Hallie #2
"Dead. Fell through unstable floor in the caves." I knelt on Kethar's other side, moving with a stiff caution that betrayed the fire in my side. "Your plan failed."
"Most plans do when you're desperate enough to try them." Kethar coughed and more blood came up. "Desperation breeds poor strategy. I knew that going in. Attacked anyway because I had to try something."
"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious despite everything. "You knew you'd probably die. Why not just... accept it? Die with dignity instead of attacking a bonded pair?"
"Because dying alone in a cave is worse than dying fighting for something." Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "Thought maybe I'd get lucky. Thought maybe desperate enough would be strong enough."
Drav looked at me and I nodded, understanding what he was asking without words.
"You fought well," Drav said, positioning his hands carefully at the base of Kethar's skull. "You deserved better than this system gave you."
"Maybe." Kethar's lips curved in something that might have been a smile if he'd had the strength. "Tell the next desperate male you meet—don't attack bonded pairs. The humans are stronger than they look."
"I'll tell them."
One quick motion and vertebrae separated cleanly. Kethar's body went still, finally released from the pain and the sickness and the desperation that had driven him here.
Drav and I sat beside the body in silence for several long moments, both of us processing what we'd just done. What we'd had to do.
"We should move him," I said eventually when I could speak again. "Give him to the scavengers so his death serves some purpose."
"Yes." Drav stood slowly, wincing from his injuries sustained in the aerial fight. Then he looked at me properly for the first time since landing, actually seeing me instead of just the threat we'd eliminated. "He saw me. You're hurt."
"Vhel caught me before I led him to the trap. Claws to the ribs." I tried to breathe normally and failed, the sharp pain making shallow breaths necessary. "Cracked. Maybe two of them broken."
He was on me in a second, hands careful but thorough as they felt my ribs, assessing the damage. Then his palms slid down to cup the swell of my stomach. "The eggs?"
"Safe," I said, feeling their presence through the bond, that constant awareness I'd developed. "I'm hurt but the pregnancy is fine. He struck bone, sparing the child."
"You climbed up here with cracked ribs to see if I was alive."
"Had to see it was over." I leaned against him carefully, mindful of both our injuries. "Had to know you were alive and it was finished."
"We need to verify Vhel is actually dead. Need to see the body and make sure he's not somehow surviving down there." He was studying me, calculating. "But you're injured. The descent—"
"I can do it. Just slower than usual."
"Hallie—"
"We need to be sure," I interrupted, meeting his eyes. "If he survived the fall somehow and we don't check, he could come back when we're vulnerable. I can handle the climb."
He hesitated. But he nodded.
The descent took forty-five minutes instead of the usual thirty.
Every movement sent agony lancing through my flank in waves. I had to stop multiple times just to breathe through it, to let the sharp agony subside enough that I could continue. Drav stayed close the entire descent, ready to catch me if I fell, ready to fly me down if it became too much.
We found Vhel at the bottom.
The fall had killed him—no question about it. Body broken in multiple places, wings shattered beyond any possibility of survival. No doubt. No chance he was somehow alive down here in the darkness.
"That's both of them," I said, looking at the body without satisfaction. "Kethar's entire alliance. Dead."
"Yes." Drav stared at Vhel's broken form. "Young. Strong. Would have been a good mate for someone if timing had been different, if he'd had more seasons before the sickness took him."
"But he attacked us instead."
"Because he was desperate. Because this system kills males who can't find mates fast enough, kills them slowly and painfully.
" Drav turned away from the body. "I was lucky.
You came through the portal when I still had time left.
One more season and I would have been them—attacking bonded pairs, trying to steal what I couldn't earn, dying desperate and alone. "
He sounded hollowed out by loss. Not for Kethar or Vhel specifically, but for all the males this brutal system killed. For the mathematics that said only bonded pairs survived while everyone else died slowly.
"We should go back up," I said, because the chasm was cold and dark and oppressive in ways that made my skin crawl. And because my ribs were intensifying.
"Agreed."
The climb back up was brutal for both of us.
Drav's wing was torn again—the same membrane that had been damaged in previous fights, refusing to heal properly because he kept having to use it. He could barely fly, had to rest multiple times during the ascent where normally he'd just soar up effortlessly.
I had to stop every few minutes because the fire in my side was constant now, sharp and intensifying with each movement. Each breath came shallow because deep breaths sent fire through my side.
We reached The Eyrie as the sun reached its peak position, both of us collapsing in the main chamber immediately. Too exhausted to move further. Too injured to do anything but rest.
Drav recovered first, as he always did. Moved to check me over properly now that we were safe.
"Let me see." His hands were gentle on my side and I still winced beneath his touch spreading across my ribs. "Deep tissue damage. Definitely cracked. Maybe broken cleanly."
