Raptvyn's Rogue

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Raptvyn’s Rogue ISBN 9781419914126 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Raptvyn’s Rogue Copyright © 2007 Kate Hill Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Dan Skinner & Syneca. Electronic book Publication December 2007 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

RAPTVYN’S ROGUE Kate Hill

Kate Hill

Chapter One His wings spread wide, Zamiel soared across the clear summer sky, relishing the caress of the wind and the warmth of the sun. The fresh scent of the forest filled him with every breath. At moments like this, he thoroughly enjoyed his freedom, yet at the same time longed for a companion to share the exhilaration of flight. Lately, the desire for a mate had played on his thoughts more than usual, but he tried to ignore the need. All his life, he’d been a rogue Raptvyn, an outcast among his kind with no flock to call his own. In many ways, he preferred it that way. His kind was often ruthless and flock loyalty a myth. Raptvyns could be nearly as brutal as humans and he had the scars to prove it. He beat his wings hard, speeding across the sky, then swooped low. He continued challenging himself with practice dives until his wings ached and his heart pounded mercilessly in his chest. Making one last dive, he released a piercing cry of pure raptor pleasure and landed in his favorite lake not far from his nest. He broke the surface and changed to his man form. The cool water felt good after a long flight on such a hot day. Smiling, he flipped onto his back and floated, his eyes narrowed against the sun’s glare. After a moment, he swam to shore and stretched out on his back amidst twigs and fallen leaves. It seemed like ages since he’d felt this relaxed. A couple of flocks just over the Canadian border had been battling for territory, so that meant busy season to a talonsfor-hire rogue like Zamiel. He was glad to be back home in the Adirondacks, at least until the next job came along. The caress of the summer breeze, the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional sound of small forest animals going about their business almost lulled him to sleep. In spite of the seemingly peaceful atmosphere, a Raptvyn would be crazy to fall asleep in such a vulnerable position. Some large predators roamed these forests, including other species of shape shifters. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and stood, deciding to hike part of the way home. He kept to the river, since it led directly to the mountain where he nested. Halfway there, his keen raptor vision caught sight of a heap of filthy, matted feathers lying in the mud at the edge of a shallow pool, separate from the main river. A bird that size in these parts had to be a Raptvyn. His brow furrowed, he decided to investigate. Nearing the body, he caught the pungent scent of blood on the wind and also saw he’d been correct. It was a Raptvyn. A male, rather small in stature but gracefully built, and by the look of the gore that practically concealed his dark gold feathers, badly wounded.

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At first glance he appeared dead, but further investigation proved he was merely unconscious and a good thing too. By the look of him, he’d been fighting with another Raptvyn. Oozing gouges from a set of large talons marked his back, arms and chest. One of his eyes had been pecked out and dark blood ran from the socket. This bird needed assistance fast. A trained healer, Zamiel was certain he could help once he got him back to his nest. Within the space of several heartbeats, he extended his arms and changed to his bird form. His mouth and nose shifted to a ferociously curved beak and his arms lengthened and expanded to a pair of enormous wings. Though the rest of his body retained a humanlike appearance, he sprouted a cover of rich brown feathers and his toes and the end of his heel turned to potentially deadly talons. Now those talons wouldn’t be used to kill, but to save a life. He grasped the unconscious Raptvyn by the shoulders, rose into the air and flew as quickly and smoothly as possible to his nest. Zamiel stanched the flow of blood from his charge’s worst injuries. He cleaned, stitched and cauterized, using skills he’d acquired from years of training and experience. The injured Raptvyn didn’t stir as Zamiel worked. Though this made treating the wounds easier, Zamiel hoped he hadn’t sustained serious damage to his head. Such injuries often resulted in death, even under the care of the best healers. He’d heard humans had better luck treating head injuries, but most Raptvyns avoided the human world. On more than one occasion the thought had crossed Zamiel’s mind to spend time among humans, but he’d never had the opportunity. Without backing from a flock that allowed certain members the contacts and means to integrate with humans for the sole purpose of learning, it was impossible for a shape shifter to blend among them. Unless the correct procedure was followed, the risk of exposure was too great. He’d nearly finished with the Raptvyn’s injuries when his unexpected guest stirred. His pain-glazed, blue-gray eye opened slowly and his matted feathers ruffled in fear. “You’re safe here,” Zamiel said. “Can you change to your man form? The shape shifting will stimulate your regenerative powers and speed the healing process.” The injured Raptvyn closed his eye and drew a deep breath that ended in another caw of pain. Impaired breathing made shape shifting difficult. Trembling, he tried again. After several agonizing moments, he changed to his human form and lay panting, his smooth, light gold skin beaded with sweat. Silky ash blond hair clung wetly to his neck and arms. The healing claw marks shone stark red on his chest and arms. Though not tall, he was well built, slender with lithe, defined muscles. Even bruised and half covered in bandages, he was obviously handsome. No. More than handsome. This Raptvyn was exquisitely beautiful, with chiseled cheekbones, a delicate nose and full, pouting lips that just begged to be kissed. Zamiel shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? Not only was this man injured, but he had no idea where he’d come from. He could belong to Zamiel’s

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ancestral flock—the flock that had banished and nearly destroyed him. The flock he hated. After dampening a cloth in a wooden bowl of water, Zamiel bathed the blond’s face. Again that thickly lashed, slanted blue eye opened, this time meeting Zamiel’s gaze. “What’s your name?” Zamiel asked. Best to find out as quickly as possible if the man’s brain had been affected by his injuries. “Arno,” he replied softly. His voice was most pleasant, neither too high nor too deep. “Do you remember what happened to you, Arno?” “I…I was attacked on my way to see a friend.” “Attacked by whom?” “A Raptvyn called Pepik.” Zamiel curled his lip in disgust. “It figures. I know his flock. Not a single member deserves to breathe and it would be my pleasure to kill every last one of them.” He ground his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. After so many years, his hatred should have faded. Instead the older he got, the more it increased. He’d built his entire life on violence and rage. At least that’s what Mitzi told him. Of course, she was always trying to analyze everyone. Glancing at Arno, he noted a hint of fear in his eyes. “What do you have against Pepik’s flock?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” Zamiel growled. Arno nodded slightly and Zamiel noted he was still trembling. He touched an unsteady hand to his eye socket and murmured, “My eye is killing me.” A pang of sympathy shot through Zamiel. Such an unfamiliar sensation. He said in a less abrasive tone, “That’s because it’s gone.” “What’s gone?” Arno glanced at him in terror. “Your eye. It was pecked out.” “Oh gods,” Arno gasped. “Oh fuck. That fucking bastard! I’ll kill him!” In spite of his obvious pain, he tried to stand, but Zamiel forced him down. Not especially difficult considering Arno was quite a bit smaller than Zamiel and his injuries had weakened him greatly. “Calm down. You don’t want to start bleeding again,” Zamiel said. Finally satisfied that Arno’s burst of temper had ended, he turned away and mixed a pain-relieving medicine in a mug of water. He brought it to Arno and supported him with one arm while holding the mug to his lips. “Drink this.” “What is it?” “It’ll deaden the pain.”

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Arno drank deeply then leaned back, his breathing shallow. Rather than letting him go, Zamiel continued holding him. Finally Arno’s eye slipped shut and his trembling ceased. Impulsively, Zamiel lifted a hand and touched the smaller man’s cheek. It felt so smooth against his calloused fingertips. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he stroked Arno’s face with uncharacteristic gentleness. The blond uttered a soft sound and, in his sleep, pressed closer to Zamiel. At that moment, Zamiel realized the turn his thoughts had taken. He was no longer simply a healer with a patient, but a man aroused by a potential lover. This was madness. He knew nothing about Arno, except that he was physically attractive and had a vulnerability that appealed to Zamiel on a primitive level. He stirred similar feelings within him as Mitzi did and he’d been telling himself for ages it would never work with her. Friendship and occasional sex was one thing, but emotional attachment was another. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, have it. Not with Mitzi and certainly not with Arno. Careful not to cause him discomfort, Zamiel moved Arno aside and covered him with a patched blanket. He glanced up the nest’s walls of interwoven branches and leaves to the clear sky. If only he could go on another flight to clear his mind, but Arno wasn’t well enough to be left alone. Several of his injuries were quite serious and would take time to heal, even with the Raptvyn’s superior recuperative powers. Until the handsome blond improved, Zamiel was stuck here. By evening, Arno was suffering from a high fever. Zamiel had been worried most about his missing eye, but instead he’d developed an infection in a particularly deep gash in his shoulder. Carefully applying herbal salve and bathing the slight blond with cool water, Zamiel remained by Arno’s side. If he thought another healer could do more, he’d have tried cawing for assistance, but he’d learned from the best. He tried to convince himself he would be as concerned about any Raptvyn in his care, but something about Arno struck at his heart. The following night, Zamiel noticed he was running low on the herbal pain reliever and knew he would soon need to leave the nest in search of ingredients to make more. Though he didn’t like the idea of leaving Arno alone, he should be safe enough for a short time. Too weak to shift to his bird form, there was no risk of him, in a bout of delirium, flying or climbing out of the ten-foot deep nest. Still, Zamiel could wait another day or so, hoping for the fever to break.

***** Unless he has a great excuse for standing me up, I’m going to kill him, Mitzi thought. She beat her wings, too impatient at the moment to soar leisurely through the sky. Of course she didn’t really want to kill Zamiel, but she was mad at him. He’d promised to meet her at the lake at midday. She’d waited there for hours. Every now and then he pulled a stunt like this, saying one thing then doing another. If she wasn’t so worried that he might be hurt, or worse, she wouldn’t give him the 7

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satisfaction that his little no-show bothered her at all. On thing that irritated her was how he reprimanded her if she was late or missed a meeting without sending word. He seemed to think that because he was a warrior and a male, she had no reason to worry about him, yet it was fine for him to be protective of her. In a way, she took his concern for her welfare as a good sign. At least it proved he cared more deeply for her than even he realized. Maybe she deserved this, letting herself get involved with a rogue Raptvyn. Zamiel had made it plain from the first he had no intention of undergoing the mating ritual with anyone. Getting him to fuck her hadn’t been difficult, but it had taken her years to lure him into friendship. With him, even the fucking was strange. He’d insisted they use herbal remedies to keep them from procreating. Such practices were frowned upon by their kind, but he would not be caged into permanent mating by fathering nestlings. She knew it made no sense to waste her time with someone like Zamiel, yet she couldn’t help her feelings for him. From the moment he’d flown into her flock’s Convocation Clearing, summoned by her leader as a paid mercenary to help them win the battle against a rival flock, she’d been fascinated by him. He wasn’t the tallest, biggest or flashiest among Raptvyns, but he oozed appeal. There was no missing him, that was for sure. Rugged in appearance with a square jaw and vibrant blue eyes that could be piercing one moment and irresistibly inviting the next, he was the most virile man she’d ever met. A pure Raptvyn warrior. Other females in her flock had often commented on his appeal, though the heavy scarring on his face and body as well as his brusque attitude put most of them off. Many warriors had at least some scarring and Mitzi found the jagged white marks that covered the entire left and partial right sides of Zamiel’s face oddly compelling. Just the thought of his body aroused her. Well proportioned and sleekly muscled, he moved with strength and precision in both his man and bird forms. Those beautiful rich brown and gold feathers were easy on the eyes. Even better was his golden tan man’s flesh, lightly dusted with chestnut hair in all the right places, such as his chiseled chest, sinewy forearms and long, steel-muscled legs. Even now, just thinking about him made her heart skip a beat. In spite of his appeal, Zamiel was far more than a hot piece of ass. The man was more complicated than he first appeared. Underneath his gruff exterior, beyond the barrier he’d built around his heart, dwelled a man of loyalty and compassion. She knew it, felt it each time she looked into his eyes or rested in his arms. All she had to do was keep working at getting him to realize it. But first she needed to reinforce the importance of keeping a date. As long as he was able to. In his line of work, his life was constantly at risk. For all she knew, he could be lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death… No. She couldn’t think that way.

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Nearing his nest, she slowed her flight and tried to control her anxiety. If he wasn’t there, he might be at the lake or out on a hunt or— She chirped a greeting and he replied immediately in his man’s voice, inviting her inside. Heavens, she loved the sound of his voice with its perfect pitch and hint of roughness that turned her on more than she wanted to admit. Mitzi dipped lower and entered the nest. One thing about Zamiel, he built a beautiful nest. Deep and spacious, it could stand up against the worst weather. And he’d even built an overhead shelter in one corner to keep his belongings dry. It was also ideal if he decided to sleep in man form instead of protected by his Raptvyn feathers. In the nest, she was shocked to find Zamiel kneeling beside a slender, blond Raptvyn from a flock in the Adirondacks. Arno. She shifted to her woman’s form and approached. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted his gaze raking her appreciatively. After so long, she still appealed to him, which under normal circumstances would have made her very happy. At the moment she was more concerned with the injured Raptvyn. “What happened?” she demanded, crouching by the unconscious blond. She smoothed hair from his forehead and said softly, “Arno.” “You know him?” Zamiel asked. “Yeah, I do.” He studied her carefully, his eyes seeming to penetrate her soul. “Quite well, it seems.” “We’re friends,” she answered truthfully. Though from different flocks, she and Arno saw each other regularly. It had even crossed her mind that he would make a good mate, along with another male, of course. Among their kind, ménages were the rule rather than the exception. It was expected that a woman would eventually settle down with two males. “I see.” Was that a note of jealousy in his voice? “Zamiel, did you—” “Do this to him?” He curled his lip. “If I did, why would I have spent the past two days playing nursemaid to him?” “Well, that explains why you missed our date.” “Date?” Again he curled his lip. “You speak like a human.” “Well, they are my favorite subject to study. Not that it matters right now. What happened to him? He looks like he was fighting with another Raptvyn.” “I found him unconscious not far from here.” “He’s running a fever.” “Yes and it’s finally come down, but I need ingredients for more pain medication. I haven’t been able to leave him.”

