Chapter 10 #2
The impact shattered the thin ice like glass, shards flying in every direction, and the shock of the frigid water enveloped me.
It stole my breath for a moment—not from cold but from the sudden pressure, the weight of it pressing against my chest. My wings tucked tight against my body as I cut through the watery darkness, my eyes adjusting instantly to the murky depths.
Everything took on a greenish tint, and I could see the bottom of the lake, covered in silt and rotting leaves.
A fish darted past, too small, barely worth the effort.
Another, larger, tried to flee, but my hand shot out and caught it firmly, my fingers closing around its slippery body just behind the gills.
I kicked toward the surface, breaking through with my prize thrashing in my grip, its tail slapping against my wrist.
I tossed it onto thicker ice near the shore, where it flopped and gasped, and dove again.
And again.
By the time I finished, four good-sized fish lay on the ice, their silver scales catching what little light filtered through the storm clouds, creating tiny flashes like scattered coins.
My clothes clung to me, heavy with water, the fabric plastered to my skin and pulling at my shoulders, but I felt no discomfort.
Only satisfaction. For a Gudari, there was no better source of pride than providing for one's mate.
The thought stopped me cold—colder than the water dripping from my wings and hair, running in rivulets down my chest.
Mate.
I stared down at the fish, my chest suddenly tight, my heart hammering against my ribs. When had I started thinking of her that way? Ellie wasn't my mate. She was human. An important Earth female I'd vowed to protect. Nothing more.
But the word had come so naturally, so easily, like it belonged there in my mind when I thought of her, like it had always been there waiting to surface.
My wings gave an involuntary flutter, water droplets flying, and I forced them still, jaw clenching so hard my teeth ached.
No. I couldn't—I wouldn't—go down that path.
The goddess had blessed me with a mate and child.
When they died, that part of me died with them.
I'd accepted that. Made peace with it during long, sleepless nights in the pits, staring at blood-stained walls.
Ellie was different. She had to be different. Surely what I felt was just protectiveness.
I gutted the fish, perhaps more roughly than necessary, my claws cutting deep and tearing rather than slicing clean, and when finished, launched myself into the air.
The wind bit at my wet skin, but I barely noticed.
All I could focus on was the uncomfortable realization settling in my gut like a stone, heavy and unmovable.
I pushed it aside and reengaged my cuddwisg device as though the disguise provided some sort of barrier that would keep these dangerous thoughts at bay.
When I stepped inside the tent, water still streamed from my wings, my skin, and my pants dripped, leaving puddles on the ground. Ellie's head snapped up from where she'd been organizing our supplies.
"Rickon! You're soaked!" She scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with concern, taking in my drenched state. "Get in here, you must be freezing."
I shook my head, holding up the fish. "I don't feel cold as you do. My body—"
"I don't care what your body does differently." She was already moving toward me, her small hands reaching for the fish. "You're dripping wet and it's below freezing out there. Strip down and get by the fire. Now."
The commanding tone in her voice made my wings flutter again. That damned involuntary response I couldn't seem to control around her. I caught them mid-movement, forcing them to still, but not before she noticed.
"Ellie, I'm fine."
"Rickon." She looked up at me, her jaw set stubbornly, her eyes blazing with determination. "Please."
That single word, soft and almost pleading despite the steel beneath it, undid me completely.
I sighed and began unfastening my harness, the buckles slick with water, letting it fall to the ground along with my weapons belt.
My pants followed, peeling away from my skin with some difficulty, leaving me in nothing but my loincloth.
The fabric clung to my body, still damp from the lake, outlining everything.
I would no doubt have sported an erection if not for the chill. Small mercies.
Ellie's breath caught, just barely, but I heard it. And then I smelled it. That sweet, heady scent that had been growing stronger over the past few days. A scent that made my pulse quicken every time I caught even a hint of it. Arousal. Her arousal.
My wings trembled, threatening to flutter again.
I had to concentrate to keep them still, every muscle straining with the effort as I moved past her toward the stove.
