an animal behaviorist, and I’ve been studying the raven population in the preserve that backs up to this mountain.
The dynamic between the ravens and the wolf packs has been the subject of my latest behavioral science paper.
I study the symbiotic relationship between ravens and wolves in the area around this cabin.
I’ve made friends with the raven flock here, and this time I’ve finally experienced them directly communicating with me. So, you see, this is my cabin.”
“But it’s cabin number one hundred eleven, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, I have my receipt from the lodge somewhere. They told me I was in number one hundred eleven, too.”
We looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
“They double-booked us! No wonder that guy who checked me in was sweating. I thought maybe he was getting sick like I was, but now it makes sense. He knew we’d be in the same cabin, and he was worried we’d call and complain.”
“Son of a bitch, you’re right. That new guy, Branson, was nervous when he handed me my key, too. He knew all along, the sneaky weasel.”
Ryan slipped off the barstool and slid his arms around my neck. “It did work out in the end, though, didn’t it? I mean, I’m not complaining, am I?” He kissed me hard on the mouth, then dropped kisses to my chin, my jaw, and my earlobe.
“Careful, there, mate. You might be more famous than I am, but I can make you moan on demand.”
He sucked my lobe into his mouth, then gently bit down while whispering, “Don’t hear me complaining, do you, bird boy?” He nibbled lower, still talking. “I want to see you shift sometime soon. I want to see you in your feathers and watch you fly.”
“No time like the present. Let me turn off the pasta, and let’s step outside.”
After I made sure the stove was off, I gathered his boots and coat, and then we walked onto the porch. Without fanfare, I stripped and let the shift take me, then flapped my wings and took off into the yard. I did a few quick circles around the house before settling back onto the porch railing.
Ryan walked toward me carefully, as if I were a wild bird he didn’t want to spook. I tried to reassure him, so I let my raven speak in my own voice, “It’s me, Ryan.”
He was startled by my voice coming from a large black bird’s throat, but then he smiled and came forward, gently petting my feathers along my back and tail. He kept stroking my whole length over and over again while he talked to me.
“You’re beautiful, Ragnar. Truly breathtaking.
When I was young, I always wished I’d be able to shift one day, but I knew it might never happen.
You see, my mom was only a quarter shifter, the rest human.
She could shift, but with difficulty. No one talked about it at the time, but it was the reason she died.
She was a mouse shifter, just a little dormouse, but she was so proud she could shift.
One day, she shifted outside and couldn't shift back. She tried and tried, but it just wouldn’t happen.
She was in the middle of the yard when an owl swooped down and picked her up.
She managed to shift just as the owl started to fly off with her mouse form.
She fell to the ground and hit her head.
They said she never felt any pain. My step-dad had been mortified that she’d died while shifted into a mouse of all things, so he’d covered it all up and said she’d been drunk and had fallen off a ladder. Bastard.”
He was still stroking me when I let my shift reverse, and his hand settled on my lower back as I pulled him in for a firm hug.
“Your mother was a good mom, and that’s all that matters.
I’m sorry the rest of your family sucked, but you’ll have a whole new family now.
I have siblings, and my mom and dad are awesome, if not slightly neurotic, but in the best way, I promise.
” He hugged me tighter, and I kissed his cheek before nuzzling into his neck.
“That sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them all, but maybe we can wait until we’ve had some time together?”
I continued kissing his neck, then licked up to his ear, nibbling his earlobe like he’d done to me earlier. “I agree. I think we need some time just for us. You want to know a fun fact about birds?”
Ryan’s breathing had quickened, and he practically panted his answer. “Um, sure, what is it?”
Nibbling his other ear and neck, I kept talking. “You have to be careful when you pet a bird. You should keep your pets only on the head and throat area.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
My hands had begun roaming during our conversation, and while I was already stark naked, he was still dressed. I backed him up to the door, and we stumbled back into the house, where I pushed him toward the sofa while removing every stitch of clothing that kept me from touching his skin.
“When you stroke a bird’s back, wings, and tail, you engage their hormones, which boosts their need to mate.
” As I watched my mate strip and then lie back on the sofa in a decidedly filthy pose, I stroked my thick cock.
“So you riled me up out there. You cock-teased my raven, and you owe me and him. So what are you going to do to make it up to us?”
The impish grin on his face should have told me he was about to run, but I welcomed the chase. As he ran toward the bedroom, I laughed and ran after him. “Don’t you dare run from me, little mouse. We eat mice like you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Ryan jumped onto the bed, bounced once, then flipped onto his back in a spread-eagle position, his cock in one hand and the other hand behind his head, perfectly relaxed and unbothered.
“Golly, Mr. Raven, if you’re hungry, come eat your little mouse. I promise I’ll fill your belly, and then you can fill mine.” His grin was dirty and perfect, and I did eat my fill before filling him up several more times for good measure.