14. Bronwyn

14

brONWYN

I can't sleep. The soft rustle of leaves and the gentle chirping of unfamiliar nocturnal creatures keep my senses on high alert. It's not danger that keeps me awake, but out of habit. I don't know what it's like to relax.

I sit up, careful not to disturb the others, and make my way to the dying embers of our campfire. The warm glow casts flickering shadows across the clearing. I hug my knees to my chest, lost in thought, when a soft rustling catches my attention.

Zyx appears, his wings folded neatly behind him, concern etched on his face. And in my raw state, I ache for him. Gods, I've never wanted anyone the way I want him.

"Can't sleep?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

I shake my head. "Too much on my mind."

He settles beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the embers pulse with fading light.

"Tell me about it," Zyx says softly, his silver eyes reflecting the orange glow.

I take a deep breath, memories of Earth flooding back. "It's hard for me to relax enough to sleep." Except for the night I was in his bed, but I keep that to myself. "Earth was…it taught me to keep my guard up."

"That sounds awful." But thankfully, there's no pity in his voice.

"It was... hell," I answer, my voice barely above a whisper. "The orcs came years before I was born. They destroyed everything, killed almost everyone." I sigh. "I hear that my planet used to be lovely, full of life and technology, but I grew up in ruins and destruction."

Zyx's wing twitches, as if he wants to wrap it around me. Fuck, I want him to. So much.

Instead, I continue, the words spilling out. "I lost my parents when I was little. A group of survivors took me in, taught me how to stay alive. We were always on the move, always hungry, always scared."

I describe the ruined cities, once bustling metropolises reduced to crumbling concrete and rusted metal. The constant fear of orc patrols, the desperate scavenging for food and supplies. The harsh winters where we huddled together for warmth, praying we'd see another spring.

The way the orcs kidnapped and raped and killed.

I tell him about learning to use plants for medicine, about the small victories that kept us going. My voice cracks as I recount close calls and lost friends.

"Every day was a fight for survival," I say, staring into the dying embers. "We'd scavenge through ruins, always looking over our shoulders. The orcs... they were relentless."

I describe the constant hunger that gnawed at our stomachs, the bone-deep exhaustion from endless nights on watch. My fingers absently trace the scar on my cheek as I speak of close calls and narrow escapes.

"The worst part wasn't the physical danger," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "It was watching hope die in people's eyes. Seeing them give up, knowing there was nothing I could do."

Zyx's hand tightens around mine, grounding me in the present. I glance up, seeing the pain reflected in his silver eyes. It's almost too much to bear.

"We lost so many," I continue, the words catching in my throat. "Not just to the orcs, but to despair, to sickness we couldn't treat. Every death felt like a personal failure."

I tell him about the crushing weight of responsibility, of being the one people turned to for healing when our supplies dwindled to nothing. The guilt of rationing medicine, of having to choose who lived and who suffered.

"But somehow, we kept going," I say, a hint of wonder in my voice. "We'd find a patch of edible plants, or stumble upon an untouched cache of supplies. It was just enough to keep that tiny spark of hope alive."

Zyx listens intently, his wing now curved protectively around me. I lean into his warmth, drawing strength from his presence as I bare my soul.

I pause, my throat tight with emotion. The weight of my memories hangs heavy in the air between us. Zyx shifts closer, his presence a comforting warmth at my side. I can feel the tension in his body, as if he's holding himself back from something.

"There was this little girl," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "Sarah. She'd lost everyone, just like me. I... I promised I'd keep her safe."

The words catch in my throat, and I feel Zyx's arm tentatively wrap around my shoulders. His touch is gentle, almost reverent. I lean into him, seeking solace in his embrace.

"We were ambushed," I continue, the painful memory flooding back. "I tried to protect her, but..."

I can't finish the sentence. Tears I've held back for years finally spill over. Zyx pulls me closer, his wing curling around us both like a protective cocoon. I bury my face in his chest, letting out quiet, wracking sobs.

I've never let the grief out. It's just been tucked away, festering, threatening to overcome me.

And now…now it needs to heal.

His hand moves in soothing circles on my back. I can feel the steady beat of his heart, grounding me in the present. The scent of pine and something uniquely Zyx surrounds me, a stark contrast to the acrid memories of smoke and blood.

"I'm so sorry, Bronwyn," he murmurs, his breath warm against my hair. "You carried so much for so long."

I nod against his chest, unable to speak. We stay like that for a long moment, my tears slowly subsiding. I should feel vulnerable, exposed. Instead, I feel safe for the first time in years.

I take a shaky breath, wiping the last of my tears away with the back of my hand. The weight of my past, a burden I've carried for so long, feels lighter now. I've never shared so much of myself with anyone before, and the vulnerability is both terrifying and exhilarating.

I look up at Zyx, my heart skipping a beat as our eyes meet. His silver gaze holds mine, filled with a depth of understanding that takes my breath away. There's no pity there, no judgment - just acceptance and... something more. Something that makes my pulse quicken.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice hoarse from crying. "For listening. For understanding."

Zyx's wing tightens around me, a comforting cocoon of warmth and safety. His hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining as if they were made to fit together.

"You're incredible, Bronwyn," he says, his voice low and intense. "Your strength, your resilience... I've never met anyone like you."

A warmth blooms in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. For the first time in years, I feel truly seen. Not as a survivor, not as a healer, but as me - Bronwyn, with all my scars and struggles and hopes.

The admiration in Zyx's eyes makes me feel beautiful, powerful. It's as if he can see past the hardened exterior I've built up over years of survival, right to the core of who I am. And instead of being repelled by what he finds there, he's drawn to it.

I lean into him, savoring the feeling of safety and acceptance. The horrors of my past seem distant now, overshadowed by the warmth of this moment. Here, in Zyx's arms, I feel like I've finally found a place where I belong.

I look up at Zyx, my heart racing. The thought of being alone with my memories terrifies me more than any orc ever did. "Will you... stay with me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Zyx's silver eyes soften, and he nods. "Of course," he murmurs.

I can't help but think how his presence seems to chase away the darkness of my past. Just for tonight, I'll give in to this comfort. I'll allow myself this moment of peace.

"I'll keep you safe, Bronwyn," Zyx promises, his words wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "We should get some sleep."

I let him help me to my feet, already feeling more tired than before now that he's chased away the memories that plague me. He moves to pull our bedrolls together, and I watch, his movements always so fluid.

It makes me wonder in what other ways he can move so well…

When he's done, he turns to me, opening his arms in invitation. I don't hesitate, sliding into his embrace as if I've done it a thousand times before.

Zyx pulls me against him, and I sink into his warmth. His body is solid and strong, a stark contrast to the harsh, unforgiving world I've known. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek, a soothing rhythm that slowly begins to quiet the chaos in my mind.

His wing unfurls, draping over us both like a living blanket. The soft membrane is surprisingly warm, and I want to reach up and touch them. But I hold back.

As sleep begins to claim me, I burrow deeper into Zyx's embrace. His scent surrounds me, like the soft spring rain. It's intoxicating, and I find myself breathing it in deeply, committing it to memory.

My last coherent thought before drifting off is that I never want to give this up. This feeling of safety, of belonging, of being truly seen and accepted. For the first time in years, I fall asleep without fear, wrapped in Zyx's protective embrace.