"Ribs hurt. But the breeding helped already. The hormones are working." My palm found the curve of my stomach instinctively, feeling the eggs' steady presence. "Eggs are still fine. I'd know immediately if something was wrong."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." I looked up at him. "We're all okay. Hurt, but okay. We'll heal."
He wrapped his good wing around me carefully. "Sleep. We earned it."
"No more fighting after this?"
"No more fighting. The threats are eliminated. The territory is secured." He was near enough to hear him breathe carefully, avoiding the bruised ribs. "From now on—just living the life we fought for."
I closed my eyes and let exhaustion take me.
We were wounded and exhausted and bleeding. But the threats were dead. The war was over. We'd won, and now wecould finally start building the life we'd been fighting for all along.
The gravity of the kill settled heavy in my chest. Not mercy this time, but necessity. A tally I hoped wouldn't grow much longer.
DRAV
Pain woke me—sharp and immediate, not the dull ache of old wounds healing slowly over time.
The torn wing membrane throbbed where I'd tried to heal it overnight through sheer will, which hadn't worked at all. The tear was too extensive—six inches of membrane split along the primary bone structure, edges ragged and refusing to knit together properly. Flying was impossible and would be for days, maybe longer if I couldn't keep it immobilized.
Hallie was already awake, sitting beside me with supplies spread out in organized rows. Water. The herbal paste I'd used on her wounds weeks ago. Strips of membrane for bandaging. Everything laid out methodically like she'd been planning this for a while.
"Let me see it," she said without preamble.
I extended the damaged wing slowly, trying not to wince at the pull. The tear looked worse in daylight—edges ragged where Kethar's claws had caught me, blood dried in dark streaks across the membrane. If infection set in, I could lose the entire wing structure. Could be permanently grounded, useless for anything that mattered.
She cleaned the wound carefully, and the water was cold enough to sting. I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let her see how much it hurt.
"This needs to be held together while it heals," she said after examining the tear from multiple angles. "If the edges separate further, it won't close properly. Could leave you with permanent damage."
"I know."
"So we need to immobilize it completely. Keep it folded against your back. No flight for at least a week, maybe longer."
A week grounded felt like an eternity. Vulnerable. Unable to patrol properly. While defending new territory that other males might already be circling. Perfect timing for an injury like this.
"What about you?" I asked, looking at her properly for the first time this morning. She had a deep bruise spreading across her ribs where Vhel must have caught her before she'd led him to the trap, and she was moving carefully, favoring her left side in ways that suggested significant pain.
"Cracked rib. Maybe two." She said it casually, like it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Hurts to breathe deeply but I can function well enough."
"Hallie—"
"I'm fine." She applied the paste to my wing tear, her hands steady and confident despite her own injuries. "We've both been hurt worse than this. This is manageable if we're smart about it."
She was right, but that didn't make it easier. We were both wounded. Both limited in our capabilities. Both vulnerable to attack from males who might see this as their opportunity.
"I'll need to bind this," she said, preparing the membrane strips carefully. "It's going to restrict your range of motion completely. “Extension will be impossible.”"
"Do it."
She worked carefully over the next several minutes, wrapping the membrane strips around my wing in layers, securing the tear and immobilizing the entire structure against my back. When she finished, the wing was completely unusable—folded, bound, dead weight that served no purpose except to heal.
"How long?" I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be good.
"Five days minimum. Maybe seven depending on how well you follow instructions." She started cleaning her own wounds, the bruised ribs and multiple cuts across her arms. "The breeding will help. Bonding hormones accelerate healing considerably. But you need rest too. No fighting. No stress on that membrane whatsoever."
