Chapter 12
Rickon
Ellie was my mate.
Among the Gudari, there was no mystical bond that snapped into place, no sudden rush of recognition.
My people fell in love the way humans did—slowly, carefully, with all the uncertainty and hope that came with opening one's heart to another.
There were no marks that appeared on the skin like brands, no inexplicable pull that made rational thought impossible and turned grown warriors into fools.
Just a tingle of the wings to draw one's attention.
Just feeling. Just knowing, deep in the soul where truth lived beyond words, when someone was meant to be yours.
My wings had fluttered the moment I first laid eyes on Ellie.
The indication of physical attraction for my kind.
The body's announcement before the mind could catch up.
Now, it seemed they possessed a will of their own, trembling and shifting with each breath she took, each movement of her hand, each time those remarkable eyes met mine.
And I knew.
It wasn't just attraction, though the goddess knew I felt that too.
I felt it like fire in my veins, like lightning dancing across my skin.
It was something deeper, something that resonated in the very core of my being, in that place where my first mate had once lived and breathed.
Where her and our daughter's memory still dwelled like a candle flame that never went out, flickering but eternal.
I had never thought the goddess would bless me again.
After Iloyane and Akiatela were taken by disease, after I'd held them both as their light faded, I'd been certain that my allotment of love for one lifetime died with them.
That I'd used up whatever grace the universe had set aside for a warrior like me.
But now there was Ellie, and my treacherous wings wouldn't stop announcing my attraction to anyone with eyes to see.
Combined with the certainty singing through my veins, and the way my heart seemed to beat in time with hers, I knew what this meant.
Knew it with the same bone-deep conviction that had guided me through battles and kept me alive when others had fallen.
She was my mate. My second chance. My unexpected grace.
And she accepted me. The real me, not the facade generated by the cuddwisg. In fact, she'd asked me to keep the cuddwisg turned off, claiming to prefer my real skin.
The wind currents carried us northwest, steady and chilled against my wings.
Ellie was secured against my chest in the harness, her warmth seeping into my skin.
She'd fallen silent an hour ago, and I could tell from her even breathing that she dozed.
My heart squeezed with the knowledge that she felt so safe in my arms.
But the air was changing.
I felt it in the subtle resistance against my wing strokes, the way the currents grew sluggish and heavy.
The temperature had dropped steadily over the last half hour, with a density to the atmosphere that made my instincts flare with warning.
I'd been flying long enough to read the sky like text on a page.
A storm was building. A bad one.
Not the squall we'd weathered earlier, with its brief fury and quick passage. This would be different. Sustained. Vicious. The kind of storm that could rip wings from sockets and freeze you solid.
I'd flown through many storms in my years as a warrior, had learned to navigate conditions that would ground younger, less experienced flyers. But Ellie? Precious, fragile human Ellie, with her soft skin and inability to regulate her own body temperature? She wouldn't last.
And the tent. It wouldn't hold against winds like these. The gales would shred the canvas and snap the poles like kindling.
I scanned the horizon. Dawn was perhaps two hours away, maybe three. Not enough time to outrun what was coming. We needed shelter. Real shelter. Stone, a cave, or something that would shield us from the worst of the wind and snow.
My wings beat harder as I adjusted our trajectory, searching.
I felt her body tense against mine, a small shiver running through her frame.
"You're awake," I said, pitching my voice low so it wouldn't be lost to the wind.
Another shiver, this one stronger. "Yeah. Hard to sleep when you're turning into a popsicle." Her attempt at humor couldn't quite mask the tremor in her voice.
"Where do you think we are?" I asked, hoping her knowledge of geography might lead us to shelter.
Ellie twisted her head, gazing down at the landscape below.
Endless stretches of forest broken here and there by flickers of light, the occasional lonely road cutting through the darkness.
"Western Minnesota, maybe? We could've crossed into North Dakota already.
It's hard to tell in the dark. Everything looks the same from up here.
