Chapter 3 Diaval
Diaval
Sitting in the passenger seat, I observe my old friend battling his bird over his feelings for the wolf.
He hangs on her every word, listening intently.
This is exactly why I didn't want a mate.
You forget yourself, and slowly your world becomes about them.
The last few months have brought terrifying changes in my behavior.
Where I once rarely went out to enjoy a drink at the bar, I found myself there frequently—especially the nights that little siren was working.
Easton battles himself and the feelings his phoenix wishes to pursue.
It's hard as a mythic to allow oneself to bond to somebody with so few years.
I believe that's the most troublesome part for him, even though we would share our lifespan with her.
If I'm being honest with myself, the hardest part for me is accepting the others within her bond.
Easton's twitchiness increases almost exponentially, and this won't bode well for the safety of our passengers.
I offer for us to pull over and switch so we arrive at our destination safely.
He switches places with me quickly, and we're back on the road.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Easton turn to watch her.
I can't lie to myself any further. As much as I try to deny it, I have feelings for the little she-wolf in the back seat.
My eyes glance up to the rearview mirror to make sure she's okay.
She's curled up tightly, resting on top of her bear mate with her hands pulled against her chest, facing the front of the car.
I find myself developing jealousy—a feeling I've never experienced in my entire existence.
The pull and need within, and yet the anger that someone else is holding her.
The man that I am has not come to terms with the idea that we must share our mate.
Even worse, she isn't a dragon like us. She can't fly. .. my dragon supplies.
Rolling my eyes, I attempt to focus on the road until I notice movement to my right.
It becomes apparent as I look over at Easton that he's also jealous the bear gets to hold her.
As much as my dragon urges me to go to her, it may not be safe.
To live as long as I have, I have enemies lurking in shadows who may try to use her against me.
Without a shadow of a doubt, they would use my soft-skinned mate against me, knowing full well I would give them anything to keep her safe.
Huffing out a sigh, I try to remember the safe route to the ocean. She's never been anywhere, my dragon reminds me as I search my memory for sights to show her.
Norburg is as dark as I remember. The dangerous sides of our communities tend to congregate here.
The shops are fronts for money laundering and drug dealing for this part of the continent.
Khal's people run most of the legal and illegal drug trade for the area.
He pulls his hood up over his head and covers his face until we're out of the main part of town.
He explained earlier that it was safer if the citizens of Norburg didn't know he was leaving the area—he and his brother keep the rest of the group in line.
If rumors got out that they were gone, all hell might break loose.
We pass through sketchy parts of the woods after leaving Norburg.
Dark shadows of all different sizes move deep within the tree line, and I take his warning seriously.
The Fang and Claw Inn is also passed, and you can see the shady underbelly of our society lurking around the outside of the building.
Motorcycles and beat-up trucks line up out front with their colors emblazoned upon them.
A body comes flying out the front window and crashes onto the hood of a truck.
I make haste and get us away from the area, heading toward the Crossroads Inn.
The scenery heading south changes from pines mixed into the woods to mostly hardwoods.
The Crossroads Inn is run by one of my flight members, Tregar.
He'll provide us with safe refuge for the night and a meal fit for a king.
He has a series of suites meant for groups like ours so we may have privacy.
Being substantially older than he is, buying his silence will be inexpensive compared to if any of my companions tried it.
Feray starts to stretch and move around in the back seat.
Easton whips his head back, watching again.
"How about we take a break before we get to the inn? Maybe stretch our legs for a while?" I suggest the break more for Easton than the others. We really don't need him spontaneously combusting in the car.
Everyone agrees, and I look for a suitable place to park.
Up ahead, there's a meadow and a stream with a patch of woods nearby.
I pull over onto the shoulder, and everyone takes their time getting out.
My eyes immediately lock on Feray and the way she turns her nose to the wind.
Smart little wolf. My dragon is pleased with her checking the wind.
Looking around, I study the surrounding area for danger.
With everything going on and the attacks aimed at Feray and Fiadh, caution is at the forefront of my mind.
We don't know which sister is the true target.
My gut tells me my inamorata is the one being hunted.
Perhaps that's why she has the more powerful mates? I'll ponder this once we reach the inn.
The meadow stretches out in a picturesque display of natural beauty—a scene of tranquility and harmony.
Lush, emerald-green grass sways gently in the breeze.
Wildflowers of every hue adorn the landscape, their petals painted in vibrant reds, yellows, purples, and blues.
The air fills with delicate fragrances of lavender, honeysuckle, and fresh earth.
A gentle stream meanders through the heart of the meadow, its water crystal clear, reflecting the azure sky like a mirror.
Small pebbles line the stream bed, and its melodious murmur is a constant companion.
