Then there is her touch. It brings me back to myself, like breaking through the surface of riverwaters after being dragged under.
She is here. Her hands are on me - tugging at my arm.
“Zyntarr! Let go!Stop!”
My eye drifts back to the male I am atop.
He is not dead.
Not yet, at least.
I give his throat one last squeeze before releasing and standing up, looming over his limp body, contemplating how I shall finish the task.
“Zyntarr!”
My Bea is still trying to tug me away.
Does she not want me to kill this male? Why?
I curse myself for looking for his heart-stars. Then thank the Goddesses that there are none.
Bea calls my name again, and this time I go with her when she pulls me away.
Bea is here. She is here when she is not meant to be. She is meant to have stayed safe in my hut, to sleep soundly in my nest.
“You nearly killed him!” she says, her voice breathy and her pretty eyes making a map of my face. “He nearly killed you,” she amends. Her little human hands are on me then, flitting like a moonfly’s wings over my bruises and swollen lip.
I grunt and spit some blood off to the side. “He tried.”
That earns me a shove in my chest, right over my healed scars. I rub at the area, not truly hurt, but a little surprised at the reaction.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” Bea snaps.
Do what?I’m about to ask. The fault is hardly mine for the way the male lured me out here and hit me over the head. Andhe touched her- she can hardly expect me not to-
“You left me!”
Ah.
My hand falls away from my chest and my wings sag. “Bea…” I sigh.
“No!” she shoves an angry finger at me. “Don’t you ‘Bea’ me, mister! You can’t just up and leave me. We’re adults. If you genuinely think we weren’t meant for each other, we talk about it and make a decision together!”
I clench my jaw as I watch her, blinking as I take her in. She has come all this way to chastise me, it seems.
So why the fuck is my cock swelling behind my loincloth?
I take a steadying breath. “The Goddesses said-”
“The Goddesses don’t know shit, Zyntarr.”
I-
My twitching tail freezes, but I can feel my skin-stars pulsing all over.
“You cannot mean that.”
“I do,” she says. “If they told you that we’re not mates, then Iabsolutely do.”
