Drav #2
I was circling high when I felt another male entering my territory. Kethar. Younger than me by ten seasons, bigger wingspan, stronger body, no visible signs of unbonded sickness yet. He'd been watching from the territorial boundary for days now, waiting to see if I'd successfully claim this female.
He flew up to meet me at the thermal layer, and his wings spread in challenge display.
"I smell fertile human," he said. His voice carried easily at this altitude. "Unclaimed."
"Claimed." I matched his wing display, making myself look as large as possible. "My territory. My female."
"Not bonded yet though." He flew closer, circling. "I can smell that too. No bite mark, no transformation started. Still just testing her?" He made it sound like an accusation. "I could offer her different terms. Gentler courtship, faster bonding, less suffering before the transformation takes."
"You'd kill her." I spread my wings wider, showing teeth. "She's human. Needs time to adapt. Rush the bonding and her body will reject the change."
"Then she's weak," Kethar said flatly. His wing beats turned aggressive, faster, burning energy. "Let me test that myself. If she can't handle fast bonding, you didn't want her anyway."
"Touch her and I'll rip your throat out."
We circled each other, calculating. I was older, more experienced at aerial combat, knew better tactics for fighting at altitude.
But he was stronger, less fatigued, would heal faster from any injuries I managed to inflict.
And he was desperate. I could see it in the way he flew, slightly erratic, reactions too fast. The unbonded sickness was starting to affect his judgment.
Another season or two and he'd be where I was now, dying slowly and willing to take any risk for a chance at survival.
"I'll wait," he said finally, backing down but not leaving. "If she refuses your bite on day thirty, I claim her second. That's fair under the protocols."
"She won't refuse."
"They always refuse." He was already flying toward the boundary. "That's why they die. You test them too hard, break them wrong, and by the time you offer the bite they just want the pain to stop. They choose to go home damaged. Your patience kills them, Drav."
He disappeared over the ridge before I could respond.
I flew back to my territory and forced myself to think past the rage.
Kethar was wrong. The ones who died, died because their males didn't test properly, didn't give them time to adapt.
Forced bonding too fast and killed them with the transformation stress.
But he was also right about one thing. Time was limited.
The tonic would break her down eventually.
If I waited too long, tested too hard, she might damage herself before I could breed her.
I needed to find the balance. Test her enough to ensure survival but not so much that the tonic destroyed her first.
I found her in the cave that afternoon. She'd tried to satisfy herself again, I could smell it, evidence lingering in how flushed her skin looked, how her pupils stayed dilated. Failed again. The tonic had progressed far enough that her own touch meant nothing.
She was lying in my furs, exhausted, frustrated, still desperately aroused.
I settled at the cave entrance, close enough to speak but far enough to maintain courtship distance.
"You tried again," I said.
She flinched, hadn't heard me land. "Get out."
"How many times today?" I could smell the layers of failed arousal, could estimate from the scent. "Four? Five?"
She didn't answer.
"The tonic's progressed," I continued. "You can't satisfy yourself anymore. Your body's rejected your own chemistry. It only wants mine now."
"I don't want anything from you."
"Your body does. The tonic made sure of that." I shifted position slightly and watched her eyes track the movement despite her anger. "By tomorrow the need will be worse. By day four you'll come looking for me, asking for relief. Maybe begging if you're proud."
"I won't beg."
"You will." I was certain because I'd seen it before. "The tonic doesn't give you a choice. It builds and builds until asking for help becomes the only option that doesn't involve dying."
She closed her eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why not just take what you want?"
"Because the bonding doesn't work if you're not willing.
" I kept my voice level, explaining facts she needed to understand.
"If I breed you without true consent, your body might accept the breeding, might even accept the bond.
But when transformation eventually comes—days later, weeks later—your body will reject it.
Your back will split open and the wings won't grow properly.
You'll die in agony." I paused to let that sink in.
"The courtship ritual exists for a reason.
You have to choose me, ask for me, want me clearly enough that your body accepts the change when it comes. "
"So you torture me with this tonic until I'm desperate enough to agree to anything."
"Yes."
At least I could be honest about it.
"How long do I have?" she asked quietly.
"Most break by day three. You're stronger, so I'd guess day four, maybe day five." I watched her absorb that information. "Then you'll come find me and ask properly. And I'll breed you until the bond takes. Transformation comes later, when your body knows you've truly chosen this."
"And if I don't? If I last all thirty days?"
"Then you go home. Damaged but alive. The Consortium will suppress the tonic and you'll recover eventually." I paused. "But you won't make it thirty days. No one has. The tonic's too strong."
She opened her eyes. Even from this distance I could see her pupils were blown, her breathing too fast, her skin flushed. The tonic was eating her alive from the inside.
"I'm going to try," she said.
"I know. That's why you're different." I stood, preparing to leave.
"I've seen it with other males. Younger ones who bred females on day two when desperation broke them.
They thought breaking was the same as choosing.
But weeks later when transformation started, those females fought it.
Their bodies rejected the changes. They begged to go home, but by then the transformation had begun—going back would have killed them faster. They all died anyway."
"Why?"
"Because their males didn't test them first. Didn't make them strong enough before breeding.
Rushed the bonding, and when transformation came, the females weren't ready.
Their bodies couldn't handle it." I spread my wings.
"You're strong enough to last longer. Which means you have the resilience for the change.
Which means when you finally do break and come looking for me, I'll know you can handle what comes after. "
I launched from the cave before she could respond, before I could give in to the urge to stay, to touch, to take.
I found altitude and watched the sun set over my territory. Copper-green veins glowing below, marking the boundaries I'd defended for forty-three seasons while waiting for a female strong enough to survive bonding with me.
She was below us, fighting the tonic, hating me, hating herself for wanting me.
Two more days, I thought. Maybe three. Then she'll break and I can give her what she needs.