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“I’ll stay while you get what you need,” she said. “Good. It shouldn’t take long.” Before she could comment, he shifted to his bird form and flew off so fast the nest actually shook. Sighing, she turned to Arno and took his hand, squeezing it gently. His fingers tightened around hers and a soft sound escaped his throat. They’d met about a year ago when he’d traveled to Canada to set up trade between their flocks. Arno had a good head for business and a charming manner that put even the most sullen, untrusting people at ease. He and Mitzi had taken to each other immediately. Unlike Zamiel, Arno had no problem opening his heart to a friend. Sweet and boyish, yet intelligent and a quick learner, he was easy to talk to as well as trustworthy, a winning combination. Seeing him hurt like this distressed Mitzi greatly, yet he was in the care of a competent healer. If anyone could help him, Zamiel was the man. Arno moaned and moved restlessly, his brow furrowed. “Hey, be still,” she said softly, placing a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. Slowly his eye opened and focused on her. “Mitzi,” he whispered. “Am I still—” He glanced around and closed his eye again. “I’m still here with…” “Zamiel,” she supplied. “You have to help me get out of here.” He licked his dry lips. Mitzi reached for a mug of water and helped him take a couple of sips. Afterward he lay back, his breathing shallow. “He’ll kill me if he knows,” he murmured. “Knows what?” she asked. “That I’m from my flock. When I told him Pepik had attacked me, he said he knew our flock. The hatred in his eyes—” “Pepik attacked you?” she demanded. “The cousin of your friend Jindra?” “Yes.” “Damn Pepik! I never liked that overgrown turkey.” A slight smile flickered across Arno’s lips. “Speaking of Jindra, I need to warn him. Pepik wants him dead. He—” “Just relax.” Mitzi pushed him down when he tried to rise. “When Zamiel gets back, I’ll fly to your flock and let them know where you are.” “Don’t tell Zamiel about them. He’ll kill me. I’ve never seen such hatred in a man’s eyes…” She smiled slightly and caressed Arno’s pale cheek. “He’s not going to hurt you. Sometimes Zamiel’s caw is worse than his peck. Sometimes. If he saved you, he won’t kill you.” 10

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Arno’s jaw tightened and he drew a shaky breath. She knew his wounds must hurt terribly, especially now that the herbal remedies seemed to be wearing off. If only Zamiel would hurry up and return. “You’re right about him hating your flock though,” she said, trying to keep his mind off his pain. “Why?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s a private person, so I don’t want to give away too much, but his family once belonged to your flock. They were driven off when he was just a fledgling.” Arno’s eye widened a bit. “He’s the Shunned One. I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard about him. How do you know him?” “We’ve been…friends…for a long time.” “Friends?” Arno asked with a knowing look. “Yes. I think he’d admit to that, but with a man like Zamiel, you can’t be sure. He has a problem with commitment.” “Shunned or not, he’d be a rogue. I can tell by looking at him. At least what I can see from one eye.” Arno groaned. “Fuck, this still hurts.” “Your eye?” He nodded. “And my arm.” She smoothed locks of wavy blond hair from his forehead. “Try to get some rest. Zamiel went to get ingredients for more pain medicine.” “I have to get home.” Arno sat up and she tried to push him back down. He grasped her shoulders and moved her aside, wincing from the pain in his injured arm. “How far do you think you’ll get in this condition?” she demanded and shoved him a bit harder. Still weak, he staggered slightly and braced a hand against the side of the nest. What little color he had drained from his face. “I’d rather die out there instead of in here once he realizes what flock I’m from.” “You’re exaggerating.” “Are you so blinded by his gorgeous looks that you can’t see he’s nuts?” “Gorgeous, huh?” she said, hoping to keep his mind off his discomfort. She guided him back to a reclining position. This time he didn’t protest. Anger surged through her at the thought of Pepik, a bulky, well-trained Raptvyn warrior, doing a job like this on someone as gentle as Arno. “So you noticed.” “I still have one eye, you know.” She credited him with trying to keep a sense of humor, though she winced to think of the physical and emotional pain he must be suffering. “You know, you’re the only person other than me who calls him gorgeous. Most of the huntresses think he looks frightening, even for a warrior.” “He is gorgeous. They probably want to fuck him and are afraid they’re not hot enough for him.” 11

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Mitzi gave a snort of laughter. “Regardless what he looks like, he’s as full of hate as Pepik and look what he did to me.” “Zamiel has too much dignity to attack a creature weaker than himself.” “So now I’m a creature, huh?” She shook her head and covered him with the tattered blanket. “You know what I mean. Sheesh, Zamiel needs new blankets. I keep telling him to barter for some on his next assignment, but does he pay attention to things like this? No.” “He’s the primitive warrior type. You think he gives a damn about tattered blankets?” Arno muttered, drawing a deep breath and shifting his position, obviously uncomfortable. Moving didn’t seem to help and Mitzi felt another pang of sympathy. Before they could continue the conversation, Zamiel swooped into the nest and deposited a bunch of fresh herbs in a corner. He shifted to his man form and his piercing gaze swept from Mitzi to Arno and back again before he knelt by the wounded Raptvyn. “He’s in a lot of pain,” Mitzi said. “There’s some prepared medicine left. I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry.” He turned and mixed the medicine, then brought it to Arno who drank it. As Arno settled to a more comfortable position, Zamiel touched his forehead. “The fever is way down. You’ll heal quickly now.” “Then I’ll be out of your way,” Arno said. “I’m sorry for the imposition.” “It’s no trouble,” Zamiel said gruffly. Mitzi studied him carefully. Though Zamiel was difficult to read, she had learned to observe subtle changes in his tone and expression. She sensed he felt something for Arno deeper than a healer’s concern for a patient. Not that she blamed him. Arno was difficult to resist. Zamiel usually avoided conversations about mating, and for some reason, she had assumed he was one of those rare Raptvyn males who, rather than having the common bisexual tendencies, preferred women only. She felt a twinge of jealousy at the realization that he might be attracted to Arno. Then a sensation of delightful anticipation darted through her as well. She imagined what it would be like if the three of them mated. Mitzi might be past the age when most Raptvyn females mated, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been dreaming about it. She wanted to be certain she chose the right males. Unfortunately, the one whose nestlings she most desired had what humans call a phobia regarding commitment. Perhaps if Zamiel had two willing partners, he’d be more apt to mate. The medicine must have been strong because moments later Arno fell into a deep sleep. Zamiel glanced at her. “He’ll be out for a few hours.” “You look like you can use some rest too,” she said, noting the shadows beneath his eyes.

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“I’ve been up for a couple of nights with him. Nearly lost him a few times, but he’s tougher than he looks.” “He is. Cute too, isn’t he?” she observed, watching carefully for his reaction. Zamiel shrugged, though she noticed his gaze lingering on Arno’s chiseled face. “Go to sleep,” she suggested. “I’ll stick around and watch him until you wake up, then I’ll fly to his flock and let them know he’s all right.” “Nice of you.” “Like I told you. He’s a friend.” “Yes.” This time his eyes met hers and she felt almost as if he was reading her mind. She nearly squirmed beneath his penetrating gaze. “You can tell them it will probably be a day or two before he’s strong enough to fly home. I’ll accompany him to make sure he gets there all right.” “No!” she said. Not only did Arno want to keep his flock a secret, but the last place Zamiel should fly into was their territory. He cocked an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” “I think he’d be more comfortable if I accompanied him.” Zamiel studied her carefully and she knew he didn’t quite believe her. “We can ask him when he wakes up,” she said. “In the meantime, rest while you can.” “All right. I’m expecting a message from Carl’s flock any day now. It’s about time for their next big hunt.” Flock leaders didn’t only hire Zamiel for his fighting skills, but often called on him to join their hunts. An exceptional hunter, he sometimes filled in for injured Raptvyns or if a flock leader simply wanted an extra set of talons. As with mercenary work, he was paid in food or goods. Mitzi guessed he was probably one of the richest Raptvyns she knew, working for so many flocks in both the United States and Canada. Still she wondered if he wouldn’t trade wealth for the support and stability of flock life. She glanced at Zamiel who, in his man form, stretched out on a blanket and closed his eyes. No. If he wanted to join a flock, he’d had offers. Her own flock leader had given him a chance to join them as a hunter, but Zamiel refused. Obviously he liked being on his own, yet he wasn’t a complete rogue or else he wouldn’t have welcomed her friendship. Sighing, she sat near him, her back against the wall. After a moment she hesitantly lifted her hand and stroked his short brown hair, enjoying its coarseness against her fingers. He gave a low moan and she paused. “I’m sorry. Is that bothering you?” “No,” he murmured, his voice heavy with impending sleep. “Feels good.” She smiled and continued stroking him. Zamiel’s vulnerable moments were so rare that she enjoyed them when they occurred. Usually they only happened when he was

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making love, or at times like this, just before he drifted to sleep. She felt privileged that he finally trusted her enough to sleep around her. It had certainly taken a while, but it was so much nicer when they made love to sometimes sleep in each other’s arms.

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Chapter Two When Arno awoke, dusk had settled over the mountain and a chill hung on the air. Though still sore, he felt much better than he had before and breathed a sigh of relief. He absently reached for the bandage on his eye and felt a twinge he couldn’t quite place. It was more like a combination of emotions—sorrow, anger and deep loss. Part of him didn’t quite believe that when the bandage came off he wouldn’t see just as he had before Pepik’s attack. He rolled onto his side so he wouldn’t face only the nest wall and found Zamiel seated beside him, observing him with penetrating eyes. Over the past few days, those eyes had been a source of fear and comfort. Strange that he had depended on the care of a man who might just kill him if he knew about his flock. Mitzi had seemed sure that Zamiel wouldn’t harm him. Arno wanted to believe her, not only out of the desire to survive, but because it would be so easy to develop a romantic fixation on this particular rogue. Actually, Arno had a history of falling for rogues. His close friend and one-time lover, Jindra, had also chosen a rogue’s existence. Just recently he’d fallen in love and mated with a human male, no less. As long as he was happy. Arno had more conventional dreams. He longed to be part of a traditional Raptvyn trio with a female best friend and an alpha male who set their souls on fire. And, of course, nestlings. He’d always dreamed of raising nestlings. In his heart, he knew he’d already found at least one of his mates. For the past several months, he’d been trying to find the best way to approach the subject with Mitzi. It almost seemed like too much of a coincidence that she was tied up with this gorgeous, lonely warrior who’d rescued him from certain death. He wondered how deep their relationship delved. Were they simply friends or also lovers? Of course, he was letting his mind run away with him. He’d seen the hatred, the blind rage in Zamiel’s eyes at the mention of Arno’s flock. Surely there was no way he would fuck a man whose people he despised. Was he crazy to even think about fucking Zamiel? This Raptvyn warrior could most likely destroy him with one wing tied behind his back. Yet that lean, sinewy build and that rugged face turned Arno on so much that he felt a twitch in his cock. He thanked the gods for the blanket covering him from the chest down. “Feeling better?” Zamiel asked. “Uh, yeah,” Arno replied. “A little hungry though.” “Good. You should be. I’ll get you something to eat.” He turned and ducked under the overhang at the far end of the nest.

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This was the first time Arno could examine the structure outside of a fevered haze. It was unusually spacious and very well designed. A nest like this must have taken Zamiel ages to build. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the mood to linger over the fine architecture, not when Zamiel’s back was to him and he could drool unabashedly over the man’s big, super-tight ass. Fuck, Arno would love to grab a piece of that. Zamiel had broad shoulders too and the kind of back Arno would like to lick and kiss all over. And his legs! Damn, they went on forever in all their lean, muscular glory. Even the scars marking his flesh were a turn-on. The rugged warrior types usually had at least a few scars, but his body was a mass of them. Most shape shifters had strong regenerative powers, so no doubt whatever battles had left such scars on this rogue must have been terrible. Arno’s heartbeat quickened and he licked his lips. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to regain control of himself before Zamiel turned around. A moment later, Zamiel brought him a bowl of berries, several strips of smoked meat and a mug of water. Arno began eating with enthusiasm. “Slow down,” Zamiel said. “You’ll make yourself sick.” “I’m so hungry,” Arno replied, though he ate slower. Between mouthfuls, he asked, “Is there a lake nearby? I’d give anything for a bath.” “Anything?” Zamiel asked. Something in his tone nabbed Arno’s full attention and he met the rogue Raptvyn’s gaze. There was no mistaking the lustful expression in Zamiel’s big blue eyes. A thrill traveled down Arno’s spine and his belly tightened with desire. Zamiel might be crazy and a loner, but he was sexy enough to seduce a bear away from a deer supper. “Well, anything within reason,” Arno replied, licking berry juice from his lips. He paused in eating. With Zamiel staring at him like this, the butterflies in his stomach momentarily defeated his hunger. “I think you should stay here and rest until tomorrow, then I’ll fly with you to the lake. In the meantime, I can bring you some water to wash up with.” “Thank you. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.” Zamiel shook his head. The slightest smile tugged at the corners of his solemn mouth. “No trouble.” “Yeah. Right,” Arno scoffed. “Mitzi let your flock know you’re all right and will be returning home in a few days. By the way, Mitzi said that, according to gossip at the Convocation Clearing, Pepik is dead. You had said he attacked you.” At the mention of that dreaded name, a twinge of rage and fear shot through Arno. Then Zamiel’s words sank in and he also felt a rush of gladness and relief. “How did he die?”

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“Your friend Jindra and his business partner killed him. I’m not surprised. Any son of Rostya is bound to be an even bigger bastard than Pepik had been.” Arno bristled. “Jindra is a good man and a loyal friend.” Zamiel snorted with contempt then changed the subject by saying, “Mitzi will be coming by later.” “Have you and she been together long?” Arno ventured. Though he could understand why she’d never mentioned him to Zamiel, he couldn’t quite figure out why she’d never spoken of Zamiel to him. She obviously felt a deeper loyalty to Zamiel, which led Arno to believe they were much more than friends. “Together?” he asked. “Yes. I assumed you and she are…” His voice faded as a cool look crept into Zamiel’s eyes. Arno’s health must be improving because he decided that, even though Zamiel could most likely pluck him alive, he would not be intimidated by him. He cleared his throat and continued, “I assumed you and she were lovers or perhaps mates.” “If we were as close as you think, wouldn’t I have known something about you, considering you’re such close friends? Or are you more than that?” Arno’s brow furrowed. This was going all wrong. The last thing he wanted was to fight with this gorgeous raptor over a woman, particularly a woman whom he’d been imagining as their mate. “You don’t have to worry about me and Mitzi—” Arno began. “I’m not,” he interrupted. “Her life and her companions are her business.” In spite of his rational statement, Arno didn’t miss the possessive glimmer in his eyes. Maybe this guy didn’t even know it himself, but Mitzi’s business meant quite a lot to him. Drawing a deep breath, Arno prepared to reach the heart of the situation. It was time to venture into even darker territory than whether or not Mitzi and Zamiel were lovers. He needed to find out if Zamiel’s hatred of his flock was as deep and real as Arno had observed or if he’d been imagining it while in a fever-induced haze. “She, uh, mentioned you don’t belong to a flock,” Arno began. Perhaps he was crazy to bait him like this, but his curiosity demanded satisfaction. “No,” Zamiel stated, moving so he could sit with his back against the wall, his long legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. When he didn’t elaborate, Arno continued, “Do you enjoy living alone?” “Come on. Get to the real point.” Zamiel curled his lip and glanced at Arno from the corner of his eye. “What else did Mitzi tell you?” Was he seriously opening up the conversation? This was an opportunity Arno refused to miss. “She said you were driven away from your flock when you were a fledgling.”

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Though his expression remained unreadable, his anger crackled on the air. “What else?” “That’s all,” Arno said quietly. “She said she didn’t want to disrespect your privacy by delving into your past.” Again that almost imperceptible smile touched Zamiel’s lips then faded as if it had never been. “Why all this interest in me?” “You did save my life.” Though Arno doubted he would have bothered if he’d known about his flock. “How about you?” Zamiel asked. “What flock are you from?” “Why?” “It will make things easier when I fly home with you once you’re strong enough.” “You don’t have to do that,” Arno said quickly. Zamiel turned to him and cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?” “Because I’m sure I’ll be fine to fly alone.” “Your injuries were serious and because of your missing eye, your vision won’t be the same. I’d feel better knowing you’re home safely.” “Maybe not,” Arno murmured under his breath. “What?” “Nothing important.” “Oh, and about your friend Jindra,” Zamiel said, practically sneering the words. “Yes?” Arno held his gaze, trying to figure out where the conversation was headed, yet sensing he wasn’t going to like it. “Don’t trust him.” “Excuse me?” “He’s from a bad bloodline. No son of Rostya is fit to live.” “I assure you, Jindra is nothing like his father.” Zamiel snorted with contempt and turned away. “Don’t think you’re the only one who ever had a problem with Rostya,” Arno said. “He’s had his share of enemies.” “Well deserved I’m sure.” “Did he…” “What?” Zamiel snapped. “Nothing.” “No. You have something to say. Say it.” “Did he drive you from the flock?” “When Rostya inherited the leadership, many were opposed to him. My father was among them. They fought during the two-day challenge.”

