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“And I think you’ll find Lukesh was far more reasonable than Brenna,” I said.
He stared at me for a long moment, his tone measured when he spoke again. “Why should we burn and die for a half-breed in a castle? Because he has wings like us and likes to be called Uriden’s Claw?”
“I never said you should fight and die for him. Fightwithus. Fight for your home, for your right to live and die as you please. If Brenna wins, she will take that from you. She’ll burn your goats, your yurts, your women and children… She’ll burn all of it to ash because she enjoys doing it. This is not a war for conquest or unity like Lukesh waged. It’s not about how much of whose blood is in anyone’s veins. I’m human and I fought alongside Skaags and Spooks and Nightmares of all shapes and sizes. Nisang gave his life for them. For me. For all of us, because he knew what I know. This is a war against extermination. Your king, Uriden, went into exile to save your people. Do you really think he’d want you to remember him by sitting here while your lands burn?”
Harif was silent for a long time, considering.
At long last, Harif nodded and rose, taking his bowls and drink with him. “You make a convincing argument, human, but it is not your army, and it is not your war. When Lord Cian wakes, we’ll see how open he is to working with a people who’ve shunned him all his life. Until then, enjoy your evening.” He bowed his head and left the yurt.
I frowned and glanced over at Hellion. “What was that? Why did he ask you for a dance?”
Hellion laughed and then winced. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“Seriously. Why did he ask for that as payment? You’re not some erotic performer who dances on command.”
They smirked. “Feeling a little jealous, are we?”
I flushed to the tips of my ears. “Maybe.”
They leaned back gingerly, avoiding putting their shoulder against anything. “The west has certain ideas about my people that are…Well, to put it mildly, people can be simple and sometimes offensive. We are different because we are monosex species, and different is often conflated with exotic or taboo. People are curious and believe that they have a right to have their curiosity satisfied. They don’t. Personally, I find it curious that so many people are interested in whether I have a cock, especially as I plan on sleeping with exactly none of them, so it doesn’t affect them at all.”
“I never meant to be insensitive.” I set aside the bowl of rice. “I never cared.”
Hellion tipped their head to the side. “I’ve never found you to be insensitive. Naive perhaps, and delightfully dense when it comes to flirting at times, but not insensitive. And as I recall, it was I who first pursued you.”
“Well, I don’t want you to dance for him,” I said and tried to sound firm about it. “If he wants payment, I’ll make him something at the forge, but you’re not dancing for anybody like that.”
“Look at you, being so assertive,” they teased. “Keep it up, and maybe I’ll let you be on top next time.”
“If there is a next time,” I grumbled and went to try to get some broth down Cian’s throat.Please wake up soon, Cian. We need you.
Thenextmorning,Cian’swings were gone. He had shifted positions in his sleep to lie on his side. Both good signs.
Hellion was still sleeping deeply when I woke at dawn. The healer had patched them back together and mended the bone with the warning they’d be sore for a few weeks. They’d fallen right asleep.
I watched Cian sleeping for a few moments, wondering if I should wake him, but I didn’t want to. It was selfish to lie lazily there between both of them, listening to the music of their breath, basking in the warmth of their bodies. After the last few days, I deserved to be a little selfish.
Morning sun came through the walls, painting the inside of the yurt even more red and casting a pale pink shadow on Cian’s face. I couldn’t resist any longer. Two self-serving fingers traced idly along his jaw, pushing aside the wayward strands of hair that hid his mouth. I kissed him gently, greedily savoring the shape of his lips against mine. Lips I thought I would never feel or taste again. We were all here, and we were alive. For a moment, nothing else mattered.
Cian’s lashes fluttered, eyes half open and more focused than they had been yesterday. He looked at me blearily, caught in that moment between a dream and waking.
“Are you back with us now?” I whispered.
His eyes moved away, taking in the red walls, the fans, the stove. His throat moved. Cracked lips parted. “Where?” His voice was still weak and rough.
“A gargoyle settlement. We’re safe for now. You and Hellion were hurt.”
“Hel?”
“Healed up,” I whispered. “Sleeping like a baby next to me.”
The panic hit him in a flood, eyes widening, muscles tensing. “Are you hurt? The battle… the dragon.”
“I’m fine,” I said and stroked his hair. “I have so much more to tell you, so much more to say. I wish I could stay here with you all day, if only to watch you sleep. But the warlord has me on an errand at their forge and you need to sleep so you can get better. I’ll be leaving you in Hellion’s care. You’ll be safe. Promise me you’ll rest?”
Cian closed his eyes and nodded slowly, too tired to fight me.
I kept him awake long enough to drink a little water before putting him back to bed with another layer of the healing salve on his chest. Cian was snoring gently when I stepped out of the yurt into the morning.
