I swallow, not sure how to properly answer him. I have doubts. But all those doubts are based on human experiences. And Rynn isn't human.
I want to believe him.
I want to believe himso fucking bad.
"Zahreenah," he breathes out when I take too long to answer. He bends forward, gently resting his forehead on mine and closing his eyes. "I will doanythingto keep you," he whispers and something inside me jolts. Isn't that what I've always longed for? My own damn mother practically threw me away like yesterday's trash. Men before Rynn have always wanted me only for as long as I entertain them in the bedroom, but never longer. And I was fine with that. But I've never felt aswantedas Rynn makes me feel.
I stare hard at his heart-stars as though watching them long enough would reveal any lie they might hold.
"Tell me what I must do to keep you, little-light?"
What must he do? What does he mean? God, I don't know. Does he seriously want an answer to that? No one has ever bothered sticking around for me, let alone for me to ask any other demands of them. Rynn's eyes open and whatever he sees in my face makes him change tact, like he's just realized the tension in this little star-flecked feathery world he's created is too heavy.
"My people-" he pauses and swallows thickly. "The other males. They wish to know how to impress a female of their own. I told them I would ask you."
It's not what he meant, I know that, but being the coward that I am, I take the way out he throws me and choose levity over honesty. "That thing you did with your mouth last night is a good start," I tell him, smiling and tapping my finger on his lips. "Ladies are always impressed by a guy who does that so enthusiastically."
Rynn holds me tighter, his turquoise eyes honed in on my mouth now. "I will tell the tribe they must learn these skills," he says distantly.
I laugh, ready to tell him it's not as easy as all that when our private little bubble abruptly pops. "High Spear," Someone - a Trixikka male says from the world outside my guy's wings. Rynn growls before he straightens and folds his feathers back behind himself. The Trixikka male looks warily at us both before clearing his throat and continuing with his report. "The tribe is ready to travel to the Temple at your request, High Spear."
***
Apparently, this temple business is a big deal to the Trixikka. Rynn had explained as he flew me from the village site to where the odd white egg lay nestled into the foot of the mountain. They believe that all good fortune happens because of the deities that they think are inside. And maybe they're right. What do I know? I've never been particularly religious or felt the presence of any kind of God. If I ever had, I'd probably get mad and ask them 'Why?'
But I'm not about to shit on anyone else's faith just becauseIthink the weird spaceship-looking thing is sketchy as hell.
Every one of Rynn's tribe and the human girls are gathered here and Rynn stands proud at the center of it. He insists that I stand here right beside him, too. "My people!" he says, his voice booming, causing a hush to settle over the group. His wings flair wide behind us both and it's so easy to just sense the beautiful power in them without even glancing over my shoulder. He grips my hand in his larger, warmer one, addressing everyone else, but I know he's so keenly aware of me standing beside him, just as I could never deny his presence either. Forget worshiping whatever lies beyond the temple walls - my Rynn makes my blood sing. All I need is him. "Protectors, care-givers, hunters, healers, craftsmales, and of course-'' he pauses to bow his head at Alana, Chastity, and Bea, "- precious females." All the while, his tail cords around my knee for everyone to see. I find I don't really care. "This day, we must give thanks to the Goddesses for the bountiful blessings they have gifted to us. Please, bring forth your offerings."
One-by-one, the Trixikka bring forward collections of those beautiful opal-like 'life-stones', soft animal hides, cured meat, and those seed pots they're so fond of. I don't miss the way one or two of the males eye the women when carrying their jars of the sparkly stuff, as if debating on whether they want to lay their offering in the hollow that's appeared in the side of the temple, or at the feet of one of the girls.
Mavyx, standing beside Rynn as his Second Spear clears his throat, prompting the males to scurry up and present their 'jizz pot' to the temple instead. One of the girls stifles a giggle and I just know without looking that it's Chastity. Mavyx leans in to murmur to Rynn. "The offerings are not as bountiful as usual."