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Among Raptvyns, the two-day challenge was a ritual endured by each new leader. Traditionally, the first-born son of the current flock leader would take his father’s place. During the first two days of his appointment, any flock member could challenge his right to leadership, usually in a fight to the death. “Rostya killed him. Then he took me and my mother and marked us with the Shunning Scars.” Arno’s brow furrowed. The Shunning Scars were an ancient punishment meted out to the families of criminals. The flock leader would use his talons to gouge an X on the backs of a criminal’s spouses and children before they were banished from the flock. Such cruelty was rarely practiced by modern Raptvyns, but Rostya had been deeply rooted in tradition. That was part of the reason Jindra had left the flock to begin with. Zamiel continued, “Of course, we were not allowed to remain on flock territory. A close friend of my parents took us to common ground and cared for our injuries. I was still quite young at the time and almost died from the wounds.” “I’m sorry,” Arno said quietly. “It was a long time ago.” “Where did you learn your skills as a healer?” “That same friend of my parents. He taught me the skills of a hunter and warrior as well. Without him—” Zamiel shook his head and sighed. “Where is he now?” “By siding with me and my mother, he forfeited his place as a warrior in the flock and was banished along with us. A couple of years ago, he mated with a female from Mitzi’s flock and joined them.” “And your mother?” “Dead a few years after my father.” “What about your second father?” “My parents were unusual in that they never took a third mate.” “Why haven’t you joined another flock or asked to return to your birth flock? Rostya is dead and—” “I want nothing from my birth flock,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “Or any flock. They’re all a farce. Subject to the whim of any bastard strong and vicious enough to kill for leadership.” “Wow. I understand you have some issues, but you need to let go of the anger before you waste your whole life—” “What the hell do you know about my life?” “Nothing, but the anger problem—” “I don’t have an anger problem!” Zamiel leaned closer to Arno, his teeth clenched and eyes aflame. The muscles in his broad shoulders and sinewy arms tightened as his fingers gripped the floor until his knuckles turned white.

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“Whatever gave me that idea?” Arno said, refusing to lower his gaze from Zamiel’s. The dark-haired Raptvyn relaxed and sat back. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “You still haven’t told me what flock you’re from.” Oh I’m just rushing to do that, Arno thought. “It’s a small flock much farther north,” he lied. “Deep into Canada. So like I said, there’s no need for you to go so far out of your way.” “We’ll talk about it later. You should get more rest while you can.” Nodding, Arno settled beneath the blanket while Zamiel cleared away the bowl and mug. This time he studied Zamiel’s back more carefully and recognized the age-whitened Shunning Scars amidst the pattern of other savage marks from past wounds. They were probably the oldest scars on his body and had the most time to heal, yet Arno didn’t doubt they were the deepest emotionally. As if sensing Arno’s scrutiny, he glanced sharply over his shoulder. Arno turned away and closed his eyes, though it was a long time before he was able to sleep. Zamiel might be compelling, but he was also a frightening, fucked-up mess. Just the kind of man any sane Raptvyn should avoid. One thing was for sure. Arno would have to give Mitzi a good, long lecture about her choice in friends.

***** The following morning, Arno awoke at dawn feeling far stronger than he had in days. Most of his wounds had healed completely and even the worst of his injuries could be tolerated without herbs to deaden the pain. Once he’d thoroughly inspected Arno’s injuries, Zamiel handed him a carefully stitched leather eye patch. “Here. I made this for you.” Arno took it, his fingertips brushing Zamiel’s as he accepted the gift. He stared at it for a moment, still not quite believing his eye was gone. “Thank you.” He put on the patch and fastened it, finding it unexpectedly comfortable. No doubt Zamiel had taken his time to make certain it would fit well. His kindness over the past days touched Arno deeply. “Thank you,” Arno said. “It looks good on you.” “Yeah. Right,” Arno scoffed. The rogue Raptvyn reached toward Arno’s cheek but didn’t touch it. Instead his hand hovered so close that Arno felt its warmth. Their gazes locked, and for a second, Arno thought Zamiel might kiss him. His pulse quickened in anticipation, then Zamiel dropped his hand and turned away to prepare breakfast.

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After breakfast, Arno insisted on changing to his bird form and flying to the nearest lake for a swim. It felt strange flying while only able to see out of one eye. A pang of sorrow darted through him, but he refused to show any weakness. He was alive. A more powerful bird had tried to destroy him, but here he was, healing and ready to face whatever fate had in store for him next. Arno night not be the biggest bird, but he wasn’t a weakling either. Once he’d fully healed, he intended to take steps to see that what happened during Pepik’s attack wouldn’t happen again. Like most shape shifters in the wild, he adapted quickly to new situations. While he wasn’t entirely comfortable flying with one eye, he made a point to soar with confidence. Knowing Zamiel flew with him, offering encouraging chirps and caws, made him feel even better. Arno was beginning to realize Zamiel’s harsh veneer concealed a creature of depth. Once he found a way to tell him about his flock, Arno looked forward to getting to know him better. In spite of his healing wounds and impaired vision, Arno felt wonderful soaring through the sunny sky and feeling the caress of the warm summer breeze. In addition to enjoying the freedom of flight, he had the pleasure of admiring the magnificent Raptvyn soaring beside him. Zamiel was as stunning a bird as he was a man. Sleek and powerful, he flew with the strength and precision of a warrior. Except for a collar of gleaming gold around his neck, his feathers were dark, velvet brown. Arno followed Zamiel’s lead to the lake and they both dipped into the water, dragging their talons and splashing with their wings before changing to their man form. Arno closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying the cool water against his skin. It felt so good to finally wash after several days stuck in a nest. He glanced at Zamiel, who ducked under the water and resurfaced, running his hands through his short, wet hair. He stood, water lapping his flat belly and streaking his gorgeous torso, drawing even more attention to his sleek muscles. Droplets glistened in his chest hair and Arno resisted the urge to lick his lips. Zamiel’s piercing blue gaze met his and a quiver of passion ran down Arno’s spine. Damn, this guy can’t get any hotter. “Come here,” Zamiel said, wading toward Arno. “Yeah?” Arno tried to sound nonchalant, but his legs felt strangely weak as he approached his rescuer. When they stood only inches from one another, Zamiel reached toward Arno’s head. “You have a twig in your hair,” he said in a low, husky voice, his gaze holding Arno captive. “Didn’t think someone like you would notice a little thing like that.” Zamiel gave a low grunt. “Depends on who I’m looking at.”

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Good gods, is he coming on to me? Arno’s pulse raced and beneath the water his cock sprang to life. He’d suspected Zamiel found him attractive, though it might have been just a fantasy on his part. The very notion of being trapped in this gorgeous rogue’s arms, of feeling the caress of his chiseled lips and warm, wet tongue, was enough to make Arno’s head spin. After dropping the twig in the water, Zamiel ran his fingertips down Arno’s cheek so gently he scarcely felt his touch. Arno drew a sharp breath and moved even closer, swallowing a bit more loudly than he’d intended. He was acting like a damn fledgling with his first fuck instead of an experienced man in his early thirties. Yet he’d never met anyone quite like Zamiel. This guy did things to him, body and soul, that no one ever had before. Zamiel’s gaze became so intense that Arno forgot everything except the man in front of him. Tentatively, Zamiel cupped Arno’s cheek. His lips parted slightly and he took Arno’s face in both hands and kissed him. Fuck, this was like the kiss he’d spent his life dreaming of. As much as Arno had enjoyed making love with Jindra, theirs had been a relationship based on close friendship and loneliness. They’d satisfied each other’s needs, yet both had been searching for their soul mates. At this moment, Arno knew he had finally found his and he was probably the worst man in the world for him. Zamiel hated his flock, even though he had once been part of it. Who knew how he’d react if he found out where Arno was from? He’d seen the rage and violence in the man’s eyes and heard it in his voice, yet deep inside he refused to believe Zamiel would do him real harm. The thought of it was too painful. It would be a cruel trick of fate for Arno to have finally found the man of his dreams, only to be despised by him. With every stroke of Zamiel’s tongue, every gentle caress of his lips, Arno’s desire soared to greater heights. His cock stiffened and belly clenched. He felt Zamiel’s cock swell between their bodies that were now pressed so close their hearts seemed to beat as one. Zamiel’s fingers wove through Arno’s long blond hair while Arno ran his hands over Zamiel’s shoulders and back, relishing the sensation of his rock-hard muscles beneath water-slicked flesh. His fingers trailed over the scars, lingering on their roughness. How many of those injuries might have been prevented if he hadn’t been driven from his flock, forced into a rogue’s existence? A pang of guilt darted through Arno. He should probably tell Zamiel the truth before this went any further. He had the right to know the man he was about to fuck belonged to the flock he hated. Perhaps it was fear, or more likely selfishness because he so desperately wanted them to make love, but Arno pushed aside all thoughts and concentrated fully on his primal urges. He told himself they were caught in the moment, that Zamiel was irresistible. That he was so thrilled to be alive after Pepik’s attack he wanted to celebrate by doing something wild and utterly fulfilling.

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With a low groan of desire, Zamiel broke their kiss and trailed his lips along the side of Arno’s neck. Clinging to Zamiel like a drowning man to a log of driftwood, Arno closed his eyes and surrendered completely. When the kiss broke, Zamiel spoke against Arno’s lips. “Come with me.” Taking Arno’s hand, he guided him out of the water. Zamiel sat on the ground and tugged Arno beside him. “You’re feeling better?” Zamiel asked, caressing the back of Arno’s neck. His heart thumping wildly with anticipation, Arno nodded. “Good enough for some mild exercise?” Arno grinned. “Mild?” “I’ll be gentle. You’ve had a rough few days.” Arno edged closer, his lips almost touching Zamiel’s. “I like gentle.” “Good,” Zamiel whispered, pressing Arno onto his back. The dirt felt cool and dry, yet pleasant beneath his damp skin. Even better was knowing that, from this position, he could guess the sort of game Zamiel wanted to play. He could almost feel Zamiel’s warm, wet mouth on his cock, the sensation of his stroking tongue and firm lips on his stiff flesh. “Do you like it gentle?” Arno asked. “I like to give it gentle.” Zamiel kissed each corner of his mouth. Arno’s eyes slipped shut and he sighed with pleasure. In many ways, this guy was just perfect for him. Arno had spoken the truth about liking gentle lovers. So few men had truly mastered the art of gentle lovemaking, at least the sort of men Arno was attracted to. Usually the rugged type either genuinely preferred rough sex or feared ruining their manly image. Thus far, Jindra had been his most considerate lover, curbing his lust for rough sex out of respect for Arno. Though enjoyable, their sex life hadn’t been truly fulfilling. Knowing they didn’t like the same kind of fucking put a bit of a damper on the fun. Kneeling beside Arno, Zamiel ran a hand over the slighter man’s shoulders and chest. He brushed his thumb over Arno’s nipples and trailed his fingertip down his belly. Arno’s stomach clenched and quivered beneath Zamiel’s feathery touch. As good as it felt being caressed, he longed to explore Zamiel as well. He placed a hand on his thigh and stroked the steely length of it, relishing the feel of hair-roughened flesh, still cool from their swim. No doubt they’d both soon be hot with passion. Zamiel’s stiff cock revealed his arousal. He paused a moment in touching Arno to push down his foreskin and reveal the absolutely gorgeous shaft. Long, pale and beautifully veined, it had a thick, rounded head. Arno imagined rolling his tongue over the tiny eye and tickling the underside. Soon. Very soon.

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Arno circled his fist around Zamiel’s cock and stroked lightly. Zamiel gave a low moan of pleasure that further incited Arno’s desire. He tightened his grip and stroked a bit faster, then ran his thumb along the underside of his cock head. Zamiel moaned, his hips shifting forward and stomach muscles tightening. He reached for Arno’s staff and began stroking it in a steady rhythm. After a moment, he moved from Arno’s reach and positioned himself between his legs. He clasped Arno’s swollen cock, pushed down the foreskin and took the head between his lips. Torn between the desire to close his eyes and wanting to watch the gorgeous Raptvyn suck his cock, Arno moaned and thrust his hips. Zamiel moved a hand from Arno’s staff and clasped his balls. His warm, wet tongue teased the underside of his cock head. Arno panted. Zamiel handled him so perfectly that if he kept up the sucking and licking much longer, Arno would explode in ecstasy. His heart thrummed in his chest and the muscles of his stomach and legs tightened and trembled. He reached down and curled his fingers in Zamiel’s thick, dark hair. “Zamiel, ah, fuck! You’d better slow down. I don’t know how much longer I can—” Pausing in his carnal task, Zamiel spoke so close to Arno’s cock head that his breath stimulated the ultra-sensitive flesh. “Don’t try to hold back. Just let it go.” “But—” “Do it—” Zamiel’s husky voice spurred his desire and his skilled mouth once again claimed Arno’s cock head. He sucked deeply, the slick, moist flesh along the back of his throat sending Arno into a frenzy. Crying out with passion, Arno arched off the ground, his buttocks clenching and his entire body aflame. In all his life, no one had ever given him such great head. Zamiel continued sucking until Arno burst into an earth-shattering climax. Arno came so long and hard, he thought he might pass out from the relentless pleasure. He shot his load and Zamiel didn’t pull back, but took all he had, swallowing his come and groaning deep in his throat. It was as if he gained almost as much pleasure from driving Arno to climax as Arno felt reaching it. Finally Zamiel moved away and Arno lay on his back, his chest heaving and quivers of pleasure still rocking his body. He wasn’t sure how long he lay in a semiconscious state, but he finally became aware of Zamiel’s warm body stretched out beside him. A calloused hand roamed over his chest and gently cupped his cheek. Then Zamiel brushed his mouth with a kiss and said, “Are you awake yet?” Arno smiled and stretched, slowly opening his eye. “Did I sleep?” “A little.” Zamiel smiled.

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“I owe you something.” Arno rolled toward Zamiel, draping a leg over his waist and covering his lean, hair-dusted chest with kisses. Gods he had such a hard, virile body and he smelled so good. “I look forward to collecting,” Zamiel said, cupping the back of Arno’s head. Thoroughly absorbed in his lover’s body, Arno continued licking and kissing his chest. His tongue rolled over his nipple and he gently scraped his teeth over the soft, dark pink flesh. Zamiel’s cock, already stiff with passion, swelled even more. The sensation of their bodies pressed close together rekindled Arno’s desire. He wanted to make this rugged warrior writhe and tremble with need. He longed to give Zamiel the same pleasure he had just provided so freely. He licked every inch of Zamiel’s chest and ran his lips across his collarbone. Arno kissed a tender trail down the center of the rogue’s muscle-ridged belly. Sliding his arms beneath Zamiel’s muscled thighs, he licked his lips and brushed his cheek against his cock, relishing the caress of silky flesh. He rolled down the foreskin and lapped the thick, well-veined shaft from root to head. Using the tip of his tongue, he tickled the thick vein running along the underside of his cock head. He rolled his tongue over the crown, tasting the droplets of moisture from the tiny eye. Arno loved sucking cock nearly as much as he loved getting his cock sucked, but never in his life had he enjoyed giving head as much as today. Being with Zamiel brought unimagined pleasure. He relished the taste of his velvet-skinned cock, exploring the shaft and head that was the same, yet different, from his own. Moisture beaded at the tip of Zamiel’s cock and Arno licked it away. Inhaling Zamiel’s deliciously musky scent, his stomach clenched with arousal. The sound of his lover’s voice, ragged and rough with need, told him Zamiel was momentarily at his mercy. He guessed few people got this gorgeous rogue in such a state, and though he meant to enjoy it, he didn’t want to tease him too badly. Not when he’d been kind enough to give Arno a fast, intense orgasm. There would be other days to explore each other more slowly. Today was for complete decadence. Clasping the staff in both hands, he sucked with a vengeance, moaning with pleasure as he drove Zamiel closer and closer to orgasm. When he came, his hips arched and his come shot down Arno’s throat. Arno sucked and swallowed, intending to give his lover the same intense, unrestrained delight as he’d been granted a short time ago. “Fuck. It feels so fucking good,” Zamiel panted, his hips thrusting with each spurt of pleasure. Finally he lay still except for the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slowed to normal.

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Arno sat back on his heels, his hands resting on Zamiel’s hard thighs, and gazed at his lover. He wasn’t sure what would happen next between them, but one thing was certain, Arno had every intention of winning this rogue’s heart.

