Six nests total by the end of the morning. Twelve eggs collected. Enough protein for three days if we rationed properly, longer if we supplemented with other food sources.
Drav circled overhead while I worked, watching for predators and potential threats. But mostly just watching me, and Isensed his satisfaction—his mate, pregnant, still capable and contributing, still strong despite the changes.
I finished the last nest and signaled up to him. He dove down immediately, landing on a ledge beside me with practiced ease.
"Good haul," he said, checking the eggs in my pack carefully. "You're getting faster even with the extra weight."
"I've been climbing my entire life. Pregnancy doesn't change muscle memory or technique, just requires adaptations."
"It changes everything else though." His palms slid down to cup the swell of my stomach, feeling the eggs beneath my skin. "Two more weeks. Maybe three at most. Then you lay them."
The thought made me nervous and excited simultaneously, both emotions tangled together. I'd lay three eggs. They'd hatch in another two months after that. Then we'd have actual offspring. Actual children. A family.
"Will you help me when it happens?" I asked.
"Of course. I'll breed you through the laying process." His hand moved lower between my legs. "And after you lay them, I breed you again immediately. Get you pregnant again within hours. Keep the cycle going."
The breeding talk affected me even after six weeks of bonded life, eliciting a sharp, reflexive contraction around his fingers involuntarily.
"Let's go home," I said, voice rougher than intended. "I need you."
He smiled, knowing exactly what I meant. "We just bred this morning."
"I know. I need you again anyway."
That was the bond's constant influence, creating perpetual need. I'd adapted to it. Accepted it completely. Wanted it.
We flew home together—him carrying me carefully, wings spread wide, both of us anticipating what came next.
Back at The Eyrie, we bred in the main chamber.
Not the slow, careful breeding of recovery. Not the desperate breeding that came after combat. Just routine breeding. Daily. Necessary. Normal for bonded life.
He arranged me on the bedding, spread my legs efficiently, pushed inside without preamble or extended preparation. We both sighed at the connection, at the rightness of it.
"Every day," he said, thrusting steadily. "For the rest of your life. You'll need this every single day."
"I know."
"Multiple times most days. Your body craves it constantly. Craves me."
"Yes." My heels locked at the small of his back, pulling him deeper. "I crave you. Always."
He stimulated the nerve cluster while he bred me, dual stimulation that made me come within minutes. He followed immediately, knot swelling and locking us together completely.
We stayed knotted for twenty minutes. Just existing together. Connected. Content. This was life now—hunting, breeding, defending, building. Simple in its brutality. Perfect in its clarity.
Day twenty-three arrived and I noticed the first change.
My teeth felt wrong when I woke. Not painful exactly. Just... different. Sharper somehow. I ran my tongue along them carefully and found points that hadn't been there before. Canines slightly more pronounced. Incisors with edges they'd lacked yesterday.
I showed Drav immediately. "Is this normal?"
He examined my mouth carefully, looking closely at the changes. "Yes. Early adaptation stage. Your body's adjusting to the diet here, which is meat-based and requires different tooth structure." He pulled back. "It's minor. You won't look dramatically different to anyone observing. Just functionally improved for this world."
"What else will change?"
"Hearing will sharpen. Vision will improve in low light. Skin tone will shift in some areas." He stroked my belly gently. "Small things. The major transformation doesn't happen until after you choose to stay permanently. But your body's preparing anyway, adapting to make this world easier to survive in."
