That's all that matters.
Chapter 32
Feray
Khal returnsseveral hours later and drops another dead deer on the porch of the alpha house. The scent of blood looms in the air, making my stomach growl.
Torben leaves the sitting room and drags the body back to where we're settled. We found a room with a functional fireplace, and I'm camped out in front of it, watching Easton's chick hop around.
He's the size of my fist, covered in downy fluff that shifts between sunset orange and deep crimson depending on how the firelight catches him. His eyes—those are unmistakably Easton's. Warm amber with flecks of gold, ancient and knowing despite the tiny body that houses them. When he looks at me, I see my mate staring back, trapped in this fragile form.
In the bond, I can feel Easton's love for me. He worries about whether I'm alright with what happened.
"I'm sorry I didn't move faster. The vampire—he had a power. He slowed time." My bottom lip quivers as I fight the tears, still blaming myself for his death.
The chick stops his hopping and tilts his head, watching me with those too-knowing eyes. A soft, mournful chirp escapes his tiny beak—a sound that holds centuries of understanding in its simplicity.
The only other vampire I've ever interacted with is Dezi. I've seen the bloodlust in his eyes when I cut myself. Even when the hunger rose, he had control.
These vampires were feral. Lost to their hunger.
I stare at my mate's chick, feeling inadequate and guilty. I couldn't get to him, and I'm supposed to be some great Luna. How can I protect a pack when I couldn't protect my own mate?
"Little wolf, he wouldn't want you blaming yourself. He's alive, and now you get to protect him for a while." Torben shifts a finger to a claw and slices meat from the hindquarter. "Make sure you eat, too."
He presses a kiss to my temple, then sits back, cutting a piece for himself and watching over us.
"Where's Diaval and Khal?" I glance over my shoulder.
"Diaval went hunting for himself. Khal ate and is watching over the house."
Reaching into my bag, I pull out a knife and cut ribbons of meat free to feed Easton. Raising a slice, I offer it to his chick.
He chirps excitedly, his tiny wings fluttering in a blur of orange and gold. His beak snaps open—wider than should be possible for something so small—and he gobbles down the offered food with the enthusiasm of a creature ten times his size.
Feeding Easton's chick is a comedy of errors as he almost bites my fingers, overeager to eat. Giggles escape my lips as I watch him bounce on spindly legs that seem too long for his round body, trying to snatch the next ribbon from me.
"Silly chick!" I waggle my finger in his direction.
He stops and tilts his little fluffy head, ruffling his down indignantly. Then he squawks at me in protest—a sound that's half-adorable, half-offended royalty.
Something warm unfurls in my chest. Even as a hatchling, he's still Easton. Still indignant. Still mine.
I keep feeding him until I see his crop is full and distended, a visible bulge beneath his fluffy chest. He waddles—there's no other word for it—over to my sweatshirt on the floor and climbs in, his tiny talons catching on the fabric as he burrows deep into the sleeve. Within moments, soft peeping snores escape from the bundle.
My eyes move over his little body, and I use the sleeve to cover him. The rise and fall of his breathing is hypnotic. My mate. My ancient, powerful phoenix. Sleeping in my dirty sweatshirt like it's the safest place in the world.
My heart cracks and heals simultaneously.
"You're going to make a wonderful mom when you're ready." Torben says with an easy smile.
"Fi's mom was great. She never made me feel as though I wasn't hers." I shake my head and swipe the rogue tear from my eye. "Do you know our birthdays are two days apart?"
Smiling fondly, I think about the joint birthday parties we had on the day between us. On the actual day we were born, Fi's mom would make our favorite meal for dinner.
"I didn't know that." Torben scoots closer and pulls me to him. His thick arms wrap around me, and I feel his heart thudding in his chest.
"Yeah, I'm the eighteenth and she's the twentieth."