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Chapter Three Flying over the lake toward Zamiel’s nest, Mitzi caught sight of her two favorite guys splashing in the water. Had she been in her woman form, she’d be smiling. She knew they’d get along. Swooping low, she chirped a greeting and they waved to her. Mitzi landed in the shallow water and changed to her woman form. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulders as she walked toward Arno and Zamiel. Arno wore a brown leather patch over his eye, obviously Zamiel’s work. He definitely had talent as a craftsman but was far too wild to settle down in a less dangerous business, such as trade. She sighed. Oh well, that was part of his appeal, even if it did mean she’d probably spend her life worrying about him. “Hey,” she said, slipping her arms around Arno’s neck. “You look sexy with that patch.” “Oh please.” Arno raised his eye to the heavens. “I mean it. You’ve always looked so baby-faced. Now you look like a sinister angel or something.” She knew by his expression that her words flattered him, but he clicked his tongue, shook his head and gave her a quick hug. “I guess you’re feeling better?” she asked. “Yes. Thanks.” “I’m glad.” She kissed his cheek, then turned to Zamiel who stood nearby, watching her carefully. “Good morning,” she said, stepping toward him. His arm slipped around her waist and he tugged her close to his rock-hard body as his mouth covered hers in a possessive kiss. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was jealous of her exchange with Arno. “I’m leaving for home today,” Arno said. “Why don’t you wait one more day?” Zamiel suggested. “You’re still not fully recovered.” A sexual look passed between the males and Mitzi glanced from one to the other. Was there something they weren’t telling her? What had been going on while they were alone together? She thought Arno had been too sick to think about sex, but maybe she’d been wrong. Perhaps getting them together wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d thought. “I really need to get home and let my flock know I’m all right.”

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“I don’t think he should travel alone yet,” Zamiel stated. “So I’m going to accompany him.” This shocked Mitzi and she turned to Arno in question. He said quickly, “I told him that’s not necessary. My flock is farther north into Canada, so—” “I was going there today anyway,” Mitzi said, picking up on Arno’s desperate plea. Obviously, in spite of how well he and Zamiel seemed to be getting along, he’d decided not to confide in him about his flock. “I’ll be glad to fly with you, Arno.” “Great. See, Zamiel. I won’t impose on you anymore.” Zamiel’s gaze locked with Arno’s with unmistakable lust. “You can impose on me anytime.” A slight flush stained Arno’s high cheekbones and his lips tilted up in a smile. An odd sensation darted through Mitzi. Was it jealousy on her part? Goodness, entering a trio seemed to be more difficult than she’d imagined. Maybe once they were comfortable with each other and— What was wrong with her? For all she knew, neither Arno nor Zamiel would agree to mating. Patience. That’s what she needed. She’d already waited twenty-nine years to find her mates. What was a little while longer? Once they’d finished their swim, they lay on the flat rocks by the lake to dry off. It was so pleasantly warm that Mitzi rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, nearly asleep. Obviously the men thought she had drifted off, because they spoke in low whispers. “Stay one more night,” Zamiel said. “I can’t. My flock—” “I understand,” Zamiel interrupted curtly. “Can I see you again?” “You don’t have to say that.” “I want to. Don’t you want to?” Yes! He wants to, Mitzi thought. Please don’t be stubborn this time, Zamiel. “Well, don’t you?” Arno pressed. “It’s up to you.” “Then I’ll be back once I’ve touched base with my flock.” “Uh-huh.” “You don’t believe me?” Zamiel made no verbal reply, but Mitzi could just see the distant look on his face as he shrugged. He’d given her that treatment too many times for her not to know Arno was getting a taste of it now. “I will be back,” Arno said. “Once you’ve contacted your flock.”

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“Yes.” “If you tell me the location, I could come to you instead. Save you the trip.” “I told you it’s—” “It’s obvious you don’t want to tell me.” “Look, I’m grateful for what you did, but—” “Don’t worry. One thing I respect is people’s privacy. I hate mine invaded, so I won’t invade anyone else’s.” “You’re reading me all wrong. It’s not—” “There’s no need to explain.” “I think there is.” These guys were driving her crazy. Why couldn’t they just be honest with each other? One hid his flock. The other hid his interest. People thought women said one thing and meant another, but men were far worse. “If you decide to come back, you’re welcome. If not, no big thing.” Mitzi rolled toward them and opened her eyes. They glanced at her and the conversation stopped. “When do you want to leave?” Mitzi asked Arno. He glanced at Zamiel, who held his gaze and shrugged. “Now, if you’re up to it,” Arno replied. “Great. It’s a nice day for a flight.” They stood and stretched. Arno stepped toward Zamiel and embraced him. “Thank you for everything.” “No problem,” Zamiel said rather roughly, yet gripped Arno tightly before releasing him. Mitzi and Arno shifted to their bird form and headed north toward her flock’s territory, unsure of how else to keep the lie Arno had spun about the location of his flock. Halfway there, she signaled for him to land in a neutral clearing between their flock and a neighboring one. “Arno, we’re going to have to fly miles out of the way for you to keep up this charade,” Mitzi said after they’d changed back to their human shape. “You really aren’t recovered enough to—” “It’s better than having him find out I lied.” “So you’re never going to tell him about your flock? He obviously likes you. Do you really think he’d hurt you because of where you come from?” “I don’t know.” Arno sighed deeply and sat on the ground. “I’m so damn confused. Mitzi, tell me the truth. Have you ever fucked him?” “Why?”

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“I just— He’s very attractive, but there’s something dangerous about him. I think anyone who becomes his lover risks getting hurt in more ways than one. I’m just concerned about—” “Me or you?” She folded her arms across her chest and cast him a knowing glance. “What happened between the two of you while you were alone?” “I’ve been injured!” “Yes, but this morning you seem much better. Did you fuck him is the real question.” “I asked you first.” Mitzi raised her eyes to the heavens. “This is silly. We sound like a couple of fledglings with a crush on a member of the flock guard.” “He has that effect, doesn’t he?” “Yeah.” Mitzi sighed with resignation and flopped down next to Arno. “He’s one of those rugged, brooding types that you just want to—” “Take in your arms and soothe while he’s devouring you with his big, virile body.” Mitzi couldn’t help laughing and leaned her head against Arno’s shoulder. “I’ve had my eye on him for a while, Arno, but he’s a tough nut to crack, as they say.” “There’s someone I’ve had my eye on for a while.” “Yeah? Who?” Arno turned and held her gaze. He moistened his lips and swallowed, cupping her face in his hand. “You.” Momentarily taken aback, she stared at him in silence. He chuckled nervously. “Will you say something?” “Me?” “We’re great friends and I care about you a lot, Mitzi. I’m not getting any younger and I’d really like to settle down and have nestlings. You’d make beautiful nestlings.” He caressed her hair, his blue gaze so warm and loving that she melted into his arms. “What do you say, Mitzi?” “I love you, Arno. I really do. I can’t say I haven’t thought about us settling down, but I’ll be honest, I want a traditional trio.” “So do I.” His brow furrowed and he smiled. “I meant you, me and…another male.” She raised an eyebrow. “I have another male in mind.” “So do I.” “How long do you think it will take us to convince Zamiel?” Their gazes locked and they smiled. “I think the first step will be you telling him the truth about your flock.”

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Arno shifted uncomfortably and stood, pacing the clearing. “You have to give me some time to do that in my own way. I want to give him a chance to get to know me before he decides whether or not to kill me.” “Come on, Arno! You can’t really believe he’d hurt you.” “Those Shunning Scars on his back go deeper than the flesh, Mitzi. You know it as well as I do. If this is going to work, I need to do this in my own way.” “You’re right about those scars going deep, Arno. I think all Zamiel’s scars are deep.” She rose and stood in front of him, their gazes locked. “So I don’t like the idea of lying to him. It’s taken long enough for him to trust me, even a little. I won’t hurt him by lying.” “I’m not asking you to lie. Just don’t tell him the truth until I have a chance to work on him.” “I know Zamiel. The only thing he can respect is the truth.” “I will tell him the truth, but in my own time.” Folding her arms beneath her breasts, she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t like this.” “Give me a week to recover before I tell him the truth. That way, if he goes crazy, I’ll at least have the strength to out-fly him.” She couldn’t help chuckling at the absurdity of that scenario. “All right. One week, but if you haven’t told him by then, I will.” Arno sighed and nodded. “Fair enough. A lot can happen in a week.” Placing a hand on his arm, she said, “One thing I’ve learned about Zamiel is that if he likes you, he falls fast. Oh, he’ll put up a great front, pretending nothing matters, but inside he really does care. Don’t hurt him, Arno.” “I don’t want to hurt him. I just want to make sure he doesn’t break every bone in my body before we suggest settling into a trio.” Later that morning, they reached Arno’s flock’s territory. They glided toward the Convocation Clearing, which was the center of flock life. Several tall trees formed a circle around a spacious clearing. Built high up in each tree was a three-sided thatchedroof dwelling that housed Raptvyns while in their human form. Raptvyns, both in bird and human form, mingled in the area, some on the ground, others in the trees. Most were naked, since Raptvyns rarely used clothes when in their natural habitat. As Arno and Mitzi neared the clearing, many flock members chirped in greeting, happy for Arno’s return. Though it felt good to be home, Arno yearned for Zamiel’s company. They hadn’t known each other long, but Arno already felt an attachment to the lonely warrior. He was surprised to see Jindra standing with a group of hunters. Tall and sleekly muscled with long, black hair and expressive dark eyes, Jindra was exceptionally attractive.

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Arno landed close to the hunters, Mitzi beside him. They shifted to their human forms. “Hey.” Jindra smiled and clasped Arno in a bone-crushing embrace. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” “You too. I was so afraid Pepik was going to kill you.” “I thought he did kill you. Boy, I was in mourning.” Arno playfully tugged Jindra’s hair. “I’m tougher than that and I’m not your boy.” “Whatever.” Jindra chuckled and gave him another affectionate squeeze, then his smile faded and he glanced at the patch covering Arno’s eye. “Pepik gouged it out,” Arno explained, hoping to sound nonchalant. Jindra’s jaw tightened visibly. “I wish he was alive so I could kill him again.” “Forget him. He’s out of our lives. How is Parker?” “He’s fine. When you’re fully recovered, you’ll have to come visit us,” Jindra said, then turned to Mitzi. “Good to see you again.” “You too, Jindra.” She smiled. “Arno, I need to get back home. Will you be all right?” “Yes. Thanks for everything, Mitzi.” Arno hugged her and brushed her lips with a kiss. Their gazes met and he added, “We’ll talk soon.” “Very soon.” She kissed him again, then changed shape and flew off. The sun flashed off her glossy black wings as she turned a playful somersault in the sky. “Mmm,” Jindra said, casting Arno a knowing look. “Seems like you and Mitzi are a little more than friends.” “Astute as always.” “Don’t be a wiseass.” “Speaking of Mitzi, I need to talk to you in private,” Arno continued. “But first I have to let your brother know I’m back.” Jindra’s brother Vlad was the flock leader. Since Arno was responsible for most of the trade with other flocks, he often dealt directly with Vlad. “He’s in his dwelling. Come on,” Jindra said. They changed to bird form and flew to the flock leader’s dwelling a few trees away. Inside, Vlad sat on the wooden floor, in council with several members of the flock guard. Catching sight of Arno, he nodded in his direction, finished his sentence and called for a pause in the meeting. “Arno, how are you?” Vlad stood and approached. “Much better, thank you.” “I understand you were rescued by the Shunned One.” Both Vlad and Jindra stared at him, as if waiting for him to elaborate, however he had no news of interest to them regarding Zamiel.

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“I’ve arranged for another trade manager to take over your duties this week,” Vlad said. “Thank you, but I can get back to work.” “Not necessary,” Vlad stated. Jindra gently elbowed Arno in the shoulder. “Take the time. He never lets anyone slack off.” In truth, Arno was glad to have time to rest, hopefully in Zamiel’s nest. “Thank you, Sir. I can use the break.” Vlad nodded. “I have to return to the meeting. Jindra, be sure to stop by the nest before you go. Gizi will want to see you, I’m sure. She’s bored out of her mind sitting on those eggs. I’m just glad I have so much flock business. Gives me an excuse not to incubate.” “If you had a third mate, it would make life easier,” Jindra suggested. “Sage advice coming from the Raptvyn who took off for the city and mated with a human,” Vlad said. Jindra raised his eyes to the heavens. “Let’s go, Arno.” They left the dwelling and flew out of the Convocation Clearing to a lake Raptvyns called Brightwater. They sat on the bank and Jindra said, “So what did you want to talk about?” “Jindra, I think I’m in love.” “Yeah?” A smile played around Jindra’s lips and his black eyes glittered. “By the way you and Mitzi were kissing, I’d say it’s her, but knowing you like I do, I can’t believe you’d settle down with a female only.” “And you always did know me better than I knew myself. Mitzi and I want to settle down in a trio with—” Arno paused. He was about to tell his oldest friend that he was in love with a long-standing enemy of his family. “With who? Don’t keep me in suspense.” “He’s absolutely gorgeous, Jindra, but it’s more than that. He’s caring and strong. He’s the kind of mate anyone would dream about.” “So who is this winged God?” “His name is Zamiel. He’s…the Shunned One.” Jindra’s eyes widened a bit and he said, “I’ve heard stories about him. He’s a rogue.” “So are you.” “True, but he’s a mercenary, Arno. No loyalty to anyone. Do you really want to risk your heart to someone like that?” Arno’s temper bristled. “You don’t know him, so how can you judge?” “I’m not trying to judge. I’m pointing out ideas as an impartial outsider.”

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“Come on, Jindra. You’re hardly impartial. Zamiel was banished by your father. His father challenged yours. There’s natural rivalry between you.” A hard look crept into Jindra’s eyes. “You should know by now my father’s fights and his mistakes have nothing to do with me. We were too young to remember that challenge, but I did hear how he marked Zamiel and his mother with the Shunning Scars, and for the record, I think it was wrong. In my own way, I loved Rostya. He was my blood father, but I did not agree with most of his methods and he certainly never agreed with any of mine.” Sighing, Arno shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know there were many problems between you and Rostya. It’s just that Zamiel has reasons for living as a rogue, just like you do.” “All I’m saying is be careful, Arno. I know this guy saved your life, but you can’t possibly have gotten to know everything about him in a matter of days. How about Mitzi? Does she know him well?” “Yes. Quite well and she cares about him deeply.” “Then I wish you luck. Just be careful.” Jindra placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I will.”

