GWEN

The loss of the sunflowers means I'll have nothing to feed my birds in the fall, and the seed I have is nearly gone. Once we finish talking to Andrea, instead of heading to my room and checking in on my sister, I head to my birds instead.

Cowardly? Maybe. But I know Daniela won't be happy with me for what she'll perceive as abandonment. Andrea's frustrated with me for not sealing the deal with Vaan, when I know she would have cheerfully jumped into his arms if he'd chosen her that fateful night. I know I'm supposed to be helping the fort by sacrificing myself, but…it's not quite that easy. Vaan's struggling, too, because he needs a mate and I'm dragging my feet.

Really, I'm not making anyone happy right now, and I feel it rather acutely. Time's up, and I need to make decisions and move ahead with my life—in all matters. That means making choices even when they're difficult ones.

Mara left with Andi and Liam, so I'm alone with Vaan as I head to the room that houses my birds. I smell them—hard not to smell the acrid bird poop that pervades their room, but it's kind of comforting to me. Makes things feel like home, in an odd sense. Not because I love the poop, but because it signifies routine to me, a return to normalcy.

Normalcy might be the most underrated thing in the world. I'd love a nice, mundane life.

The soft cooing of my doves sounds musical in the quiet of the room. I light a candle and head in to the darkness, and the birds flutter around in their cage, moving toward the door. They expect food, and I don't have much to give. Vaan looks at me curiously, waiting to see what I'm up to.

I set the candle down and open the cage, reaching for the closest bird. They're so tame that they sit patiently while I touch them, stroking the soft feathers and then pulling one out and tucking him against my shirt. He's unoriginally named Petey, and he's secretly my favorite. I tried not to name them since they're supposed to be useful only, and pets are a bad call when daily life is a struggle but…his name is Petey and he's the smartest of all of them, and the tamest.

And I'm terribly, terribly attached.

I stroke Petey's head and glance at Vaan. "These are my birds. I raised them ever since they were little and just barely out of the nest. I know what I have to do and yet I'm stalling, because the thought makes me heartsick. When I started taming the birds, it was just with the idea that they'd carry messages for us, the start of a possible carrier pigeon network for long-distance communication. I expected a lot of them to never come back. I expected to have to release them one day. I just didn't want it to be today.”

Vaan's watching me with an odd look on his face.

I hold the bird out to him, my hands carefully clasped around it to prevent Petey from flying away. "You can touch him. It's all right." I know from experience that Vaan can be amazingly gentle despite the size of his hands.

He carefully takes the bird from my hands and holds it awkwardly. The dove coos with contentment, used to being handled, and Vaan gives me another look. It's clear he doesn't quite know what to do with it and is waiting for a cue from me. When I smile encouragingly, he raises it toward his mouth and bares his fangs, about to bite down on the small head. Then, he looks at me.

Eeep. "No! Not a snack!" I shake my head and reach out, petting Petey's tiny head. "Just pet."

Vaan makes a disgruntled sound and watches me.

"I know," I tell him in a low voice. "Pets are stupid when food's at a premium. It's just…I've lost so much already, you know? They don't judge me." I think of the disappointment in Andrea's face when she realized Vaan and I weren't mated. I know she thinks I'm squandering the opportunity. I can't imagine what Daniela's going to tell me, but I know it's going to be full of anger and even more disappointment. "Birds are easy. They love me just because I bring food. And if I let them go, I worry they won't survive because they're tame…but I can't keep them. I don't have the supplies."

In a way, the birds remind me of the people at Fort Shreveport. Didn't we set off from Fort Tulsa declaring that we'd make our own fort and be safe? Didn't I promise everyone that we could do this on our own? Look at how terrible I've been at leadership.

Vaan moves to put the bird back in the cage and I open the door for him. He releases it back inside, and I move to close the cage…and then think better of it and leave the door wide open. I move to one of the metal-covered windows and pry the shutters open. Cool night air wafts in, and I glance back to the cage. The birds just flutter their wings and settle down. They'll probably sit there, waiting for a handout, until they starve.

I sigh. Even when I try to do the right thing, I'm thwarted.

Vaan grabs me and pulls me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin and stroking my hair. For a brief moment, I feel like crying. I cling to him, full of frustration and despair. I know they're just birds. I do. They're symbolic of my good intentions and how fucked up they are, though, and I can't help but think about that, over and over again. I let Vaan hold me and pet my hair, because I've come to really love these impulsive, strange caresses. It's like he knows just when I need to be touched, and it always makes me feel better.

"Thank you," I murmur to him and rest my cheek against his shoulder. "I don't deserve you."

He just caresses my back as I stare at the birds in the cage, waiting for something that'll never come.

VAAN

My Gwen's eyes do not sweat, but I can still sense her unhappiness. Her movements are defeated, even though we are in the hive of her humans, just as she wanted. The tidbits of food she keeps caged she does not eat, and indicates that I should not eat them either. Her thoughts are as much of a mystery as always, but it is clear she is displeased about something.

I try to connect my thoughts with hers, but as always, there is nothing. I bite back my growl of frustration. I can be patient for a bit longer. I can. I push back against the storm clouds that hover at the edge of consciousness. Now is not the time.

