And if I am pregnant, how are they going to react to-
No. No, I don't have to think of that because it's not gonna happen. My mind stupidly goes to Mavyx. How would that feather-brained caveman react if I've got a bun in the oven? I shake my head. Why the hell should I care? I think some of that fermented drink went to my head. Oh, God, should I have even drunk any of that if I'm- if there's a chance I'm-
I can feel myself spiraling. Both Bea and Chastity are on their own nest, settling in with their backs to me. I could join them. I could pour my heart and my worries out to them right now. We're in this together, us girls, right? Taking a single step toward them, I hesitate. It would be a good idea, I think; to lighten the load. Unburden my troubles. Serena knows, but she's all busy and loved up with her mate and -
My stomach churns. The way my mind so easily accepted the term'mate', like it's normal - like part of me agrees that super-special bird-man sparkles mean anything. My lip curls in disgust and I find myself backing away and walking straight out of the hut into the night. Oddly enough, there's no guard, it doesn't matter though, I've got nowhere to go anyway. I just stand there and stare up at the star-flecked sky, trying to find the brightest one so I don't feel quite so alone. When I find it, I stare and stare until the wet stinging in my eyes gets too much and my lids fall closed with my face still tilted up toward the night.
"I'm scared, Mom,"I whisper up to the star.
CHAPTER 5: MAVYX
I hadn't strayed far from the village when I'd left the young Protector to watch over the females last night. In fact, I had flown barely two laps of the village parameter before giving in to the most infuriating urge to return. Swift and silent, I had landed on the leaf-woven roof, grateful for the wooden frame that can support my weight. Inside, Aloryk had successfully infiltrated the small group of females. They were laughing and talking freely. I do not know what his purpose is with this little tactic of his, but I can guess. It is a clever one, for sure. Befriend the females to learn of their ways, their culture, their likes, and dislikes. Besides, one cannot conquer an opponent effectively without first learning of their character, their strengths... and their weaknesses.
No. The females are not foes to be defeated, I remind myself, shaking my head. Even as I'm reminded of how verbally sparring with Ah-Lanah can cause my pulse to surge in ways I've only ever felt when in my blood-lust. It is a different sort of battle. And one I think I have already lost.
So yes,befriendingthe females before even a flash of the cursed heart-stars appears is probably a wise maneuver on Aloryk's part. But I am soon shocked to hear that he does not seek matehood with either the brash-talking Chaz-Titi, nor the small, timid one, Bea. He sees a mishi-flower-colored female in his dreams and claims this imaginary female as his own instead. I let out a quiet snort when hearing this. Even females who have not yet been given to us are making fools of my tribe. No matter. Let him have his dream female with the strange hair. It means nothing. I know my dreams have been plagued ever since I found Ah-Lanah unconscious in the deep thick forest, her limp body laying over twisted roots awkwardly. Sometimes in my dreams she stays sleeping, and I spend what feels like many seasons in one dream, mourning her. Only for her body to suddenly bolt upright and her eyes to be wide and unblinking. She stares at me and then she screams my name in terror. She screams and screams and screams until I wake, panting in my nest, beads of sweat rolling down my chest and my heart-stars flashing manically like they are screaming too.
Not all of my dreams are as frightful as this. Some have her reaching for me. Some have her calling my name in a way that makes my cock stiffen in my loincloth. Some have me filling my hands with those curious swellings on her chest or nipping at her tantalizingly tailless rump.
I do not know which type of dream is worse.
When I overhear her showing something to Aloryk - an etching on her skin. I am chagrined to admit I am curious and find myself leaning down to peek through the opening of the hut doorway. If any of my men catch me as I am now, I will threaten them with a particularly arduous sparring lesson as soon as the first of the twin suns crest the horizon. But here I am - a fool spying on a female who does not want me.
Ah-Lanah is rolling up her brightly colored arm-covering, revealing a patch of skin I so rarely see. There, on the inside - a piece of flesh normally tucked into her side, is a beautiful shape. It is a star. A little differently to how I have seen the likeness etched on the Mother Cave walls, but it is a star nonetheless. The reach of its depicted shine is long, with elegant spokes reaching down to the inside of her elbow. Ah-Lanah allows the young Protector a look at her skin-etching before quickly covering it back up. "It's called a tattoo. Humans get them for all kinds of reasons."