"The offerings are fine," Rynn dismisses under his breath, tightening his grip on me with both hand and tail. There's a tension there, but I'm not sure what that's all about.
The spinning, floating orb comes out from another recently appeared hollow in the side of the temple and hovers a good eight feet off the ground. "Thank you, Trixikka, for your offerings this day," a monotone, female voice says, the ball glowing brightly in time with the words. The crowd of Trixikka duck their heads in reverence and, inexplicably, I find myself doing the same. I might have issues believing in a higher power, but I can see why the Trixikka would look at this...thingin awe and treat it with respect. And... Well, I don't want to offend them.
I jolt when the whole tribe chants as one, "she will be protected!" Rynn peers at me from the corner of his eye as he straightens from his bow.
"Those of you who have made a seed-offering in the past few ceremonies, please come forward," he says, addressing the crowd again. A group of around fifteen males line up and I watch in fascination as they take turns to press their hands to the small black patch on the wall of the temple. Some of them seem torn between throwing longing glances at the girls as they wait, and concentrating on the temple before them. All of them are nervous as hell when it's their turn to step up and offer their palm, though. I hold my breath with each of them, though I'm not sure what for. Rynn says that sometimes, the tribe is blessed with a new son at these ceremonies. But I'll believe it when I see it.
"What happens to the baby girls?" I ask Rynn once the ceremony is over. The skies are turning heavy and gray as the Trixikka continue to leave the little clearing on wing. A few of the larger of Rynn's Protectors almost square off with each other for the privilege to carry a woman back to the village, but one barked command from their High Spear and they fall in line.
"They remain within the temple, with the other females," he answers, then jerks his chin toward one of the older Trixikka, a man with a pleasant smile who although his role is clearly that of a carer, was still built solidly with muscle, like all members of the tribe. Perhaps he was once one of the fierce Protectors when he was a younger male? Now, he re-braids a young boy's long hair to keep it from his eyes when they fly back home. "You see the golden bands he wears on his tail?" My eyes drop and I see two thick cuffs around the middle of the man's tail. "They are each for a daughter he has fathered and will never hold. As well as wearing a daughter-band, fathers of female younglings will provide more food to the temple to nourish their daughter's bellies, and clip their flight feathers when they first learn of their births."
"Clip their flight feathers?"
"Yes," he nods, a rumble of thunder splitting the sky above us. "So that we are reminded of the sins of our ancestors. We - " Rynn pauses and frowns to himself, ruffling one of those massive hands of his through his hair. "We promised to never again clip a female's wings," he says, his voice rushing out with a huff. "And so we ground ourselves instead. The feathers grow back, but we do this to honor our daughters."
Something melancholic shadows his expression and I have to ask. "Do...youhave a daughter in there?" Something that suspiciously tastes like jealousy rises at the thought, which is so utterly stupid and selfish of me, I know, but I can't help it. Rynn has had a life before me, just like I have, I have to remind myself. And even if he does have a daughter behind those temple walls, she's not a result of a relationship. I know all of this, but it doesn't stop the twisty-feeling low in my belly.
One corner of his mouth twists up in a mirthless grin. "Do I wear a daughter-band, mate?" His tail flicks around in front of my face, the soft black tuft on the tip tickling my nose until I'm forced to huff and push it away. He laughs. It's a soft sound that speaks of other things on his mind. I want to know what those other things are, but before I can ask, another roll of thunder seems to rumble from directly above us. It's so loud, I feel it in my gut, and the heavens open, the heavy skies finally bursting.
I yelp at the sudden downpour, moving to cling to Rynn, hooking my arms around his toned waist. The fat raindrops are almost warm but they're coming down at a phenomenal rate. I guess I shouldn't be surprised; we are in the middle of a rainforest, after all. "We should go back to the village," I squeak.
"You do not like the rains?" he asks, angling his big, inky wing to be used as my own personal umbrella. It's surprisingly effective too. The droplets just roll right off his feathers.
"Do you?!"
