She curled against my uninjured side, fitting herself against me. "So. Six males plus Kethar. Cliff wyrms. Whatever else is out there hunting us. And I'm pregnant which makes me a beacon for every predator in a ten-mile radius."
"Yes."
"We need a better plan than just waiting for them to attack."
She was already strategizing, planning defenses. My human female wasn't panicking—she was strategizing.
"Tomorrow," I said. "Tomorrow we start planning. But today—rest. Let me heal. Let the eggs develop."
She nodded against my chest. "Tomorrow."
But I could feel through the bond: she was already planning. Already thinking about how to defend our territory against multiple threats simultaneously. Already preparing for war in that human way of turning fear into action.
Perfect female. Strong mate. Mine.
I wrapped my wings around her carefully and let myself rest, feeling her heartbeat against my chest and the eggs growing in her belly.
Tomorrow we'd plan.
Tonight, for a few hours, we could just be mates instead of warriors preparing for battle.
HALLIE
Iwoke to Drav already at the cave entrance, wings spread, head tilted. Listening to something I couldn't hear yet.
"What is it?"
"Storm." He didn't turn. "Massive system. I can feel the pressure change. It'll hit by midday."
I joined him at the opening. The orange sky looked the same to me—three moons visible, heat shimmer rising from the sand sea below. "How can you tell?"
"The air tastes different. The thermal currents are shifting." He pulled his wings in. "Our main caves aren't safe for this kind of storm. The entrance faces east—wind will funnel straight through. We need deeper shelter."
I thought about the cave system I'd been mapping over the past few days. "The Warren. I found it three days ago. Deep passages, multiple chambers, entrance faces west. Protected."
"Show me."
The Warren was maybe a mile from our main caves, which didn't sound far until you factored in the vertical terrain. Getting there required crossing an exposed ridge where the wind was already picking up, gusting hard enough to make me braceagainst the rock face. I climbed while Drav flew alongside, both of us moving as fast as we could without being stupid about it.
The entrance was a narrow crack in the obsidian, easy to miss if you didn't know where to look. I squeezed through and Drav followed, wings folding tight against his body to fit through the opening.
Inside: a series of interconnected chambers carved by water over centuries, the walls smooth and striated. The copper-green veins provided dim light that pulsed in slow rhythms. The deepest chamber was maybe fifteen feet across—small, but defensible.
"This will work." Drav moved through the space, checking structural integrity the way I'd seen him check every shelter we'd used. "Good shelter. Protected from wind. Single entrance we can defend."
The first gust of wind screamed past the entrance crack.
"We need to move supplies," I said. "Food, water, furs?—"
"No time." He was already at the entrance, looking out at the darkening sky. Not night—just massive clouds rolling in, black and heavy and moving faster than seemed natural. "Storm's moving faster than I thought. If we go back now, we'll be caught in the open."
"So we're stuck here with nothing?"
"We have each other." He pulled away from the entrance. "And the bond means I can keep you warm. Keep you fed with body heat if necessary."
The wind outside was howling now, building from gusts to sustained force. I watched debris fly past the entrance—small rocks, plant matter, sand picked up from the sea below and flung at speeds that would shred skin.
The storm hit with the force of something alive and angry.
