Chapter 3
Daya’s Homestead, Hannelore Mountain, Realm of Eldridge
Daya sat on her reinforced fence railing and watched the sun set, the golden rays intertwining with the faint purple hue of rising moonlight. Her feathered companion, Neka, pushed into her hand with a soft purr, indicating she’d been missed the few weeks she’d been away.
The owlcat was a majestic creature. Perched next to her, Neka dipped her head in request. Daya obliged, stroking her hand through the downy soft fur and feather combination on the owlcat’s head.
Though she couldn’t mind speak with Neka the way she could with the hawks, she’d raised her from an owlet and had no problems understanding her non-verbal language.
Arriving at her hidden mountain homestead the day before, she had felt strangely self-conscious. Keeping to herself and her unusual way of life as a guardian, she had rarely invited others into her domain. Neka, the hawk pair, and her horse were her main companions.
The owlcat had a natural lifespan of up to two hundred years. Having been altered by the magic of the mountain, Daya was happy to know she’d have a companion to confide in throughout her years as a guardian, which would be in the hundreds as well.
Raiden had crashed as soon as they’d arrived and hadn’t woken for nearly a full day. She’d let him sleep, checking on him frequently to make sure he was doing alright. It was strange to have anyone in her home, let alone a man.
She’d been less solitary in the beginning of her time as guardian, but that had ended in disaster.
Her life was made up of secrets. After a time, they’d started to drive a wedge between her and Draven—the man she’d tried to love.
He’d been willing to accept her. Draven had wanted to be with her enough to risk the dangers that came with becoming a guardian.
A miracle, she’d first thought. Until he’d lost his life in the attempt.
Decades had passed since then, and she’d grown to accept the solemn nature of her life. Having Raiden with her was beginning to rouse yearnings she thought she’d left behind.
Neka rumbled, dipping her head to rub against Daya’s shoulder. Bracing slightly, she leaned into the display of affection so that she wasn’t pushed off the railing by her pet. Sounds reached them from the house as Raiden stepped outside.
Daya sucked in a breath at seeing him. He’d come outside without a shirt, his muscled chest tapering into a lean stomach.
Though his shoulder and abdomen were heavily wrapped, he’d removed the bandage from the slice across his chest. Without blood covering him, he glowed against the backdrop of dark green and brown foliage of the mountain.
“We named him well,” she murmured to Neka.
The shimmering light of sunset reflected off his long, brushed-out hair, making it gleam in the light.
He appeared to be a living version of his legendary namesake.
The golden sky hunter reborn. There were multiple hunters of varying descriptions in their myths, but he was Raiden’s golden image come to life, save for the wings.
She shivered as tingling fluttered along her spine.
In that instant, it was hard to remember that he’d been in danger of dying merely a week ago.
His stance wavered as he carefully navigated her front steps. His grip on the support beam the only thing keeping him from hitting the ground.
Shaking her head at his stubbornness, she went to him. “You shouldn’t be trying to move this much yet.”
“Sunshine and fresh air are good for healing.”
Despite his words, he winced as he took the final step to the ground and steadied himself.
Sighing, Daya put her shoulder beneath his good one and took some of his weight.
“You’re lucky I’m tall,” she murmured.
His attempt to laugh cut off abruptly into a pained groan. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Smiling to herself, Daya helped the stubborn warrior over to the low railing. A little time outdoors wouldn’t hurt him, as long as he didn’t fall.
Coming to a halt, she slipped her arm from his waist and let him use the post for support. His eyes immediately focused on the owlcat sitting on the railing.
The pause gave Daya time to slow her pulse, which seemed to have sped up even more when she noticed that he’d shaved the light beard from his face. She moved to Neka’s other side so that she could watch him without hovering at his side.
“I’ve never seen an owlcat up close. She’s incredible,” he breathed softly.
Holding out a hand, he offered his scent to Neka, letting her nudge him with her white head in invitation. Her paw came up to hold his arm in place as he began to stroke her fur. Raiden chuckled and took a step closer so he could pet her better.
“She’s a snowy owlcat, as you can probably guess.”
Neka had a thick layer of soft white fur covering her body, all the way down to her paws. A top layer of feathery fur showed white with faint gold spots and streaks. When spread, her huge wings were a combination of white, gold, and brown.
