I blink against the muted light of dawn, filtered through something hanging above my head and massively disoriented.Fuck, I must have fallen asleep.
Which is both alarming, and nothing short of a miracle.
As I wake up, I realize the thing blocking my view? Blue tipped, tawny brown, gold, and black feathers, some bent at awkward enough angles to let in light. And while I’m not exactly toasty, I’m not a human popsicle either.
He tucked me under his mangled wing to keep me warm.
Iknewit. He may be feral, but he’s still in there somewhere. He just needs someone that won’t give up on him.
While he’s passed out and unable to fight me on it, I gently press my hand against his injured wing and close my eyes, feeling my palm heat. Liquid fire spreads through my veins and I grit my teeth, but refuse to quit. Bit by bit, I mend every broken bone, speed up the healing process on his bruises until they fade,and stitch together his punctured lung. A small eternity later, I can’t sense anything else that needs healing and the soft silver glow fades from my skin, replaced by a tidal wave of pain so severe, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out and risk waking him. I watch the black veins in my hand disappear beneath my sleeve, waiting for them to fade. Much to my dismay, it takes a solid minute before I can pass as normal again.
Note to self, splurge on a pair of gloves the first chance I get.
Carefully, I extract myself and pull the granola bar I found in the back of my cupboard out of my pocket, quietly unwrapping it and leaving it in my place.
I might have healed the shifter’s broken bones, but he’s still far too weak. Starvation is only going to drive him deeper into his feral instincts; he needs it more than me right now. I’m lucky enough to have a brother that won’t let me go hungry if I can take the hit to my pride and ask for help. This guy? I’m all he’s got.
Poor sap drew the short straw on guardian angels.
Chapter 7
Zayd
Sweet citrus, with the faintest hint of strawberries.
The scent surrounds me, teases me. Tries to lull me into a false sense of security that smells likehome.
It takes an alarming amount of effort to drag myself out of dreamland, battling the edge of consciousness enough to finally win. Once I peel my eyelids open, the sense of wrongness slowly creeps in, chasing away the fog of sleep. Pressure on my back has me frowning in confusion, and when I see the blanket covering me, it only doubles. Flashes of purple and that soft, enticing scent slip through my grasp like sand, no matter how much I try to cling to them.
It was only a dream.
But I can’t shake the feeling ofrightnessthat came with it. Of soft touches that stole the pain away.
Memories clash with dreams, and it’s hard to tell which is which. But the more I gain my bearings, the more I notice… it doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore. Tentatively, I adjust my broken wing, but there isn’t the usual wave of fiery pain to accompany it.
She wasn’t a dream.
The thrill that shoots through me is quickly snuffed out by the realization that if itwasreal? It means I was so out of it that I let her get close enough totouch me. If it was anyone other than her, I’d be dead.
And I likely would’ve been if she hadn’t come to save me.
As I test my wing, I catch sight of a speckled brick that has me temporarily freezing before I pounceand scarf it down in two bites.
Gods, when was the last time I ate?
Another flash of purple and the soft, lilting sound of nondescript words trickles through my mind, accompanied by the satisfaction of food. She’s… kind. All soft touches and sweet scents, bringing me food when she should run far, far away from me. Soft things get hurt. Sweet things get crushed.
Everyone around me is in danger.
Slowly, I creep out of the shelter, and instantly regret it. The world before me is a frigid, icy wasteland. It’s a far cry from home, where it rarely ever snows. Here? It makes it brutally clear that I took the weather for granted.
I’ll never complain about harsh summers again.
The faint scent of blood orange and leather hits me and I stiffen, fur bristling as I brace for the next blow to come.
“Aww, is that all you’ve got for me?” A smack against my cheek until my vision clears. “Come on, kitty, I thought you were some terrifying guardian, or some shit. Is this really all you can take?” Pain like I’ve never felt before wracks my body, back arching off of the metal table I’m strapped to. “It’s not that hard. Tell me where to find it, and all the pain stops.”
A few seconds pass before another wave of agony knocks me on my ass, and I retreat further into my mind to survive it. I can’t tell them. Even if I don’t survive this torture, Ican’t.Ifhewere to find them, gods only know what he’d do.
