"Better?" she asked when separation occurred only when he softened, leaving us exhausted after fifteen minutes.
"Much better." I checked my wing carefully, examining the bound membrane. "The breeding helps significantly. You were right about needing this."
"I'm always right." She smiled and curled against my uninjured side. "Three more days and you'll be flying again."
"Three more days."
We rested together in comfortable silence, both wounded but both healing now. Both secure in the knowledge that theterritory was defended properly and the threats were eliminated permanently. The war was over.
Day twenty continued into afternoon.
My wing was healing faster than I'd expected, faster than previous injuries had healed.
The torn edges had sealed completely. The membrane was regenerating visibly, new tissue filling in the gaps. Still tender when I touched it. Still couldn't extend it fully without pain. But in three days, maybe four at most, I'd be flight-capable again.
Hallie's ribs were also improving steadily. She could breathe deeply now without wincing obviously. Could move without favoring her left side constantly. The bonding hormones were working for both of us exactly as they should.
We'd survived everything thrown at us. Defended our territory successfully. Eliminated every threat that approached. And now we were healing together in the home we'd claimed.
"What happens next?" Hallie asked. We were sitting at the southern entrance together, watching the sun set over our territory in comfortable silence.
"Next we live the life we fought for. Raise our young. Defend what's ours." I wrapped my good wing around her carefully. "Build the life we nearly died for."
"No more fighting?"
"No more fighting. The territory is secure. The threats are dead and gone. Henceforth, simple existence."
She pressed closer, hand resting on her pregnant belly protectively. "I like that plan very much."
We settled into our new home. Our territory. Our home. Our future spread before us.
My eyes tracked her progress across the territory over these past days—pregnant, injured, deadly effective—and felt something beyond simple possession. Pride. She wasn't justsurviving this world anymore. She was conquering it completely, making it hers.
HALLIE
Three weeks since the claiming, and Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by wet heat.
The morning routine had become standard over the past two weeks. Same pattern every day without variation. Drav woke before me every morning, positioned himself carefully, and started the day by making me come before I was fully conscious. Then he bred me thoroughly. Then we ate breakfast. Then we lived our lives. Simple. Predictable. Necessary in ways I'd stopped questioning.
I'd stopped feeling awkward or self-conscious about it somewhere around day fifteen, stopped overthinking the constant need. This was just what bonded life meant—daily breeding, often multiple times, my body needing it the same way it needed food and water and air to breathe.
My release was immediate, gasping his name into the furs. He moved up my body immediately, pushed inside without hesitation, knotted me within minutes. We stayed locked together while the sun rose slowly over The Eyrie, both of us content in the routine we'd established.
"Hunting today," he said when the knot released finally. "The ridge nests. You can reach them now even pregnant."
I looked down at my belly, considering. Three weeks since claiming and the eggs were obvious to anyone who looked. Three distinct shapes visible when I pressed my hand there, feeling them move occasionally. My center of gravity had shifted noticeably, but my climbing technique had adapted to compensate. I could still move through the vertical world effectively.
"I can reach them," I agreed.
We hunted together most days now, and it had become something I genuinely enjoyed.
Drav flew patrol while I climbed, and we worked as a coordinated team—he'd spot the nests from above where his aerial perspective gave advantages, then I'd navigate to them using routes wings couldn't access. The Tight vertical slots. The overhangs that needed precise hand placement. The traverses across blank faces where only human flexibility worked.
The ridge nests held cliff swallows, fast birds that were nearly impossible to catch in flight. But their nests were built into cracks that required specific body positioning to reach, narrow spaces where only someone my size could fit. Perfect for me.
I wedged myself into the first crack, working my way deeper into stone. Felt along the rough surface until my fingers found the nest tucked into a protected hollow. Three eggs inside, warm and viable. I took two carefully, left one to hatch. Drav had taught me that principle early—never take everything, never strip a resource completely. Let the population sustain itself for future harvests.
Secured the eggs in my pack and climbed to the next nest.