***** Directly after leaving Arno’s flock’s territory, Mitzi flew back to Zamiel. She found him practicing aerial dives and attack positions. Upon seeing her, he changed his flight pattern and swept toward her in a mating pass. She chirped and he answered her cry as their bodies locked in flight. Gods, she loved the exhilaration of flying with him and the thrill of midair mating games. She felt the power in his body and the rough yet sensual brush of his feathers against hers. Their beaks snapped gently, mimicking a human kiss. This kind of teasing made the real thing all the more exciting. She knew when they landed that he’d take her lovingly, yet possessively. No one could mistake Zamiel’s gentleness for weakness. For a man who’d spent his life alone, he’d mastered the art of making a lover feel protected. After several more mating passes, he cawed for her to join him in his nest. Mitzi’s heart pounded with anticipation. They’d made love so many times before, yet each time always seemed better than the last. When parted, she still dreamed of being in his arms. Now those dreams included Arno. She wished he was there. His presence would make this moment complete. Patience. She needed to be patient. Again guilt nagged her. She hated keeping secrets from Zamiel and hoped the promise she’d made Arno wouldn’t destroy the trust that had taken her so long to gain. They landed in the nest and shifted to their human shape. She’d scarcely caught her breath from their playful, yet sexy, flight when he grasped her waist and gently pushed her against the side of the cave. Zamiel gazed so deeply into her eyes that her belly

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tightened with desire. The twigs and leaves on the nest wall felt rough against her bare flesh, but she didn’t mind. At this moment, there was no other place she’d rather be. His warm, calloused hands caressed her ribs and hips, then slid around to cup her buttocks. Before she could speak, he covered her mouth with a kiss that nearly stole her breath. His firm, moist lips moved against hers before he used his tongue to part them. He tasted and explored, his tongue thrusting into her mouth while he squeezed and caressed her bottom. “Mmm,” she moaned, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. Zamiel shifted his stance, using one of his long, steely legs to spread hers wide. He dipped a hand between their bodies and cupped her soft mound, kneading and stroking with his palm. His tongue tickled the top of her mouth and caressed the insides of her cheeks, then thrust against hers. Her pulse racing and body tingling with desire, Mitzi thrust against his rubbing hand. Slipping first one finger, then two, inside her slick pussy, he teased her soft, delicate flesh. When he withdrew his wet fingers and rubbed her clit in tender circles, Mitzi’s legs nearly turned to water. Gods, this man knew exactly what she wanted. Still stroking her clit, he broke the kiss and spoke against her lips, “I’ve missed this.” “Have you?” She smiled coquettishly. “Uh-huh.” He brushed her lips with another kiss, then bent and took her earlobe between his teeth. He nibbled and licked it. The tip of his tongue circled her ear and thrust partway inside, sending little ripples of delight through her. “Zamiel,” she whispered breathlessly, closing her eyes and running her hands over his powerful shoulders and back. The feel of his warm flesh, smooth in places and roughened by scars in others, inspired her arousal and affection. Only a fool would doubt his power, the raw strength and swiftness of a Raptvyn warrior, yet there was no denying his vulnerable side. He kept his innermost feelings well hidden but Mitzi glimpsed them during moments like this. When Zamiel made love, he surrendered completely. All the softness and comfort he denied himself in everyday life came through with passionate lovemaking that never failed to leave her thoroughly spent, yet utterly fulfilled. “You missed me even with Arno around?” she ventured. In spite of her rapidly building desire, she needed to know exactly how he felt about the other male. He paused in kissing her and held her gaze, his body still pinning hers to the side of the nest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “He’s cute, isn’t he?” “You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got eyes.” “Humor me, will you? Do you think he’s cute?”

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Sighing, he raised his eyes to the heavens, turned and walked to the sheltered section of the nest where he mixed powdered herbs with a mug of water, then took a long swallow. She knew what it was. An herbal remedy to prevent conception. Though used more often by females, it worked on male Raptvyns as well. When he finished, he said, “Yes, he’s very cute.” Very cute. It sounded promising. Maybe this discussion wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d imagined. She continued, “How do you feel about him?” “In what way?” A slight, yet unyielding, smile touched her lips. “You know what way.” She wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the look in his eyes. Was it annoyance or amusement? This irritated her. Usually she could read him. She should have known better than to think any subject involving emotions would be easy to discuss with Zamiel. “Drink this.” He handed her the mug. Mitzi was still weeks away from her quarterly egg laying cycle, and unless she was close to egg laying time, she couldn’t reproduce. Still, she knew how careful Zamiel was when it came to the possibility of unplanned clutches. To appease him and avoid an argument, she drank the herbs. “Mitzi, you should know by now I don’t kiss and tell,” he said in answer to her question about Arno. He used the deep, yet teasing, voice that stirred her more than she wanted to admit. He discarded the mug and once again pressed her body against the wall. Nuzzling her neck, he slid his fingers inside her while rolling his thumb over her clit. It took all her determination not to close her eyes and surrender, bringing the conversation to a halt. Instead she braced her hands against his shoulders, trying not to focus on the sensation of rock-hard muscles rippling beneath her palms. “Zamiel, I want to know what you really think of him. I want the truth.” “The truth?” This time his smile was almost sinister. “We talk much about the truth. About trust. Do you always tell me the whole truth, Mitzi?” This particular question shook her because up until now she had always been truthful with him. “Most of the time.” “And the times you’re not?” “You of all people should understand that everyone needs some privacy, but if it was something really important…” He cocked an eyebrow and she nearly squirmed. What was it about those big blue eyes that made her feel like he could practically read her mind? She directed the conversation back to her original question. “You seemed to like Arno. Do you?” He stared at her for a moment and she thought he might refuse to answer. Even worse, she nearly broke down and told the truth about Arno’s flock. She really was irritated with Arno for placing her in this position. 36

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Finally, Zamiel said, “Yes, I like him.” “Enough to maybe include him—” “In what? She stared at him. The ever-so-slight smile on his lips told her he was making this deliberately difficult. Her jaw tightened and she stared at him with intensity that matched his own. “You know what. Ask him to join us as a partner. Do you want to?” He lifted his hand and trailed his fingertips over her neck, across her collarbone and along the plump tops of her full, pendulous breasts. His gaze followed his hand and his brow furrowed in an expression of deep contemplation. Taking one of her plump brown nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled it, then swept the pad of his thumb over it again and again. He cupped her breast and lifted it as he bent, took the nipple between his lips and sucked deeply upon it. Unable to resist, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, enjoying the sensations crashing over her. Zamiel’s tongue lashed over the berrylike peak and he used his teeth to worry it until she sighed with pleasure. Finally he released her breast, braced a hand on either side of her head and thrust his pelvis against hers, trapping his thick, steely cock against their bodies. Damn, she wanted to feel him deep inside her. He was in such a strange mood today, yet it only seemed to arouse her more. “Yes,” he said. “I think a three-way fuck with Arno would be…interesting.” “Good.” “I’m sure you’ve already spoken to him about it—” “We uh—” “Good. Now I want to fuck you, Mitzi. Save the talk for later.” Before she could reply, he kissed her. His tongue thrust against hers and he buried his hands in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp. He moved back slightly, bent his knees and placed the tip of his cock against her slick pussy lips. Clinging to him tightly, Mitzi drew a deep breath as he filled her, moving with frustrating slowness. One thing about Zamiel, he usually took his time. On rare occasions, he indulged in a fast fuck, but normally he liked to thoroughly arouse her with deep kisses and lush caresses. It wasn’t unusual for him to bring her to climax three or four times before surrendering to his own passion. Zamiel liked to dominate everyone and everything, but he knew the difference between lording his power over rivals and flexing mastership with his partners. Gods, Mitzi relished that difference. Her arms tightened around him even more when he finally reached his hilt. The sensation of his hard, satin-skinned cock touching her in all the right places drove her wild with desire. She shifted her hips against him and whimpered with need. He gave a low grunt of pleasure and took her chin in his mouth, a strange, yet sexy, love bite. Then he gently sucked her lower lip. Mitzi gripped his back. She stroked the solid

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muscles and ran her fingertips down the length of his spine. Gripping his big, hard bottom, she thrust against him, more demanding this time. “Eager, are you?” he said, a virile grin on his lips. His hips pressed her harder against the wall, making it impossible for her to thrust against him. Taking her face in his hands, he stared at her, his enormous blue eyes swallowing her. “How long should I make you wait?” “Come on, Zamiel,” she said breathlessly, unable to tear her gaze from his. “It’s been almost a week since—” “A week is a long time for us, isn’t it?” “Yeah. Unless you’ve gotten some in between.” “Back to that again?” “I know. We never made a real commitment.” He drew a deep breath and his lips parted. His brow furrowed and a spark of hope kindled inside her. Something told her he was about to admit how he really felt. Then his emotional shield rose and she was once again looking into the eyes of a rogue Raptvyn. “Don’t talk about it now.” He nuzzled her neck. “Later then.” He gave a grunt that might have been yes or could have been no. At the moment she didn’t care, because he began thrusting in a steady rhythm that soon had her writhing again. Those marvelous pre-orgasmic sensations built inside her, making her pussy ache and nipples tingle. As if sensing her desperate need, he cupped her buttocks and lifted her higher. Mitzi locked her legs around his waist and gripped his neck. “Oh Zamiel, gods,” she panted, unable to think clearly enough to form any other words. With a cry of pleasure, she came. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through her. She quivered from head to toe, lost in a world of utter bliss. He pulled out of her and swept her into his arms while she still pulsed and trembled in orgasm. Her arms looped around his neck, she pressed her face against his shoulder, inhaling his delectable scent of wilderness and raw male. She licked and sucked the side of his neck, refusing to let him go even when he placed her on a blanket beneath the sheltered corner of his nest.

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Chapter Four Zamiel held Mitzi for a moment, stroking her shoulders and hair before he grasped her wrists and guided her arms from his neck. Sitting back on his heels, he stroked her breasts and brushed his fingertips over her belly, just grazing the top of the wiry black hair covering her soft mound. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Mitzi.” “Right,” she chuckled. Though his words pleased her, she knew it was probably just what humans called “pillow talk”. “What’s so funny?” She reached for his hand and squeezed it between both of hers. “Sometimes you can be sweet, Zamiel.” His lip curled and she nearly laughed at his expression. “Sweet? That’s one word that’s never applied to me.” “Maybe because so few people know you like I do.” Tilting his head to one side, he studied her carefully, as if to say you don’t know me as well as you think you do. “Come here.” She held out her arms to him and he stretched out beside her, allowing her to cling to him tightly. After a moment, he rolled atop her, bracing most of his weight on his forearms. He kissed the tip of her nose then held her gaze. “I said you’re beautiful, so you’re beautiful.” “Zami—” “Quiet,” he said sternly and kissed her. He licked and kissed his way down her neck, between her breasts and ran his tongue along the length of her belly. Sighing with pleasure, Mitzi wove her fingers through his short brown hair. Using the tip of his tongue, he teased her navel then buried his lips in her soft mound. Finally he covered her clit with his mouth and lapped the ultra-sensitive flesh with rhythmic, upward strokes that sent waves of pleasure through her entire body. Her pulse raced out of control when he began sucking the little nub of flesh, intermittently lapping with his tongue. “Zamiel, gods!” she panted and tried to writhe, but he grasped her buttocks and held her fast while he devoured her until she came long and hard under his relentless licking and sucking. This time he didn’t stop until the very last quiver of fulfillment tore through her.

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Mitzi lay panting, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. Fuck, this man was a wonderful lover. She’d nearly drifted to sleep when his body once again covered hers. His thick cock head pushed against her wet pussy and he entered her, but only part way. Probing her with shallow thrusts, he slowly rekindled her passion. Knowing he’d already pleased her a couple of times without coming himself suddenly made her eager to give him some of what he’d given her. “Zamiel, I love being with you,” she whispered in his ear, then tickled the curve of it with her tongue. A little quiver darted through him and she smiled. He loved having his ears teased. She took the lobe between her teeth and bit gently, then thrust her tongue partway into his ear. “Uhh, gods, Mitzi,” he groaned, his steely muscles tightening even more. She slid her hands down and grasped his buttocks, loving its shape and firmness. Zamiel probably had the most fantastic ass she’d ever seen…or felt. The urge to nip and lick his ass nearly overcame her, competing with the marvelous sensations his thrusting cock stirred inside her. “Zamiel, please,” she said. “Please what?” “Please let me.” She pushed against his shoulders, torn between wanting him to drive her to ecstasy and longing to satisfy her need to play with his ass. “What?” he stopped thrusting and held her gaze, his brow furrowed. “I want to give you something.” She stared at him through her lashes and flashed her most seductive grin. He returned her smile, interest sparking his eyes. He rolled onto his back, but she pushed against his shoulder. “Roll over.” “What?” “Please.” She raked her nails gently over his chest. Curling his lip, his expression part irritated, part curious, he did as she asked. Mitzi’s pulse raced with anticipation and she knelt beside him, running her hands over his hard backside. The faintest dusting of light brown hair covered his lower back, just above the indentation of his ass cheeks. She leaned down and bit first one sphere then the other. Then she licked and kissed his entire bottom, leaving not a bit of skin untouched. All the while she squeezed and teased the taut flesh, occasionally stroking the backs of his steely thighs. She knew by the groans and growls escaping his throat and the way he couldn’t keep from squirming that he was thoroughly enjoying her exploration. Finally, she parted his cheeks and thrust her tongue between them, prodding and lapping his sphincter.

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This drove him absolutely wild. He moaned and practically writhed with pleasure. Mitzi’s desire soared off the scale. She continued lapping and thrusting, feeling the ring of muscle tighten and throb against her tongue. Suddenly he rolled away, grasped her and pinned her to the blanket. Zamiel’s eyes blazed with desire, the black pupils nearly filling his pale blue irises. His chest rose and fell with exciting breathing and a pulse beat fiercely along the side of his neck. “Fucking little tease,” he said, his voice rough with passion. With a long, slow thrust he filled her to the hilt then began moving in a fast, steady rhythm that stoked her already blazing desire. Within moments, she hovered on the verge of climax. She knew by the rasp of his breath and the tremors coursing through his powerful body that he was as close as she was. Maybe closer. She’d never seen him quite so aroused and somewhere in the back of her lust-muddled mind, she knew she’d found a fantastic weapon in her arsenal of love. This guy had a major ass fetish. She wondered briefly if he could hold back long enough for her to come, then he thrust faster and harder, pushing her over the edge. “Zamiel!” she cried, clutching him so tightly she hoped she didn’t cut off his breathing. If she did, he didn’t seem to give a damn. With a roar of ultimate pleasure, he came long and hard, his body hot and tight as he surged into her. Then he collapsed atop her, their bodies damp and breathing slowly returning to normal. I love you, Zamiel, she thought amidst the drowsy aftermath. I love you so much. From where he lay beside Mitzi, Zamiel raised himself on his elbow and gazed down at her as she slept. Her full, kiss-bruised lips were parted and her full, brown breasts rose and fell with each relaxed breath. Long, thick eyelashes cast shadows on her smooth cheeks and he couldn’t resist brushing his fingertips down her face, gently, so as not to wake her. The strangest thoughts ran through his head. He had the crazy urge to ask Mitzi to mate with him permanently. Though her suggestion that Arno join their carnal games appealed to him, it also served as a reminder that if he didn’t claim her, some other Raptvyn inevitably would. It was unreasonably vain to imagine she’d wait for him forever. Not a beautiful, exciting, affectionate woman like Mitzi. Shit. He was thinking like a man in love. That’s exactly what you are, fool. It chaffed him to admit it. He’d always been so certain about how he’d live his life. He wanted no attachments. No false flock loyalty. No mates and children to suffer for any mistakes he might make. Obviously his past had driven him to a rogue’s existence, but maybe it was time to start living his own life instead of trying to avoid repeating his

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father’s mistakes. He was not his father. A fight for leadership wasn’t in his future. He’d never put flock before family. Meeting Arno and making love with him had also made him consider what he’d been missing without a male mate. Most rogues lived alone because they had no real desire for flock life. Zamiel mistrusted flock life, but if he was honest with himself, he’d admit a craving for it, or at least a longing to mate. At one time sex had been enough. He’d wanted Mitzi from the moment they’d met. She aroused him like no other woman and he couldn’t wait to fuck her, but only after making it clear he had no intention of entering a relationship. One time with her wasn’t enough and he found himself returning to her flock’s territory often. He’d told himself it was to visit his old mentor, the Raptvyn who’d raised him, but that was only a partial truth. Somehow, in the midst of all that fantastic sex, he and Mitzi became friends. They flew, swam and sometimes hunted together. Recently she’d even started spending nights in his nest. Waking up with her snuggled beside him roused warm, tender feelings he’d spent his life so carefully avoiding. Strangely, Arno stirred similar feelings. Maybe all this time with Mitzi had softened him up, but he’d never taken to anyone as quickly as he’d taken to Arno. That actually pissed him off. Both Arno and Mitzi pissed him off. He’d fallen for a couple of little liars. He could almost understand Arno’s deception. After all, they scarcely knew each other and he had no reason to be loyal. But Mitzi… Knowing she was lying to him actually hurt, especially since she knew how he felt about Arno’s flock. He knew Arno came from his ancestral flock. A few times the injured Raptvyn had slipped into delirium and talked. A lot. So Zamiel knew exactly where his flock came from and it wasn’t north into Canada, but right here in the Adirondacks. Zamiel had given both Arno and Mitzi several chances to tell him the truth, but the two stuck to their lie. Obviously the Shunned One was as unwelcome as ever in his ancestral flock, even though Rostya was dead. He should have destroyed that bastard when he had the chance, but he’d let revenge slip through his fingers. Clenching his teeth, Zamiel rolled onto his back and stared up at the clear blue sky. His sense of honor had kept him from destroying Rostya even when he had the chance. His father had instilled that sense of honor before his death and Zamiel’s mentor had reinforced it throughout his life. Oh, he’d come close to giving in to the anger festering inside him. He could have been rid of it once and for all, but instead it continued eating away at him. Even sparing Rostya’s life hadn’t earned him a portion of respect from his flock. Their contempt for him, their hatred, was what kept Arno from telling him the truth. And Mitzi obviously felt a stronger bond with Arno than with Zamiel or else she wouldn’t be sticking to the blond Raptvyn’s lie.

