Episode Forty-Seven Story of Loss

T hallose

The fire has burned down and needs more logs. After making quick work of that, I lie just as I awoke, my front to her back.

Although I tell my body to stand down, my cock is hard as stone. It's just that I've craved this since the moment after I botched things with her that first night. I hate to admit, even to myself, how jealous I've been as I watch the obvious joy and pleasure the three of them share every night as they experiment with every delicious, vulgar way three people can come together,

After a long debate with myself, I decide in favor of wrapping my little mate in my wing. It's downy and warm and covers her more softly than any pelt in all the land. Canting my hips back so my cock doesn't intrude on her, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to be in her good graces.

As I breathe in her intoxicating scent, I picture the way she gazes at her other two mates and allow myself to imagine her looking at me like that. Wouldn't it be glorious to be on the receiving end of those adoring looks and appreciative smiles?

"Thanks," she says. "I was freezing."

My eyes fly wide as I stop dead, afraid to move a muscle. She's awake and knows I'm right here, less than a whisper away. For a moment, I decide not to say anything. It would be safer to pretend I'm deeply asleep.

But I can't. I've never been a coward and I won't start now.

"I wanted to keep you warm."

"Well… thanks."

I can't let this opportunity pass me by. For the first time since my mating bite, she seems willing to talk to me.

"The males told me what it was like for you Up Above," I blurt, not knowing a better way to start this conversation. "It makes me proud of you. Helps me understand how strong and courageous you are."

Pausing, I wait for a comment. Silence. Perhaps she fell asleep, but I decide to forge ahead, anyway.

"Mayhap I could tell you about me."

Just when I decide she doesn't want to hear another word out of my mouth, she says, "If you insist."

Not exactly a generous invitation, but it's an opening.

Nadira

I'm cold and tired and scared of sleeping outdoors. The last thing I want is to hear Thallose's life story, but we're going to be together for the next several days. The less awkward things are between us, the better the trip will be for both of us. He wants to talk? I'll listen. I'm facing away from him so I can roll my eyes as much as I want.

"There were few of my kind on the planet. I remember my father telling me that. He had theories about how all the species came to be. I'm sure you've heard rumors Up Above. We have plenty of them Down Below."

Although I was curious, I never heard rumors. Whenever my father's cronies got close to talking about the origins of the monsters Down Below, one of them would clear his throat and then change the subject. All references to it were scrubbed from the Internet despite my dedicated attempts to find information.

Thallose pauses as he tucks his wing around me in a way that does an even better job of keeping the cold out. I may not like him, but his wing is the softest thing I've ever felt. It's like being surrounded by a feathery cloud. It takes effort not to shimmy closer, but I remind myself we're not lovers, not even friends—and we never will be.

"My father said when he was young, the sky would sometimes fill with flocks of starflyers, but in my lifetime, I never saw another of my kind. Just my parents and my younger sister, Kasseda. She had a coal black coat and hair as white as mine. She was beautiful. Striking."

His voice is sad, wistful.

"I was maybe fifteen when the hovers came. I was supposed to be hunting in the forest, but I was playing around, running, jumping, and flying through the meadows. When I heard the noise, I didn't know what it was. But somehow you know when a sound is… wrong. It didn't belong."

I can't see his handsome face, but the longer he pauses, the clearer I can picture how sad he is. I even imagine his golden eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, but hadn't arrived back to our little hut when I heard another strange sound."

He shivers and I have an odd urge to turn in his arms and touch his cheek. I don't.

"By the time I reached the clearing surrounding my hut, three human men were dragging my sister into their hover. She was young, barely more than a foal, and no match in strength to them."

He pauses, still as a statue against my back. I imagine he's reliving every detail of those moments. I don't know whether to interrupt with a question so he can escape the dark place his mind has retreated to, or stay silent. Finally, he continues.

"I've relived it a thousand times. No. Probably more. I wonder what would have happened if I'd flown home instead of running. What if I hadn't paused there at the edge of the forest?"

As he pauses to take a deep breath, I'm certain he's reliving it again.

"As I watched, figuring out what to do, if I should use my bow and arrows or charge at them, they yanked her into the flying machine and flew away. I was no match for the power of that hover. Flying my fastest, I could never catch it in a million years."

He scoots closer, then must think better of it, because he backs even farther away.

"When I took my eyes off the retreating machine in the sky, I saw my mother and father lying dead on the ground. You've never hunted, but I can tell you that sometimes you come upon an animal and although it's still as stone, you're not certain if it's dead or not. At other times, there is no mistaking that the animal is gone."

Although I don't turn around, I reach behind me, grab his arm and pull it around me to stroke it, lending my support for what I imagine is coming next.

"My mom and dad were that second kind of dead. Obviously dead. Broken and bloody and never ever going to come back to life."

I'm not sure he realizes what he's doing when his arm, already around my waist from where I pulled it there, tucks me tighter.

"Do you know how many times I've wondered what would have happened if I'd just done something? I've imagined it a thousand ways…"

I say nothing, just keep stroking his muscled arm.

He swallows, then says, "Humans. They took my family from me. But they stole something even worse than that."

When he pauses, I realize he wants me to ask.

"What?"

"Myself. I should have been able to save them. Should have been able to save all three of them. I've never forgiven myself."

It's obvious he's spiraled into the sad, dark place where his thoughts get caught in a circle.

For a moment, I don't know how to help him see the reality that he was too far away, too young, and too inexperienced to be able to do what even his parents couldn't.

"Tell me, Thallose. In any of those imaginary scenarios, did you succeed in saving your parents? Manage to rescue Kasseda?" I ask, because in my mind's eye, there was nothing he could have done differently other than get himself killed.

"No," he says starkly.

"So neither charging at three grown men holding lasers or shooting them with bow and arrows would have saved her?"

"No," his voice is hollow.

"You couldn't have saved your parents?" I push, but I want him to see the reality, to affirm it out loud.

"No."

"That's right. You've played and replayed it a thousand times, but not once did the outcome change because there was nothing you could do to save them. Absolutely nothing."

I thread my fingers through his.

"But you can help save people now," I say quietly.