Chapter Twenty-Two
Ebenezer
I’m pacing our kitchen as I await my bonded.
Not a stones’ damn sign of our bride to the west. Nothing.
I flew low and slow, as I’m not a skilled tracker like Theo. But I’m sure of it. The forest in that direction was undisturbed.
When I reached the small human homestead that is our closest neighbor, I turned back. I had considered landing and asking them about a human woman, but decided the risk was too great.
Besides, she couldn’t have gotten that far.
Theo lands on the balcony heavily. As he folds his wings in, he meets my eyes. We both see what we needed to know: Neither of us has found her trail. Fuck.
Theo crosses the room and pulls me into his arms without a word. I lay my head on his shoulder, lost.
“Not your fault, Ben. Shit, not even her fault, poor thing,” Theo murmurs.
I snap upright. “What do you mean, ‘not her fault’? Of course it is! She’s the one who refused to settle into her new life!”
Theo’s eyes search mine for a moment before he opens his mouth. Whatever he’s about to say is lost though, as Arch lands and strides in.
“Nothing south. So where is she?” Arch’s voice is measured, but I know he’s still upset. Insulted. Hurt. Struggling against his instincts as he has seeded her and considers her ours. Our omega, if you will, despite her being a human.
Theo answers, voice measured and trained, in full Ranger mode, “Tricksy bitch must have went east. Let’s grab a drink and some food and head out together.”
NO TRACKS TO BE FOUND around the lake.
We land on the far side, just past the swampy edge.
“Remind me,” Arch starts, looking at me, “What you know of her parents.”
Theo is lightly stalking, stopping to squat and look at things, trying to find her path.
“Rebels, her file said. Killed in the battle of Kirkshire. She would have been a teen,” I answer.
“Who finished raising her?” Arch asks, watching Theo.
“No notes on that in her file. I assume she was old enough to be left to her own devices.”
Arch’s face is barely hiding his rage.
An unexpected flare of anger rises. I told him she was a bad choice. And I told him even before that that he should have a hand in this.
Before either of us can make a poor choice though, Theo is between us again. “I found her trail.”
“Perfect.” Arch’s voice sounds angry and sarcastic though. “To the air.”
THERE IS ABSOLUTELY no reason that we should not easily overtake our wingless, human bride.
And yet, we do not. Her trail loops and doubles, has fake offshoots and switchbacks, uses creek beds when possible.
To anyone less skilled than Theo, and Arch, she would be a ghost. As it is, she’s giving us hell.
The fifth landing within an hour to search for her trail on the ground and I’m antsy, pacing. But staying well out of the way of my chime, useless as I am.
I am afraid. Of so many things: that she’ll escape, that she’ll be injured, but most of all that she’ll be found by someone who reports her and thus, us.
None of the first year women tried to escape. Why would our bride do this?
Yet again, Theo directs us back to the air after finding the trail. She’s evading us.
I look at the sun and see that we have barely an hour of daylight left. Fear strikes my heart and this time, it’s fear for our little bride. The forest is not a safe place for a soft human.