Gwen pulls away and smiles up at me. She takes my hand and leads me out of the foul-smelling bird room and farther into the hive, the tiny stick of flame in her free hand. We pass a few people who stare at me, some females with young carried in their arms but no mating scent in their blood. Odd. Perhaps the young in their arms are orphans and the parents have been killed or enslaved. I do not scent many males here, mostly females.

None of them smell half as pleasant as my mate. Her scent is like sweetness itself. The others make my nose twitch and I have to fight the urge to shift forms and chase them off. Only the knowledge that my Gwen would not want that stops me.

We pass down a long, dark hallway and then pause at a door. Different smells assault my senses, but I catch a whiff of Gwen's scent here, faded. Was this her nest before? She snuffs out the tiny flame in her free hand and sets it down on a table outside the door, then gestures for quiet, her finger touching her lips.

I cannot resist touching her; I put my finger on her lips and her eyes are luminous as she looks up at me. The faint scent of her arousal threads through the overwhelming chaos of other scents, and as I gaze down at her, I wonder if she brings me to her nest so we can mate.

Finally.

Pleased, I pull her against me and lock an arm around her waist. I feel the urge to rub my hard cock against her soft belly and show her just how much I want her, but I don't. I know she starts with mouth matings, so I cup her chin with my claws and tilt her face up to mine. "Ksme."

She looks torn, then after a moment, bites her lip. "Ntyt, nthrr," she whispers, glancing around. "Msistrsinsid."

So much babbling of human words. Is she telling me to be gentle with her when I push into her? I will go slow, I promise. I will wait until your cunt is hot with nectar before I take you. This, I promise. You will enjoy it.

Gwen gives me a little smile, pats me on the chest, and then opens the door to her nest. It is a large cave-like room, and across the way, someone sits up in a nest. Another female, with dark skin similar to Gwen's and an unmated scent.

"Gwen?" the female murmurs, and then turns on a small fire beside her bed. The female's gaze moves to me and she gasps, staring at my two-legged form. "Eeznkkid! Whtdefuk!"

"Sokay," Gwen says, leaving me behind and crossing toward the other female. She makes the sniffling sound that indicates her eyes are about to start sweating. "Dnlla! Mstchu!" My mate spreads her arms wide and tries to embrace the other female, only to get pushed away as she leans in.

"Dntwnnatlktu," the other says, looking over at me suspiciously. "Whosee?"

I bare my fangs at this new female. My Gwen certainly collects them, it seems. They crop up everywhere every time we try to be alone.

"Eez Vaan," Gwen says, glancing over at me. "Sadrkn."

"Deneezsenemy," the other declares, lifting her chin. "Ziswhyulftmi? Zisiswrng!" She grabs her coverings and pulls them close to her body, getting out of her nest with great indignation as she begins to babble angry words at my mate far too fast for me to follow. I study the new female, wondering at what angers her so much. Her scent is similar to Gwen's but not nearly as appealing. When she looks over at me, her eyes are full of anger and I notice that her cheeks are not smooth like Gwen's but have great ugly symbols carved on them. She's smaller than Gwen, and in my eyes, less pleasant to look upon and smell.

And she is very, very angry at the sight of me. Her gaze moves over my body, from my horns to my cock and then back up again.

"Andeezgottabonr!" she declares, gesturing at me. "Yuguysrsikk!"

My Gwen wrings her hands and sweat pours from her eyes. She tries to speak to the other female in gentle words, but it is clear the other does not want to hear them. She shakes her head and snaps at my mate, and when Gwen reaches for her, she shrugs her off and storms for the door.

I step in front of it, growling and baring my fangs at the female trying to leave. She cannot go until Gwen says she can.

The female gasps and staggers backward, her fear scent blooming. She lets out a tiny choked scream of terror.

Gwen rushes to her feet. "No, no," she says, over and over again. She moves toward me, her hands on my arms, touching my shoulder, my face. "Sokay, Vaan. Sokay."

The other female looks at my mate with utter frustration. "Urspostukomfortmi!" With another angry snarl, she pushes past Gwen and myself and retreats into the halls of the nest.

Gwen sighs, watching her go, and more sweat streams down her cheeks. "Dnla," she whispers, and then buries her face against my chest, her arms going around me. My displeasure at her sadness wars with the joy I feel that she chooses me over the other. She protected me when the other female approached, which was not necessary, but flattering. She stays with me in my arms when the other leaves.

Even I know a jealous female when I see one, and the one with the scars on her face is jealous. I stroke my Gwen's hair smugly, make comforting rumbling sounds in my chest and wait for her to stop sweating, to compose herself.

We are alone now, though, and this pleases me even more. It is the first time in many days that we have not been surrounded by one strange female or another. I caress Gwen's shoulder, lightly running my claws up and down her delicate neck and into her thick, fragrant hair. "Gwen," I rumble, letting her know I am ready to mate. This is our chance. Our time.

She looks up at me with sad, sad eyes and whispers a flutter of words that mean nothing to me except that my mate is hurting. The other female's retreat has wounded her spirit. My own need dissipates like smoke. This is not a mating time after all. My mate needs comfort and she has turned to me. I pull her toward the nest that retains her old scent and then ease her down onto the coverings. She curls up against me, her breath shuddering, and I hold her close.

Mating can wait. Again. Gwen needs me.