Tall trees stand sentinel on the meadow's edge, their leaves rustling in the wind, branches offering patches of dappled shade.
Birds flit and sing among the branches, adding their cheerful voices to the chorus.
In the distance, rolling hills rise, their slopes covered in a patchwork of forests and fields.
The entire scene seems like a painting come to life.
"There are several deep pools in the stream. I'm going to fish for lunch," Torben offers as he strips out of his clothes. His bear rips free from its human prison and lands hard on the earth before raising its head to roar.
Feray giggles as she watches her mate shift.
She mentions something about him being an enormous teddy bear, and I turn quickly to gape at her.
She called one of the ultimate terrestrial killing machines a teddy bear.
Love does funny things to one's perception of danger.
Either that, or she has no sense of self-preservation.
For my sanity's sake, I can only hope it's love that blinds her to the danger her mate's shift poses.
"I'm going to go find somewhere to pee," Feray tells us before walking off into the forest. I watch her for as long as I can follow her path down the deer trail before scanning the area again. Turning, I choose to watch Torben hunt, curious how a mammal so large will accomplish it.
The bear's massive frame, covered in thick, dark brown fur, exudes raw strength and dominance.
His sharp claws, designed for digging and catching fish, glisten in the soft golden sunlight filtering through the canopy.
The stream is surrounded by lush greenery and framed by towering pines.
Water flows gently, gurgling over smooth river rocks.
With remarkable patience, the Kodiak lowers his massive head toward the water, keen eyes fixed on the underwater world.
His senses are finely tuned, honed by generations of instinctual hunting.
It has always amazed me how different species hunt.
Take Feray, for instance—what her wolf lacks in size, she makes up for with speed and agility.
The basilisk, as huge as it is, can cover a large area quickly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a change in Torben's position.
His body tenses, ready to strike at the perfect moment.
Suddenly, he lunges forward, powerful forepaws plunging into the water.
The surface explodes in a frenzy of splashes as his massive claws snag a silvery, glistening trout.
With brute force, he hoists the fish out, his powerful jaws clamping down on the slippery prize.
Water droplets spray in every direction as he triumphantly captures the trout.
As soon as his teeth sink into the head of the fish, he lays it on the bank.
When he's sure it won't move, he returns to the stream, walking up and down, searching for the next one.
Khal's phone rings, and he steps away to answer.
He keeps looking up the road from where we came, then back down to where we are.
Easton keeps pacing up and down the roadside, looking into the woods, watching for Feray. He's anxious, and I understand why. Between the symbols left at the crash site and the same one carved into the satyr, it's definitely unnerving.
Pulling out the notepad I've been keeping on the facts we've gathered, I review it.
Not looking good. Too many things line up that suggest our little wolf is more than she appears to be.
The feeling of her Luna gifts brushing over my skin when she calmed the masses was amazing.
Like the elder said, there are only three bloodlines that produce Lunas of that caliber.
By the looks of it, having seen her fur color, I suspect we'll find the answer we're looking for in the tundra.
Khal returns and looks at Easton watching the woods intently. "The path to the ocean is clear as far as I could find out. My uncle's people have taken Moors Farm to the north, so we should steer clear of that on the way back." He keeps typing on his phone before looking up at me again.
"Thank your informant for me. The information they're providing is quite useful."
Glancing down at my notepad, then to my phone, I send a text to Tregar warning him that my party and I should arrive by nightfall. He informs me he has a large suite with multiple beds and rooms we can have. I book it with him.
Torben keeps fishing, throwing fish after fish onto the bank.
Khal eventually finishes his information hunting and goes to start a small fire to cook with.
I haven't roughed it in centuries. This should be an interesting experience.
Easton keeps his gaze locked on the woods as he paces back and forth. His bird is concerned.
His senses aren't like ours or the bear's, my dragon supplies—a fact I'd forgotten.
His sense of smell isn't as acute as the bear's and nowhere near the wolf's.
He can't use his tongue like Khal and me to taste the air for changes.
What he does have is incredible eyesight that puts all of us to shame, and he can heal with a single tear.
Birds explode from the treetops to the west. Everyone stops what they're doing to focus on the spot where the birds came from.
"See anything?"
"No," Easton says, but somehow I'm not convinced everything is alright.
"Something feels off. I can't put my finger on it." He turns to look at me, and his eyes are balls of fire. His bird is close to the surface, and that may not be the best thing right now.
"What feels off?" Khal questions as he flicks his tongue in the air several times.
"I'm not sure... It just is..." Damn phoenixes and their non-answer answers.
"If she's not out in ten minutes, we're going in after her." I move toward the head of the deer trail, watching for Feray.
Easton's anxiety is getting to me. What if he's right?