"Can you tell if there's internal bleeding?"
He pressed carefully, feeling for signs I wouldn't recognize myself. "I don't think so. But we need to be careful. If the bone fragments shift wrong, they could puncture something vital."
"So no heavy activity for a while."
"No heavy activity," he confirmed. Then his palms slid down to cup the swell of my stomach. "And we need to monitor the eggs closely. Make sure Vhel's strike didn't cause any problems we can't see yet."
"I can feel them. They're fine."
"Now they're fine. But stress can cause complications later." His hand stayed on my pregnant belly, protective in ways that went beyond instinct. "You should rest. Let your body heal before we do anything else."
"I will. But first—" I could feel what he needed through the bond, the desperate need for confirmation and connection and the hormones that would accelerate his healing. "You need to breed me."
"You're injured—"
"And you need the bonding hormones to heal that wing properly. And I need them for these ribs." I shifted carefully to face him despite the pain. "We'll be gentle. Careful. But we both need this or we'll both suffer withdrawal."
He hesitated. But he nodded.
"I'll do the work," I said, making the decision for both of us. "You're too injured to move much. And this way I can control the movement, keep pressure off my ribs."
"Hallie—"
"We're both hurt. We both need this to heal properly. Let me take care of us."
He studied my face for a long moment, searching for certainty. Then he nodded.
I moved to straddle him moving with a stiff caution that betrayed the fire in my side.
Every shift of position sent agony lancing through my flank but I kept my breathing controlled and shallow, working through it because this was necessary. His cocks were already hard—both of them responding to proximity and need. His body knew what it required even if his mind was hesitant.
"Tell me if it hurts too much," he said, hands gentle on my hips in ways that were protective rather than possessive. "If anything feels wrong with the eggs—"
"I will. I promise." I positioned myself over his breeding cock carefully. "Trust me."
I sank down slowly.
The stretch made me gasp like it always did, but my body accepted him the way it had learned to over these weeks. Opened. Welcomed. The familiar fullness that the bond demanded and my body craved.
I moved carefully, rolling my hips in smooth motions that kept pressure off my damaged ribs. We weren't driven by the frantic hunger of the last few days. This was slower, heavier. About care—about two wounded mates taking care of each other the only way we could.
"You fought well," he said, voice hoarse with emotion and need. "Led Vhel into the trap. Defended our nest. Protected our young."
"You fought well too." I kept the rhythm steady, focusing on the sensation rather than the pain. "Drove Kethar into the cliff face. Eliminated the threat."
"We fought well together."
"Partners."
He used both parts of himself to work my body, the dual stimulation helping distract from the fire in my side and making this about pleasure rather than just necessity.
I moved faster but still carefully, listening to my body's signals. The eggs were fine—I could feel them through the bond, safe and protected and growing. Not distressed by any of this.
"The eggs are okay?" Drav asked, reading my expression.
"They're fine. I can feel them clearly. They're not distressed at all." I leaned forward slightly, changing the angle in ways that felt better. "They're safe."
That knowledge let him relax finally, let him focus on the pleasure instead of the fear. His hands tightened on my hips—gentle but possessive in ways that made me clench around him.
I came quietly, nothing dramatic. Just a sharp inhale and a shudder that went through my whole body. Relief and satisfaction mixed together.
Drav followed immediately, the base of him expanding, anchoring us inseparably as seed flooded into me. The bonding hormones triggered immediately, spreading through both our systems and beginning the accelerated healing process we both needed.
We stayed locked for maybe fifteen minutes, both too tired to talk or move. Just existing together in the aftermath, connected in every way that mattered.
Separation occurred only when he softened, leaving us exhausted. I pulled off carefully with deliberate movements protecting my ribs. Curled against his uninjured side where I could rest without causing either of us more pain.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Ribs hurt. But the breeding helped already. The hormones are working." My palm found the curve of my stomach instinctively, feeling the eggs' steady presence. "Eggs are still fine. I'd know immediately if something was wrong."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." I looked up at him. "We're all okay. Hurt, but okay. We'll heal."
He wrapped his good wing around me carefully. "Sleep. We earned it."
"No more fighting after this?"
"No more fighting. The threats are eliminated. The territory is secured." He was near enough to hear him breathe carefully, avoiding the bruised ribs. "From now on—just living the life we fought for."
I closed my eyes and let exhaustion take me.
We were wounded and exhausted and bleeding. But the threats were dead. The war was over. We'd won, and now we could finally start building the life we'd been fighting for all along.
The gravity of the kill settled heavy in my chest. Not mercy this time, but necessity. A tally I hoped wouldn't grow much longer.