" A pause. "It's definitely getting colder, though. "
"A storm is coming." I tightened my hold on her fractionally. "A serious one. We need to find shelter before it hits."
"How serious?" The worry in her voice squeezed my heart.
"The kind that will kill us if we're caught in it."
Ellie grew quiet, and I felt sure her shiver this time had more to do with fear than temperature.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words rough in my throat. "This is my fault. I should have anticipated the turn in the weather. I'm supposed to protect you, and instead I've put you in danger."
"Rickon." Her hand cupped my cheek, warm despite the chill. "Stop. You've protected me from the moment we met."
"But..."
"No buts." Her fingertips traced along my jawline, her bright green eyes boring into mine.
"You can't control the weather. You can't make storms not happen.
What you can do—what you have done—is everything humanly possible.
Well, everything Gudari-ly possible." A small attempt at levity again, trying to lighten the weight between us.
"I feel safer with you than I've ever felt with anybody. Ever. In my whole life."
The admission struck something deep in my chest and made my wings stutter for just a half-beat before I corrected. She meant it. I heard the truth of it in her voice, felt it in the way she pressed closer against me.
"Even now?" I asked quietly. "When I'm flying us into a storm?"
"Especially now. Because I know you'll keep me safe." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer. "I trust you."
Three words. Simple words. But they settled over my heart like a benediction, like a promise, like something precious and fragile that I would guard with everything I had.
Her hand did not leave my face, stroking along my jawline.
Her touch sent electricity through every nerve ending, making something primal and possessive rise up in my chest. My skin seemed to come alive wherever her fingers lay, as though I'd been numb before and was only now remembering what it felt like to be touched with tenderness.
The memory of last night flooded back—her soft body beneath mine, all curves and warmth and yielding sweetness.
The way she tasted, like honey and desire and something uniquely Ellie.
The soft moans she'd made when I'd used my mouth on her, the way her fingers tangled in my hair, the breathless way she'd gasped my name.
I'd pleasured her until she'd shattered apart in my arms, and the sound of my name on her lips as she found her release had been the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard.
My wings gave an involuntary flutter at the memory, and heat pooled low in my belly despite the frigid air around us, causing my cock to stiffen.
Not helpful. Not when we were fighting for survival, not when I needed every ounce of concentration to keep us aloft and find shelter before the storm hit.
But goddess help me, I wanted her. I wanted to land somewhere safe and warm and spend hours mapping every inch of her body with my hands and mouth. Wanted to hear those moans again, feel her arch beneath me, watch her face as pleasure took her.
I wanted to claim her properly, completely, the way a male claimed his mate.
Focus, I commanded myself savagely. She'd given me her trust. The least I could do was keep us alive long enough to deserve it.
I scanned the terrain below, searching for anything—a barn, an overhang, even a dense enough stand of trees that might offer some protection. But there was nothing. Just endless wilderness, the dark mass of forest stretching in every direction like an ocean frozen in time.
We'd passed a small town an hour ago. I considered turning back, trying to find an abandoned building, somewhere with walls and a roof that would hold. But that was an hour of flying directly into the wind. An hour that would drain my strength and expose Ellie to even more frigid temperatures.
The decision weighed on me, heavy as stone. Turn back to the known, or press forward into uncertainty?
I was on the verge of banking into a turn, of choosing the devil I knew over the one I didn't, when something caught my eye.
A glimmer. Brief, almost imperceptible—moonlight reflecting off something metallic just beneath the treeline.
My heart kicked against my ribs. I adjusted our trajectory, angling down through the darkness, my night vision sharpening as we descended. The shimmer resolved itself into a shape. A silver metal roof, barely visible through the dense canopy.
I swooped lower, my wings spread wide to slow our descent.
A log cabin. Small and tucked into a clearing so overgrown it was nearly invisible from above. The structure looked old but solid, the logs darkened with age and weather. One window was partially boarded, and the porch sagged slightly on one side, but the roof and walls appeared intact.