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Her suggestion about the three of them getting together was a joke, just like Arno’s promise to return. No matter how much they’d enjoyed sucking each other’s cocks, there was no way Arno would enter a relationship with the Shunned One. Unless he acted quickly, he would probably lose Mitzi to Arno. This affronted him on several grounds. The thought of losing her to another male grated on his competitive nature. Even worse was how much he’d miss her if she broke off their relationship. The real kick in the ass was that he was so attracted to his rival for her love. If he wasn’t the Shunned One, he could do what a normal Raptvyn in his position would do. He’d mate with them both. That option was impossible for a million reasons, starting and ending with the fact they were both liars. His thoughts were interrupted by a shrill cry from another Raptvyn. He recognized the voice of Wies, a hunter from a flock led by a Raptvyn named Carl. It was about time. Zamiel had almost thought they’d decided not to include him in the hunt this year. He changed to his bird form and left the nest, careful not to wake Mitzi. Outside, he and Wies, a large black and white Raptvyn, swept past each other, chirping their conversation. The hunt would start in the morning and Carl wanted Zamiel to spend the night in their Convocation Clearing so he could hold a hunters’ meeting. Zamiel replied he would be there later that afternoon and Wies flew east toward his flock’s territory. Back in his nest, Zamiel, in his man form, squatted beside Mitzi and gently shook her shoulder. Her lovely onyx eyes opened and a tender smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Hey.” “Sorry to wake you,” he said, trailing a fingertip over her full, enticing lower lip. “I have to leave soon for the hunt with Carl’s flock.” She sat up, her smile fading. “How soon?” “Within the hour.” “I’ll get out of your way—” “You don’t have to. Stay as long as you want.” “When will you be back?” “The hunt starts tomorrow and lasts two days, so I’ll be back the next morning.” “I’ll miss you.” Mitzi slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, her lush breasts pressing against his chest and her smooth, muscular legs tight around his waist. She felt so good that he considered getting in another quickie before leaving. “I’ll miss you too.” He kissed her hair and caressed her shoulders. “See you when you get back?” “Of course.”

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“If you’re getting paid with meat from the hunt, I can be here the morning you get back to help you smoke it.” He grinned. “I’m bargaining for pre-smoked. I get less, but it saves time. I don’t mind hunting it, but smoking it is a pain in the ass.” “Zamiel?” A sultry look stole into her large, slanted eyes and she used the tip of her tongue to moisten her lips. Why did she have to be so fucking gorgeous? “Yeah?” “You don’t have to leave right now, do you?” she whispered against his lips. “I said within the hour.” “Then you have time for—” “Yeah.” He guided her onto her back. One hand caressing her thigh and the other buried in her hair, he kissed her. He ran his tongue over her lips, loving their soft plumpness. He gently bit her lower lip and sucked on it. Everything about her, from her feminine, yet woodsy, scent to the warm, spicy taste of her lips, aroused him so much that already he was hard and aching for her. Reaching between them, he cupped her mound and kneaded. The cushion of dark, curly hair tickled his palm. He dipped his fingers into her pussy. She was hot and wet. So delicious. He pushed his fingers in deeper, exploring her delicate flesh until she squirmed with need. Slowly he withdrew his fingers and stroked her clit. Soft moans escaped her throat, arousing him even more. Touching her was like sweet torment. He longed to plunge into her, and though he’d said he had time for a quickie, he wanted to make sure she thoroughly enjoyed it. Mitzi reached down and curled her fist around his cock, stroking him lightly while he rolled his thumb over her clit. She tightened her grip on him and he groaned with desire. “Zamiel, please,” she murmured, shifting her hips in an attempt to get even closer to him. Sitting back on his heels, he guided her legs around his waist, pushed his cock partway in and thrust in a steady rhythm while stroking her clit with his fingers. She closed her eyes and arched her body in pleasure. “Oh Zamiel,” she breathed, stroking her own breasts, pinching the stiff brown nipples between her long, slender fingers. It took only a few minutes for her to come. When the first ripples struck, he covered her body with his, his cock completely filling her quivering sheath. With several swift thrusts he exploded. His eyes closed, he surged into her hot, welcoming body, then collapsed on top her. For several moments they rested, relishing the scent and feel of each other. Finally Zamiel rose and lightly caressed the curve of her belly. 44

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“I need to go,” he said softly. “I know.” She sat up and kissed him, then ran her thumb over his lips. “See you soon?” “Yes.” He kissed her forehead then her mouth. Smiling, she stood. Her arms outstretched, gorgeous breasts lifted and toned thighs taut, she drew a deep breath and, as she exhaled, shifted to bird form. She flew out of the nest, chirping her goodbye, and headed home. Zamiel sighed. The fun was over. Time to go to work. He changed to his bird form and, after a quick dip in the lake, headed for Carl’s flock.

***** Still tired from his injuries, Arno spent that night and the next at the Convocation Clearing. In the morning, after notifying Vlad that he’d be away for the remainder of the week, Arno headed for Zamiel’s nest. Now that his field of vision had changed due to his missing eye, flying still felt odd, yet he was becoming accustomed to it. His entire body tingled with anticipation of seeing the sexy rogue again. He could almost taste Zamiel’s lips and feel the warmth of his lean, hard body. Arno’s fingers itched to stroke Zamiel’s broad, lightly furred chest and his tongue longed to tease his cock. Most of all, he ached to feel Zamiel’s sure, yet gentle, hands stroking his shaft and his firm, wet lips on his cock head. Maybe this time when they met, Zamiel would take Arno like he wanted to be taken, grasping his hips and filling his ass with his pulsing erection. Nearing Zamiel’s nest, Arno chirped a greeting. When Zamiel didn’t reply, Arno flew closer. Though he didn’t wish to invade his lover’s privacy, he wanted to know if he simply wasn’t home or if he was ignoring him for some reason. The nest appeared empty, but Arno couldn’t see beneath the sheltered section. What if Zamiel was sick or injured? Without a flock, he could be in need of help and no one would know. Not hesitating a moment longer, Arno swooped into the nest and glanced around. Satisfied it was empty, he decided to settle into a nearby tree to wait for Zamiel’s return. Dusk approached with still no sign of Zamiel, so Arno flew to Mitzi’s nest, hoping she might know where he was. This time when he chirped a greeting, Mitzi replied and he dipped into her nest. Small, yet well built, the nest could comfortably house two adult Raptvyns. In her bird form, Mitzi sat with her talons tucked under her and her feathers fluffed as if she’d been grooming. Arno changed to his human form and she followed his lead. They embraced and he kissed her full, soft lips. Kissing her was much different than kissing Zamiel, yet somehow just as pleasant. “How are you feeling?” she asked. 45

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“Better, thanks. I’ve been waiting for Zamiel at his nest, but he’s not there. Do you have any idea—” “He’s on a hunt with Carl’s flock, but said he’d be back tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to spend the night here if you want. I had plans to see him tomorrow anyway, so we can fly to his nest together.” “Sounds good,” he said, though inside he was a bit disappointed. Not that he didn’t like the idea of being with Mitzi and Zamiel together, but he’d hoped for some time alone with the rogue. He wanted to try approaching the subject of his flock and see how Zamiel handled the mention of them. “What’s wrong?” Mitzi asked. She always seemed to know him as well as he knew himself. Better at times. “Nothing.” Grinning, she scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Liar. Come here and sit down. Talk to me.” She spread a blanket, dropped onto it and patted the space beside her. “Come on.” Arno sat, draping an arm around her and tugging her to his side. Resting her head against his shoulder, she ran her fingertips over his ribs and belly. Her gentle caress felt good, as did the warmth of her body so close to his. “What were you thinking about?” she prodded. “Coming up with a plan to tell Zamiel the truth, I hope.” Wrinkling his nose, he glanced down at her. “Are you a mind reader?” “So you plan to tell him in the morning.” “Uh…not exactly. I was going to feel him out tomorrow.” “You mean feel him up,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Arno, you promised—” “I promised I’d tell him within the week. This needs to be handled carefully or it could end in disaster, specifically him plucking out my other eye.” Mitzi shook her head and sighed. “He’s not going to do that. I asked him what he thought of the three of us getting together and—” “You what?” Her eyes widened a bit in genuine surprise. “I thought you said you wanted to give it a try with him.” “Yeah, but I thought we’d at least approach him together.” “I’m sorry, but the suspense was killing me. I had to know how he felt about it.” “And?” “He seemed to like the idea, but it made me very uncomfortable not telling him the truth about you. Hey! I have an idea.” Arno wasn’t sure he liked the expression on her face. He was almost afraid to ask what her idea was. Still, he forced himself to say, rather cautiously, “What is it?”

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“Why don’t I tell Zamiel about your flock? That way if he explodes, you’ll be out of hitting distance. Not that I think he’s going to hit you, but you seem to have it in your head that he’ll fly into a blind rage.” “No way. If he’s half the person I think he is, then he deserves to hear the truth from me. I’m still a Raptvyn, Mitzi, not a chicken, even if Pepik damn near plucked me like one.” He felt heat rise in his face and his pulse quickened at the pain and humiliation of what Pepik had done to him. Usually Arno was a pretty easygoing guy, but the attack had wounded his male pride. He didn’t want to set himself up for another failure against a more powerful bird. Though he didn’t consider himself a warrior and had never wanted to be one, lately he’d only been able to think about learning how to defend himself better. In the bedroom he didn’t mind submitting to powerful rogues like Zamiel and Jindra, but outside he wanted respect. Again she looked stunned. “I’ve never called you a chicken. No chicken would have survived an attack by Pepik.” Arno’s jaw tightened, as did his grip on her. “I’m going to see to it nothing like that ever happens to me again.” “What do you mean?” “It’s not important.” He didn’t want to go into details, to rant and rave like a child threatening to deal with the local bully “next time”. Humans had an old, but true, saying—actions speak louder than words. He wasn’t going to talk about becoming a better warrior. Arno intended to do it. “It sounds important,” she pressed and moved away slightly. Cupping his cheek, she tried to force him to meet her gaze, but he refused to turn. “Arno, please look at me.” Slowly he faced her. The concern in her gleaming black eyes both touched and annoyed him. No doubt Mitzi cared about him, probably even loved him, but she worried about him like he was a fledgling. “Forget about it, Mitzi. We have other issues to deal with. Once I feel I can trust Zamiel to judge me on my own merit and not as one with my flock, then I’ll tell him the truth.” “I know he has a quick temper,” she said. “I know he has a tough exterior, but that’s because he’s had to. You’re misjudging him if you think he’ll harm you because of your flock.” “That’s not all I’m worried about. If he hates my flock as much as I think he does, he could cut off our relationship without getting to know me. There’s something between us. Something strong, just like with you and me, but if he turns me away for spite before really getting to know me, the plans you and I talked about are worthless.” Mitzi drew a deep breath and released it slowly. Finally she shook her head and met his gaze. “Maybe you’re right about that. Zamiel has a firm set of rules he lives by

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and wanting nothing to do with your flock is at the top of the list. On the other hand, I know he likes you, because otherwise he never would have agreed to a threesome.” “Then you’ll stick to your promise and let me tell him in my own way?” “But within the week.” Arno raised his eyes to the heavens. She was one stubborn lady. “Within the week.” “All right, but if he suspects we’re keeping secrets from him, it could destroy our relationship as surely as him knowing what flock you come from.” “I know,” Arno sighed. “Don’t think that doesn’t worry me, but by the end of the week, this will all be over.” “Or just beginning. Let me tell you something about Zamiel, loving him is like loving a force of nature. You never know what the hell is going to happen next. I’ve spent more nights worrying about him while he’s off fighting some war for a flock that isn’t even his or hunting bears that could rip a Raptvyn in half with a single paw swipe. He lives on the edge and doesn’t let anyone get close easily.” “Nothing worth having is easily gotten.” A slight smile tugged at her lips. “Let’s get some rest. We’re going to need it.” “All right.” Arno lay down, tugging Mitzi with him. He reached for another blanket and draped it over them. By now night had fallen and the bottom of the nest was dark. Only their keen Raptvyn vision allowed them to see clearly. Resting her head against his chest, Mitzi used her fingertips to draw random shapes on his ribs. It tickled and he flinched a bit. Her hand moved downward, caressing his hip, then his thigh. Arno closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations. This was new. He and Mitzi had kissed before, but this was the first real sexual overture either had ever initiated. It was surprisingly welcome, especially knowing that soon Zamiel would be joining them. His presence right now would make this already pleasant night absolutely perfect. Zamiel seemed to be the missing piece to their lives. The last thing Arno wanted was to lose him, especially to blind hatred over events that had nothing to do with him—or with Zamiel anymore, for that matter. Reaching down, Arno gently placed his hand over Mitzi’s and guided it to his inner thigh. “That’s so nice,” she whispered in his ear. Her breath tickled him and he turned, kissing her cheek, then her lips. He rested a hand on her rounded hip and stroked the smooth flesh. With her sleek huntress’s body, Mitzi was the ultimate combination of woman and warrior. Though Arno preferred fucking men, every now and then a woman struck his fancy. Mitzi did far more than that. Not only did he find her beautiful, but he cared for her deeply. They’d been friends for so long that, until recently, he’d thrust aside any desire he might have felt for her. Now that they intended to mate, it seemed natural for them to explore a more physical side of their relationship.

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His hand traveled up her ribs and cupped one of her plump breasts. He brushed his thumb over the flat nipple, circling and teasing it until it hardened to a delicate peak. Licking his lips, he moved slightly downward, just enough for him to capture her stiff brown nipple with his lips. Ever-so-gently, he took it between his teeth and used his tongue to tickle the very tip of it. Mitzi drew a deep breath and arched closer to him. Inspired by her reaction, he circled the nipple with his tongue, licking faster. She gasped and quivered. Arno’s cock stiffened and he turned slightly so it brushed against her. As if reading his mind, she curled her fist around his shaft and pumped. He hardened so much the swollen head poked above the foreskin. His belly clenched and heartbeat quickened as she ran her thumb over the head and along the sensitive underside. Grunting with pleasure, he began licking her nipple faster. “Ah,” she moaned, stroking his cock to the same rhythm that he sucked her nipple. “Arno.” “Umm,” he replied, too lost in sensation to bother with words. His mouth still busy with her breast, he moved his hand lower, wanting to know more about the pleasures of this lovely woman’s body. “Oh yes,” she breathed when he cupped her soft mound, the heel of his palm rubbing her clit while he slid first one, then two fingers into her pussy. Gods, she felt hot, slick and incredibly soft. He glanced down at his hand and withdrew his fingers from her pussy. Slowly he slid the wet digits over her clit. Up and down. Up and down. “Ah. Arno, oh please, don’t stop,” she panted, tightening her grip on his cock and stroking faster. Frustratingly wonderful pre-orgasmic sensations rolled over him, tightening his belly. His cock throbbed and ached in her grasp and he tightened his buttocks, his hips thrusting and breath coming fast. “I won’t if you won’t,” he breathed. Mitzi smiled and met his gaze, then closed her eyes and arched her head back as he rubbed faster. She followed his lead, pumping in spite of how tremors of pure lust coursed through her body. Arno tugged on her nipple with his teeth and rubbed her stiff little clit with blinding speed. With a drawn-out cry, she came, panting and throbbing against his rubbing fingers. Still her hand never left him as she flung him headlong into an orgasm that shot his come over both their writhing bodies.