I felt her eyes on me, tracking the movement of my body, lingering on the breadth of my shoulders, the muscles of my back, the way water still trickled down my spine.
I settled near the wood stove, close enough to feel its warmth radiating against my damp skin. Behind me, I heard Ellie take a shaky breath, then busy herself with prepping the fish, the sounds of her knife scraping overly loud in the quiet tent.
"These are amazing," she said, her voice slightly higher than normal, breathier. "You caught four? That's... that's impressive."
I glanced back at her over my shoulder and caught her staring at my back, at the way the muscles shifted as I moved, before her eyes darted away again toward where she shoved two of the fish into a small pan.
The scent of her arousal intensified, filling the small space, and something primal and possessive stirred in my gut, something I'd thought long buried.
My cock stirred as well, shaking off the cold.
I gritted my teeth, forcing it into submission.
I liked this. I liked how she looked at me that way. I liked how I affected her, made her pulse quicken, and her scent change. I liked the way her cheeks flushed when our eyes met, that delicate pink spreading across her skin.
After my mate died, I thought that part of me was gone forever. The part that wanted to be desired, to be seen as male rather than just a warrior. The part that took pride in a female's interest.
But Ellie made me feel it again. Made me feel alive again in ways I'd forgotten were possible, ways that terrified and exhilarated me in equal measure.
And my wings—traitorous fucking things—kept trying to flutter every time she looked at me.
Among the Gudari, it was the most obvious signal of attraction, an involuntary response as natural as breathing, like the hardening of one's cock.
Young males constantly teased each other for their inability to control their wings around females they fancied.
I was far too old to be acting like a fledgling. Yet here I was, fighting to keep my wings still and my cock under control while a human female made my heart race with nothing more than a glance.
"They should cook well," I said, my voice rough, almost gravelly. "The lake is still well-stocked despite the cold."
Ellie nodded, still not quite meeting my eyes as she settled the pan on the stove. But I saw the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and I knew—she was as aware of this thing between us as I was.
"Bass," she said softly, flipping the fish in the pan. The sizzle of frying meat echoed in the tent, the smell already making my mouth water. "These are bass."
"Like the store," I said without thinking. "The one we pillaged."
Her cheeks flushed deeper, though whether from embarrassment or the heat of the stove, I couldn't tell.
"God, I still can't believe we just... took all that stuff.
" She shook her head, her hair falling forward to hide her face.
"When this is all over. When everything gets straightened out.
I'm paying them back for every single thing.
Every bottle of water, every blanket, all of it. "
The earnestness in her voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. Even running for her life, in the middle of something she hadn't asked to be part of, she worried about doing the right thing, about honor.
"They would understand," I said gently. "Survival requires difficult choices."
"Maybe." She resumed her work, but her jaw set in that stubborn way I was beginning to recognize that meant she would not be swayed. "But I'm still paying them back."
The fish cooked quickly, the skin crisping to a perfect golden brown, bubbling and popping in the pan.
When Ellie divided them onto our plates—mismatched metal camping dishes—the smell alone made my mouth water.
The first bite was heaven. Flaky, tender meat that tasted of the clean, icy lake, fresh and simple and perfect.
"Oh my God," Ellie mumbled around a mouthful, her eyes closing in bliss. "This is so good."
I had to agree. We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the occasional scrape of forks against plates. When we finished, Ellie immediately set to work cleaning up, scraping the plates clean and wrapping the scraps in plastic.
"Can't leave anything that might attract animals," she explained, tucking the bundle into one of our supply bags and securing it. "Bears, coyotes, whatever else is out there."
While she worked, I grabbed our empty water bottles and stepped outside into the frigid dawn.
The snow had stopped, leaving everything blanketed in white that glowed faintly in the growing light, pristine and untouched.
I found a clear patch of snow away from the tent, scooped it into the bottles until they were full, packed it down, and brought it back inside to set on the stove.
It would melt while we slept, and by sunset we'd have clean water.