What is the reason for your little star?I itch to ask her this question and more as I right myself on the roof and stare up at the night sky. My High Spear explained to us that the females come from up there - from a place so high that no Trixikka could ever reach it on the wing. The thought makes me feel small - and being a large, capable male, it is not a feeling I am comfortable with.
Fool. I am such a fool. Why have the Goddesses burdened me with this curse I never wished for?
I spend the rest of the night perched upon the hut, listening to the females tell tales of things I cannot fathom. Even when Aloryk leaves, I give a short, sharp whistle for his attention, jerking my chin when our eyes meet to indicate that there is no need for him to find a replacement Protector to watch over the females. He blinks at me up here on the roof and then quickly nods, turning away. I do not miss the hint of a smirk playing on his lips though.
No matter, I will wipe that smile from his face tomorrow at training. For now, I settle in on my unusual perch, laying with my back to the many-pronged leaves, my wings outstretched beneath me as I watch the stars. There are low murmurings of the females below. They ready themselves to nest down for the night and the laughter and merriment Aloryk's presence had inspired dulls. I wonder at that for a moment. They seemed to tolerate - if not downrightenjoy- his company. Even the little quiet one did not mind it. And why not? Aloryk is well-liked in the tribe. He does not possess a serious feather on either wing, and he does not ever let anything sour his mood. Is this what females want? Is this what my Ah-la-
My mind spits a string of curses at itself. She is notmine, and it does not matter what she wants. She can laugh and joke and show her precious skin-etching to all the males of the tribe and it means nothing, because she is not mine.
Not mine.
Not mine.
Not mine.
And that is the way that I want it. It is just these cursed heart-stars meddling with my head. I find myself rubbing at my illuminated chest with the heel of my hand hard enough to inspire discomfort. I'm just getting caught up in wishes of being able to scrub the lights from my heart when the very object of my ire wanders out of the hut alone.
What is she doing now? I fight the urge to drop down behind her with my large wingspan spread wide. I know it would scare her and she'd give me shit for it. I think I'd enjoy that.
But I don't.
Something about the way she carries herself makes me pause. Ah-Lanah is normally a headstrong female of fire and strength. Qualities that are as incredibly infuriating as they are alluring.ThisAh-Lanah's shoulders wear a slight sag and her wandering pace is slow and without purpose. Ah-Lanahalwayshas purpose - even when that purpose seems to be irritating me.
On silent wings I leap to the next hut, following her in the darkness. She does not go far. She knows there is nowhere for hertogo. But she stops toward the outer-edge of the village, away from any fire. She stops, and she looks up into the dark night sky for a long, long time, like she's searching for something up there. It makes me think of her homelands and what she may have left behind.Whoshe may have left behind. It never crossed my mind before but... had the Goddesses of her world given her to a different mate? One she longs for even now? The thought lances straight through me like the sharpest of spears.
My Trixikka instincts scream at me to fly to that far, far away place beyond the stars and gut the male she pines for. Would I do that if I could reach him? I think I would. I'm reminded of one of many ancient etchings high up in the Mother Caves. It depicts a male skewering another like he were a frizikki being prepared for the spit. The story goes that the unfortunate male's heart-stars ignited for a female whom the victorious male already loved. Jealousy, rage, and a sense of possession I never fully understood drove him to blood-lust for one of his brothers. I remember seeing it for the first time as a youngling and wondering how a female - ofallthings - could inspire such a crime against tribe and Temple.
Now I know.
It would hurt her, though,I think, starting to second-guess myself. It would hurt her heart if I-
I'd been too lost in my rage at a far, far away male who may not even exist to notice, but Ah-Lanah is... she is...crying. If I thought I knew pain before, I had been wrong. My hands grip the lip of the roof I'm currently perched upon so tightly, I hear the groan of the wooden frame.