“Are they usually this affectionate?” Raiden asked as Neka purred and rubbed against his hand. “Or is she just that way because of you?”
Daya frowned. “You think I changed her natural behavior?”
“Ereven and Ember behave in no way like normal hawks.”
“Mmm,” she hummed noncommittally.
As the winged guardians of Hannelore, they only looked like normal hawks. They were bonded just as she was to the mountain, giving them the ability to mind speak and an extended lifespan. The three of them were meant to function as a unit.
Her relationship with Neka was entirely different. She tufted the fur on the owlcat’s rounded head.
“I raised Neka from an owlet. My father rescued her from a flood and brought her to me when her parents couldn’t be found.”
Raiden tilted his head in confusion as he studied Neka, running a gentle finger down her feathery neck. “She’s fully grown.”
“Yes.”
Owlcats didn’t reach maturity until they were over eighty years old, and Daya was well aware she appeared to be around thirty, her aging slowing to an infinitesimal rate once she accepted the call of guardian.
Ignoring his lifted eyebrow, she chose not to elaborate.
The intricacies of her altered aging process were not something she wanted to discuss. He’d have to live with the mystery.
Daya cleared her throat. “I made bone broth for you if you’re hungry.”
Wrinkling his nose at the herb-laden concoction, he made a sound of displeasure.
“I know I’m not that hungry. Healing slowly is awful.”
“You’re walking better today.” The limp would plague him for a long time, maybe forever, but he was putting more weight on the leg than during their journey.
“Am I? Hurts so much I can’t tell, and I still can’t move my arm.”
Worry tightened his features, and she read fear in his eyes when he looked at her.
“You’re not dying, Raiden. And you’re not losing your arm. But the muscles were cut through in some places. That’s going to take a long time to heal. The important thing is that you’re recovering from the blood loss.”
“I know, you’re right.” He sighed, shaking off the morose worries. “I actually came out to ask you a favor.” He pulled a pair of scissors from his pants pocket. “Will you cut my hair?”
“Really?”
“Changing it will help disguise me.”
The statement was certainly factual, but it lacked the emotional weight of truth. Choosing mercy, she let it be. He’d tell her if and when he was ready. Pushing him wouldn’t do him any favors in the long journey of healing. His internal wounds were deeper than they appeared.
“Can you sit on the railing, or should we go back inside?”
The beams were wide pieces of wood built to accommodate Neka and the hawks in addition to marking the entrance to her home. Though shaped more like a small leopard than an owl, she still liked to perch on the thick rails as if they were tree branches.
“Here, please.”
She conceded with a nod. Though he seemed reluctant to admit it, his movements were stealing his strength. She’d need to be quick, or she’d end up carrying him back.
Neka watched curiously as Raiden got settled, winding his good arm around the post next to him for support. It would work well enough.
Steeling herself, she raked her fingers through his hair. The strands were fine and light, weighed down by the long length. He stiffened briefly as she grazed his scalp, so she did it again, letting him get used to her touch.
After a few moments of her simply playing with his hair, he relaxed. The more she wound her fingers along his head and massaged his scalp, the more tension eased from him.
Once she felt he wouldn’t startle or tense up unexpectedly, she picked up the scissors. Cutting a huge length of his hair, she handed it to him.
Neka sniffed curiously at the long, golden strands in his hand.
“You want them, Neka?” Raiden offered her his hair.
The owlcat gently nipped at the strands, taking them before the breeze could catch them.
Daya smiled at her pet as she went back to work, wondering how Raiden would feel about the contribution to Neka’s nest. The majority of his hair fell away quickly, letting her focus on trimming and shaping the sides and back.
“Turn around for me.”
He did as she asked, struggling for balance momentarily before settling again. A bead of sweat on his brow and a heavy intake of breath accompanied the movement.
She didn’t comment on it. Instead, she stepped closer and braced one of his legs with her own to keep him wedged against the post. It brought her a little closer than practical for using the scissors but was better than him falling or stressing the abdominal muscles around his gut wound.
She assessed his face and trimmed carefully around his ears. The long strands in the front came last, and she cut them short so that they would fall into the pattern of close-cropped hair. It gave his face a sharper, more intense look that suited him.