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After a moment, they calmed and lay side-by-side, their hands still resting upon each other. Finally Arno summoned the energy to push himself to his hands and knees and retrieve a cloth from a basket in the corner. Mitzi’s eyes opened and she watched him tenderly wipe his cream off her stomach and breasts. When he’d finished and was about to clean himself, she stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Let me,” she said, taking the cloth from him and wiping him with the same care he’d shown her. She tossed the cloth in a laundry basket then snuggled beside him. Again he covered them with the blanket and closed his eyes. “Good night, Arno,” she said, her voice sleepy. “Good night, Mitz,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. It took a short time for him to drift to sleep, and in those moments, he wondered what Zamiel was doing and if he realized how much he belonged here with them.

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Chapter Five The early morning sun brightened the cloudless sky and Zamiel breathed deeply, enjoying a relaxing flight after two days of intense hunting with Carl’s flock. This year had been especially profitable, since Carl had gotten cheap and only hired two mercenaries to join the hunt. Zamiel planned to return in a couple of days, after the meat was smoked, to collect his payment. Moving it would be a pain in the ass and take several trips, but it was worth the effort. Flying over the valley, Zamiel caught a particularly strong updraft and let it carry him. It felt so good, especially to an enormous bird such as a Raptvyn. Without the right wind conditions, flying could be hard work for creatures of their size. Unlike many species of real birds, Raptvyn males tended to be larger and heavier than females. Mitzi, for example, though tall, weighed far less than Zamiel and Arno. Approaching his nest, Zamiel detected movement in the trees on the mountainside then Mitzi and Arno rose in the air, chirping their welcomes. Zamiel replied and swooped toward them. Though he had plans to see Mitzi that day, he hadn’t expected her to be waiting for him and he’d never imagined Arno would actually return. A warm, happy feeling coursed through him upon seeing them. Out of habit, he tried to bury it, but it was too strong. The most he could do was keep his composure and not act too happy, even though he felt like turning somersaults in the sky. One thing he usually didn’t enjoy was returning to an empty nest. It got lonely, especially after watching Carl’s flock interact with each other. He was an outsider there, a mercenary, but he observed the closeness of flock members, especially mated trios, and felt longing and a hint of envy. After making several playful passes at each other in the sky, the three Raptvyns dove into Zamiel’s nest and changed to their human form. Mitzi embraced him tightly while Arno stood away, his hands folded behind his back and his blue eye fixed on them. Zamiel wrapped his arms around Mitzi, holding her close. Her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest and the delicate scent of wildflowers clung to her skin and hair. Her scent had always been a source of comfort. Other than his mentor, she was the only person he fully trusted, but now that trust was tainted because she had chosen to side with Arno in his lie. He clung to the almost childish hope that now they’d tell him about Arno’s flock. Trust and respect him enough to be honest. Maybe he was asking too much. After all,

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Arno didn’t know him very well, but Mitzi had no excuse. She was the one who had invaded his life, luring him into trusting her. Even worse, he’d come to love her and because of that it hurt knowing she withheld the truth from him. That was bullshit. No one had ever lured Zamiel into anything. He’d wanted to be with her. He enjoyed her company, liked hunting and playing with her and loved fucking her. Just because he’d been fool enough to obey his heart instead of his mind wasn’t exactly her fault. And Arno. The attraction he felt for him, the protective instincts that rose within him whenever he saw the blond Raptvyn, was just pathetic. His gaze locked with Arno’s and the blond’s slanted blue eye widened a bit before he glanced away, as if he sensed the turn Zamiel’s thoughts had taken. If he suspected Arno knew what he was thinking, there was no doubt Mitzi did. She stepped back slightly, her hands resting on his waist and stared into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” Zamiel kissed her deeply, burying a hand in her hair. After a moment he felt her melt against him and that’s when he stepped away. Mitzi stumbled a bit and spun on her heel, her gaze following Zamiel who approached Arno and placed his hands on his shoulders. Though Arno wasn’t large, he had broad shoulders and his slender body was pleasingly hard. “I didn’t expect to see you again,” Zamiel said. “I said I’d be back, didn’t I?” Arno replied. Nodding, Zamiel leaned closer and kissed the blond. Arno responded with possessive sweeps of his tongue. His hands entwined in Zamiel’s hair and he thrust his pelvis against him, yet didn’t lean into him as Mitzi had. Zamiel nearly smiled. Arno wasn’t quite as soft as he looked. “We wanted to talk to you,” Mitzi said. Zamiel stepped away, his back to both his guests and glanced skyward. “About?” There was a pause before Mitzi responded. “You know. About the three of us together.” “In what way?” Zamiel continued. This wasn’t the time to let them know how much her suggestion appealed to him, not while they continued to keep secrets from him. Yes, he had every intention of fucking the two of them together, but he wasn’t fool enough to bare his heart or become emotionally involved. “I’m sure you know what way,” Arno said. “Mitzi told me she already discussed it with you.” Turning to him, a slight smile touched Zamiel’s lips. At the moment he felt lascivious, sinister. He sensed the intensity of their attraction to him, yet knew he could restrain his own feelings for them, at least outwardly. They were flock birds, accustomed to cliques and the company of others. They would bend more easily to gain 52

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companionship. Zamiel’s years alone had given him a strength, an independence, not usually found in members of a flock. They might think they were outsmarting him, but he was the one in control. The dominant bird in a trio wielded tremendous power, yet also had a great responsibility to his partners. If they showed him the respect and honesty he deserved, there was nothing Zamiel wouldn’t do for his partners. If he gave them his heart, he would die for them without hesitation. On the other hand, if he believed they were trying to manipulate his affection, they would find him to be as powerful an enemy as he was a friend. At the moment he wasn’t pleased with their lies, but was curious about why they would bother associating with him if they didn’t have a genuine interest. Perhaps Arno needed to trust him first before he revealed his roots. When it came to his ancestral flock, Zamiel could be overly zealous in his hatred. Perhaps his ranting had frightened Arno. Though he didn’t think the blond a weakling, he wasn’t exactly warrior material either. Arno looked like the sort who would rather avoid a fight if he could help it. Zamiel decided to play along with them for now, to try making Arno feel comfortable in his presence and see just how long Mitzi intended to lie. Then he would decide what to do about them. Part of him said to forget them both. He could find other partners to fuck. Ones who didn’t put his heart at risk, yet he didn’t want to. He loved fucking Mitzi and Arno was hotter than the midday sun. Telling himself he would allow them to remain in his company because they were fantastic lovers, he vowed to keep his guard up. If they gave him a reason to believe they had ulterior motives, they would learn just how harsh a rogue Raptvyn could be. “What’s the matter, Zamiel?” Mitzi asked in a teasing tone. She stepped closer to him and ran a hand down his back. “Wondering if you can keep us both satisfied?” He turned and his gaze swept her from head to toe. “Actually, I was wondering if you two would be enough to satisfy me.” Both Mitzi and Arno grinned. “You left yourself open for that one, Mitz,” Arno said, walking toward them, his arms folded across his chest. “However, I’m only an innocent bystander.” “No, you just look like a fledgling.” Zamiel swept a hand lightly across Arno’s smooth cheek. “But underneath you’re hardly innocent.” “Does that mean you’re still open to a trio?” Mitzi asked. Smiling slightly, yet with an arrogance exclusive to dominant males, he wrapped an arm around each of them and tugged them closer. Zamiel guided them to the blankets spread on the sheltered part of the nest. Mitzi and Arno stretched out, making themselves comfortable. He raised his arm and Mitzi

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cuddled against him, her hand stroking his lean chest. Zamiel glanced at the bowl atop the wooden supply trunk and saw it was filled with water. “It’s fresh,” Arno said. “I filled it this morning.” Nodding, Zamiel reached for another container of the birth control herbs and mixed a mug full. He drank deeply, then offered some to Mitzi and Arno. “What is it?” Arno asked. “Prevents conception, even though I don’t think it’s Mitzi’s egg laying time right now.” “I’m finished for this season,” she replied. “Still, it can’t hurt to be safe,” Zamiel said. Mitzi and Arno both drank, then he passed the empty mug to Zamiel, who discarded it and reached for a container of lightly scented oil, a Raptvyn aphrodisiac. He placed the container and bowl near the sleeping area and coated his hands with the oil. His lovers looked so enticing, Mitzi’s luscious brown skin against Arno’s pale gold. Their heads touched and their hair mingled, a lovely combination of black and blond. His hands thoroughly coated with oil, he grasped each of their ankles and began massaging up their calves. Mitzi often shaved with a straight razor, so her long, firm legs felt incredibly smooth to the touch. Smiling slightly, Zamiel recalled how many arguments they’d had when she’d dulled his razors using them on her legs. She pacified him by letting him watch her shave and, even better, allowing him to shave her—an incredibly erotic experience. In contrast, Arno’s legs were dusted with golden hair, though also long and muscular. Reaching their kneecaps, he nudged Arno and Mitzi apart so he could kneel between them and touch far more intimate parts of their tempting bodies. He pushed down Arno’s foreskin, grasped his cock and stroked while his other hand cupped Mitzi’s soft mound and kneaded gently. Unlike many males who preferred sating their lust as quickly as possible, claiming their mates with fast, hard thrusts, Zamiel relished the journey as much as the arrival at his destination. Now more than ever, he wanted to take his time. No one had ever aroused him as much as Mitzi and Arno. The thought of having the two of them together made his heart pound and cock tingle with desire. As he stroked his lovers, Mitzi caressed his forearm and Arno reached out and began stroking his staff. Pleasure darted through Zamiel and his cock swelled even more. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly while running his thumb over Arno’s cock head. Arno did the same to Zamiel’s staff. Every stroke of Zamiel’s hand or caress of his fingertips Arno copied so their mutual stimulation became a sensual game.

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To Zamiel’s other side, Mitzi rubbed her thumb in tender circles over his inner wrist. That subtle caress partnered so well with the more intense stimulation of Arno’s hand on his cock. Mitzi’s hand moved to Zamiel’s thigh. Her fingertips lightly stroked, then she kneaded the muscles. The hair covering her mound created a sensual cushion against Zamiel’s palm. He slid his finger partway into her hot, lust-dampened pussy, then rolled his slick fingertip over her clit. “Zamiel,” she breathed. “That feels so good.” “I know something that will feel even better,” he replied, a lustful smile tugging at his lips. Turning to Arno, he said, “I’ll get back to you in a minute.” He bent and ran his tongue over the blond’s swollen cock head, then focused his attention on Mitzi. He grasped her legs, hoisted them over his shoulders and covered her clit with his mouth. Moaning with pleasure, she buried her hands in his hair, gripping his scalp. Her hips thrust against him and he held her firmly by the buttocks. His eyes closed, he gently sucked and licked her clit, then thrust his tongue deep into her pussy and explored the soft, wet flesh. Her delicious, musky scent filled him and her soft cries of passion sent his heart beating out of control. He loved how she writhed in ecstasy, her muscles taut as her pleasure soared to almost unbearable heights. Arno covered Zamiel’s back with kisses. Delight coursed through him when the blond ran his tongue down his spine and used his hands to stroke his sides. His lips still pressed to Zamiel’s back, Arno reached around his waist and grasped his staff. Intense pleasure broke over Zamiel with every stroke of Arno’s fist. His thumbnail scraped over the crown of Zamiel’s erection ever so faintly, sending a quiver of raw need through his entire body. Then he used his fingertip to tease the underside of his cock head. Arno seemed to know exactly what Zamiel wanted, how he love to be touched. Between the blond’s caresses and Mitzi’s hot pussy so wet and pulsing against his tongue, Zamiel had to make a conscious effort to keep from exploding in orgasm right then and there. Crying out in rapture, Mitzi came, her hands tight on his hair, buttocks tense in his grip and her delicate flesh throbbing in climax. Before the last pulsation rolled through her, Zamiel lowered her legs and filled her with a long, slow thrust, her sheath squeezing him, tempting him. “Ah, fuck, this feels…” Zamiel paused, finishing his sentence with a throaty groan of pleasure. He pumped in a steady rhythm, shallow thrusts at first that slowly rekindled her ebbing desire. As Zamiel claimed her, Arno continued fondling him from behind. Teasing his ass with feathery touches and grasping his balls from behind. Zamiel’s pulse raced out of control. His head arched and his breathing quickened as he thrust faster and deeper. He knew by the way Mitzi moaned and thrashed that she 55

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was quickly approaching a second orgasm. Though he wanted to explode with her, he also wanted to fuck Arno. If he could retain his self-control just a bit longer… “Zamiel, gods!” Mitzi cried, coming again even harder than before. Buried deep inside her, he paused, his heart pumping so hard it echoed in his ears. The pulsing of her velvety flesh around his cock was almost enough to push him over the edge, but somehow he managed to hold back long enough for her to go limp beneath him, completely sated. He opened his eyes and admired her for a moment, loving her expression of total bliss as she rested, her eyes closed and a slight yet lovely smile on her lips. Zamiel withdrew his rock-hard cock from her and glanced at Arno, who sat on his heels, watching them with a lustful gleam in his eyes and a hand curled around his steely shaft. Reaching for a cloth, Zamiel held Arno’s gaze, knowing he must look as aroused as the blond. He quickly dipped the cloth in the bowl of water, washed his cock, then reached for the oil, coating it while inhaling the stimulating aroma. “Get over here,” Zamiel said to Arno, his voice rough with passion. “Your turn.” Arno didn’t hesitate for a second. He crawled to Zamiel on all fours, grasped his oil slicked cock and pumped. “Do much of that and I won’t last long,” Zamiel breathed. He’d intended to take them very slowly, but it seemed that was too much to ask for their first time together. They couldn’t wait to get a taste of each other. Zamiel grasped Arno’s waist and hauled him close. On his knees, Arno lowered his forearms to the ground. He dropped his head between them and moaned as Zamiel used fingers slick with scented oil to tease his sphincter to readiness. Slowly he filled Arno’s ass with his cock. He was so fucking tight and the sight of him kneeling there was so damn hot that Zamiel marveled at his own willpower. He could shoot his load right then and there. He pumped his hips, his grip snug on Arno’s waist. Mitzi opened her eyes and rolled onto her side, her head propped on her hand and an expression of raw desire on her face. “You two look hot as hell,” she murmured and edged closer so she could fondle Arno’s cock and balls while Zamiel took him. Arno groaned, his muscles tensing and a light sweat breaking out on his body. Zamiel could just imagine how good it felt for him—claimed from behind by one lover while stroked and teased by another. Mitzi changed her position so she could stroke her clit while continuing to work Arno’s cock. This was so fucking hot that Zamiel couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He drove into Arno faster, though he recalled Arno’s preference for gentle handling and took care not to fuck him too hard. Controlling his movements only made the final explosion better. Mitzi was the first to come. Her fingers flew between her legs, stimulating her greedy little nub until she gasped and trembled with fulfillment. All the while she never

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stopped caressing Arno’s shaft, but her pace followed the speeding rhythm of the fingers on her clit. The fast movements flung Arno into orgasm. “Ah, fuck!” he gasped, his ass clenching on Zamiel’s cock and driving him over the edge. Zamiel’s entire body stiffened as he came, his head thrown back and a bellow of pure animal pleasure on his lips. The trio collapsed into a heap of hot, sated flesh, the scent of their lust and echo of their labored breathing heavy on the air. Mitzi was the first to stir. She opened her eyes, lifted her head from Zamiel’s back and kissed his nape. Glancing at Arno, she found him staring at her with his calm blue eye. They smiled at each other and she brushed a lock of hair from his face. “I have to return to Carl’s flock tomorrow to pick up my payment,” Zamiel said. “It’ll take a few trips.” “Not if we help you,” Arno said. “Good idea,” Mitzi added. “Thanks,” Zamiel said. “But you don’t have to—” “What are friends for?” Arno shrugged. “Besides, I still owe you big time for saving my life.” “Not only that, the sooner you move your goods, the sooner we can get back to more exciting activities.” Mitzi nuzzled his shoulder. Zamiel rolled onto his back and tugged Mitzi atop him. Their legs entwined and she met his gaze. “I forgot to tell you earlier, I have to return to my flock the day after tomorrow. My hunting committee meets this week.” “How long?” “Three days. Then I’ll be back.” “What about you?” Zamiel glanced at Arno. “How long are you staying?” “I have a week off, but I wouldn’t intru—” “You’re more than welcome.” Zamiel’s offer to Arno took Mitzi by surprise. It had taken her forever to get an invitation from him. She wasn’t crazy with jealousy, just a bit envious that he’d taken to the handsome blond so quickly. “Thanks.” Arno ran a hand through Zamiel’s short brown hair. “I’d like to stay.” And I can’t wait to get back, Mitzi thought. Maybe giving the men some time alone would be a good thing. Arno might work up the nerve to tell Zamiel the truth. Moments later, the trio decided to change to their bird form and fly to the lake for a swim. After frolicking in the water for an hour, they returned to the nest for a meal, then went on a flight.

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They spent the rest of the day helping Zamiel make repairs on his nest, though she and Arno ended up gathering branches instead of doing the actual work. When it came to architecture, Zamiel was a horrible control freak. Dusk fell and they settled into the nest for the night since they’d be leaving early to reach Carl’s flock at dawn. They figured it would take two flights with the three of them carrying the smoked meat. That meant they’d be finished by midday. Beneath the sheltered area of the nest, they slept cuddled together in their human form, covered with blankets. Zamiel slept between Mitzi and Arno, their legs and arms draped over him. The males drifted off a few moments after lying down, but sleep eluded Mitzi. Her mind spun with thoughts of the future. She couldn’t imagine being without Zamiel or Arno. Deep inside she knew they were meant to be together. If only everything was settled, with Arno telling Zamiel about his flock and Zamiel accepting a permanent mating with them. She kept reminding herself to have patience. Difficult when she wanted a mating ritual so badly. And nestlings. None of them were getting any younger. Usually by their age, many Raptvyns already had several clutches. They hadn’t even had one yet. Speaking of clutches, she wondered if Arno would want blood children or if he preferred Zamiel to be the blood father of all their children? Mitzi would accept either way. It was just one of the many things they’d need to discuss. Mitzi closed her eyes and tried to calm her mind. She focused on the gentle wind blowing through the trees and the soothing warmth of her partners’ bodies. Before she realized it, sleep claimed her as well.

***** The following afternoon, once they’d flown the sacks of smoked meat from Carl’s flock’s territory to Zamiel’s nest, the trio went for a swim in the lake. Afterward they stretched out on a big, sun-warmed rock in the middle of the water to relax. Lying on his back, his eye closed, Arno enjoyed the sound of lapping waves and the sensation of the summer breeze across his body. Knowing Zamiel and Mitzi rested beside him provided a feeling of comfort and he nearly drifted to sleep. “Doesn’t that cloud look like a bear catching fish in a river?” Mitzi asked softly. “Hmm?” Arno replied drowsily. “That cloud. The big one over there.” He opened his eye and glanced at the enormous white puff overhead. “I guess. It reminds me of a charging bull. Maybe it’s mating season in cloudville.” Snorting with laughter, Mitzi said, “Only you would see something like that.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” He raised himself on his elbows to stare at her over Zamiel who lay on his back between them, his eyes closed and breathing even. Most likely he wasn’t asleep, but ignoring them. 58

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“It means you’re a horny little rascal.” “Excuse me, but I think you’re the reason poor Zamiel is unconscious here.” “I’m not unconscious,” Zamiel muttered. Mitzi and Arno exchanged knowing grins. Like most dominants, he couldn’t ignore even the tiniest insult to his male pride. “What do you think it looks like?” Mitzi asked. Cracking open one eye, Zamiel turned to her. “What’s the point of trying to decide what the clouds look like? In a few minutes, the wind will blow them in another direction anyway.” She raised her eyes to the heavens. “It’s called using your imagination. And making conversation.” “So what do you see?” Arno asked, curious. He was quickly learning Zamiel was one of those males who, as humans put it, wasn’t in touch with his feminine side. Arno had spent some time living among humans, studying them as part of a special flock program. One thing he’d learned was that humans placed far too much emphasis on sexual stereotypes. Though Raptvyns had distinct gender roles, they were less apt to obsess about “masculine” and “feminine” personality traits. Still, Arno couldn’t help finding Zamiel’s extreme virility attractive. “It looks like a giant beehive,” Zamiel said. “Makes me hungry.” Both Mitzi and Arno wrinkled their noses. “Beehives make you hungry?” Arno asked. “No, but honey does.” “All right. That makes sense,” Arno admitted. “I like honey,” Mitzi added. “I love honey.” Zamiel cupped her cheek. “The only kind sweeter is the honey between your legs.” A pleased expression passed over Mitzi’s face and when she opened her mouth to reply, Zamiel covered it in a kiss so long and deep Arno got horny just looking. So the rogue Raptvyn could be smooth when he wanted to. Watching them kiss, Arno experienced other emotions besides arousal. He felt a hint of jealousy and great curiosity. Earlier, when Zamiel had eaten Mitzi, Arno had wondered what it would be like. It had turned her on so much that Arno had nearly shot his load just watching her tremble, writhe and clutch Zamiel’s head. He knew first hand the skill of Zamiel’s lips and tongue, but in many ways Mitzi was still a sexual mystery, one he wanted to explore. “I’d like a taste of that honey,” Arno said in a husky voice. Mitzi’s eyes widened a bit and Zamiel cast Arno a sidelong glance as he said, “You won’t be disappointed.” “Mitz?” Arno asked. He ran a hand down the front of her thigh. 59

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A smile touched her lips and she nodded, his own desire and curiosity reflected in her eyes. He caressed her inner thigh then stretched out lengthwise, draping one of her long, smooth legs over his shoulder and sliding his hands beneath her bottom. She had a nice ass. Firm, yet fleshy, and very pleasant to squeeze and stroke. Arno lowered his face toward her soft mound, relishing her scent and the heat emanating from her lush body. His lips covered her clit and he tugged at it gently while teasing the delicate flesh with the tip of his tongue. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the texture of her skin and the way her buttocks tightened in his hands when he began lapping with upward strokes she seemed to love. “Arno, oh yes, baby,” she breathed. Her hands slid through his hair and stroked tenderly, though he felt the tension in her fingers. By the way she moaned and thrashed as he licked faster and explored more deeply, he knew he must be doing something right. Her buttocks tightened in his hands and she thrust against him, her body quivering. “Zamiel,” she murmured and Arno opened his eyes, a bit startled. Then he saw that Zamiel had knelt above her head and was fondling her breasts, using his thumbs to circle her nipples and his palms to knead the full, beautiful mounds. Arno returned to her clit and sucked it gently. He longed to explore her more deeply, taste her musky core. The tip of his tongue circled her moist pussy lips, then he thrust inside, licking and tasting her soft, quivering flesh. She moaned and tightened her hands in his hair. Taking his time, Arno continued thrusting and lapping until she trembled uncontrollably, her muscles so tense with passion that making her wait any longer seemed cruel. He sucked on her clit and stroked it with his tongue. Almost immediately she shattered in an orgasm. Her highpitched cry made his stiff cock even stiffer and sent a pang of pleasure through him from head to toe. He didn’t stop licking until she lay completely limp and utterly fulfilled. Lifting his head, Arno licked her essence from his lips and met Zamiel’s gaze. The rogue’s eyes seemed to burn with the same passion Arno felt. “You were right,” Arno said. “Her honey is very sweet.”

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Chapter Six The following morning, Arno and Zamiel flew with Mitzi to her flock’s territory. She landed to meet with the other huntresses while the males turned in midair and flew back toward Zamiel’s nest. Arno changed to his human form and Zamiel did the same. “I want to talk to you,” Arno said. “Yes?” “Actually, I want to impose on you again. Ask a favor.” A sexy grin on his lips, Zamiel grasped Arno’s waist and pulled him so close their pelvises pressed together and their lips almost touched. “What kind of favor?” “I want to improve my fighting skills so that what happened with Pepik won’t happen again.” Zamiel held his gaze, and though Arno tried to sense how he felt, he remained frustratingly unreadable. After a few seconds, Zamiel said, “Sure. I’ll train you.” “You will?” Arno felt a combination of excitement and anticipation tainted by guilt. Zamiel had already done so much for him and was willing to do more, yet Arno still hadn’t told him the truth about his flock. He started to believe Mitzi was right and doubted Zamiel would hurt him if he found out, but Arno needed to wait for the right moment to confide in him. That information wasn’t just something to be blurted out on a mountaintop. Maybe tomorrow. They’d still be alone and Arno would have the night to think about how to approach the subject. “Do you want to start now?” Zamiel asked. Arno drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Yes. Why wait?” “Exactly. Procrastination never helps any situation.” Zamiel held his gaze and Arno resisted the urge to squirm. He couldn’t help thinking he saw an accusing look in the rogue’s eyes. Of course, that was impossible. Zamiel didn’t know Arno was keeping a whopper of a secret. “The most important quality of hunters and warriors is stamina. Without it you’re lost. It’s important to fly daily. I don’t just mean from tree to tree or a leisurely flight from flock to flock. You need to build speed and endurance. Let’s work on that first. Have an endurance flight and then work on some talon techniques. That way I can assess your skill. Who taught you basic hunting and fighting?” “My second father,” Arno said. Second father was the name commonly given to a Raptvyn’s blood parents’ third partner. “Was he a hunter or a guard?”

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“He was a fisherman.” “No wonder you swim so well. What did your blood parents do?” “My blood father was a trade manager like me. My mother kept the nest.” “Are you close to them?” Arno wondered what this had to do with training, then realized Zamiel asked out of genuine curiosity. After all, he hadn’t had much of a family life. It was probably natural for him to ask about Arno’s. “I was. They’re deceased. They were old when they had me. I was part of their last clutch.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s been awhile, though I still miss them. Jindra—” Arno stopped, remembering how Zamiel felt about Jindra. He’d been about to say how supportive Jindra had been when Arno had been left without a family at a young age. “Jindra what?” he asked, but without any of the expected rage and loathing. Though Arno knew Zamiel must still hate any son of Rostya, he obviously wanted Arno to feel comfortable speaking. This only made him feel more guilty. “Nothing.” Zamiel tilted his head slightly then rested a firm, yet comforting, hand on the side of Arno’s neck. His warmth seeped into Arno, who reached up and covered his hand with his own. Then Zamiel released him and asked, “Ready to start?” “Ready.” They changed to bird form and rose in the sky. Unlike the pleasure flights, or even when they’d carried sacks of Zamiel’s smoked meat, this flight was a test of speed and endurance. Several times Zamiel switched their flight pattern so they were flying against the wind, fighting it rather than allowing it to carry them. Arno had considered himself rather fit, but next to Zamiel he was out of shape. The rogue flew like a demon. Finally Zamiel released several sharp caws, ordering Arno to attack him in midair. For a few moments, he merely defended against Arno’s repeated attacks with beak and talons. Just when Arno thought he might drop out of the sky from pure exhaustion, Zamiel called for them to land by the lake. Standing on the packed, rocky dirt by the water, they changed to their human form. Both were panting, their bodies slick with sweat. Arno noted with some annoyance that Zamiel’s breathing returned to normal with enviable swiftness. “You did well,” Zamiel said, ruffling Arno’s damp blond hair. “Yeah. Right. You’d have killed me if the fight was real.”

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“I’ve had much more experience as a warrior and so did Pepik, but you’re not as bad as you think. Most warriors can’t handle an endurance flight like that until after several months of training. You’re in good condition.” “And you’re like a fucking machine.” Zamiel gave a snort of laughter. “Let’s go for a swim and I’ll explain what you did wrong during your attacks.” “What was wrong?” Arno asked, following Zamiel into the water. “You were coming at me like you were fishing for salmon instead of fighting a battle. When you strike with your talons, always remember to lock your leg muscles on impact…” While they washed, Arno listened intently to Zamiel’s advice and observations. He’d never realized how complex fighting techniques could be. Many times Jindra had tried to tell him, even coach him, but Arno had no interest in that kind of violence. As a trade manager, he wasn’t involved in the rougher side of flock life. Battles for territory were left to the flock guards. For a Raptvyn like Arno, it was enough to know basic selfdefense and how to hunt for food. Until his encounter with Pepik, he hadn’t realized how foolish he’d been to waste the chance to train with an accomplished warrior like Jindra. Well, now he had Zamiel, who was just as good, perhaps better. Not that Arno would ever want to find out for sure who would win in battle. The last thing he wanted was for his best friend and his new lover to fight. “Want to go back to the nest so we can eat and fuck?” Zamiel asked with a saucy grin. “Gods, don’t you ever get tired?” “Yeah. I’m sure you can make me good and tired once we get back to the nest.” Zamiel reached for Arno and pulled him into his embrace. Slipping his arms around Zamiel’s neck, Arno kissed him. Their tongues searched each other’s mouths thoroughly. Arno closed his eye and moaned softly, running his hands over Zamiel’s water-slicked back, relishing the hard muscles that rippled beneath his palms. For several moments, they stood waist deep in the lake, exploring each other with hungry kisses. They stared into each other’s eyes as they shifted shape, then flew to the nest. Landing, Zamiel spread his wings wide and backed Arno against the wall, his beak snapping lustfully against the smaller bird’s. Almost simultaneously, they changed back to their man form and Zamiel covered Arno’s mouth in a sweet, yet possessive, kiss. When the kiss broke, he ran his lips down the length of Arno’s neck and over his shoulder. The smooth, damp kisses felt so good, as did the sensation of Zamiel’s powerful body against him.

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Arno’s hands sifted through Zamiel’s thick hair and he tilted his head to better accommodate Zamiel, who kissed the other side of his neck. “I love how you kiss, Zamiel.” “Yeah?” “Uh-huh,” Arno murmured, soothed, yet aroused at the same time. His eyes slipped shut and he leaned heavily against the wall. Zamiel trailed his lips over his chest, licking his nipples then using his tongue to paint a warm, wet line down the center of Arno’s stomach. He stroked Arno’s cock to full erection then pushed down the foreskin. For several moments, the rogue knelt in front of him, his breath fanning Arno’s cock head, teasing him. Gripping handfuls of Zamiel’s hair, Arno drew a sharp breath, his body tense with anticipation, and waited for Zamiel to use his tongue and lips on his shaft. Then Zamiel took the head between his lips and rolled his tongue over it with tantalizing strokes. He sucked the bulging knob then licked Arno’s staff from head to stem and back again. When he fluttered his tongue along the underside, Arno’s body stiffened and trembled. “Fuck. Keep that up and I’ll be done in seconds,” he panted. Zamiel merely chuckled, the sound sending erotic vibrations along Arno’s sensitive flesh. The rogue took as much of Arno’s staff as he could into his mouth so that his cock head brushed the back of his throat. He sucked until Arno knew he couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Just before Arno exploded, Zamiel pulled away, turned him to face the wall and parted his ass cheeks. He pushed his tongue against Arno’s sphincter, lapping, thrusting and exploring. Shaking from head to toe, Arno knew he’d never been pushed so close to the edge without toppling over it. He couldn’t keep the moans of desire from escaping his throat and his fingers gripped the side of the nest so tightly they ached. Zamiel’s tongue left him and he felt the rogue’s hands on his hips, steadying him as the tip of his cock prodded his ass. “You’re gorgeous, you sleek blond bastard,” Zamiel said close to his ear. He pumped into Arno’s ass and reached around to tease his balls and stroke his shaft. That was all Arno could take. He cried out and came, bucking against Zamiel who was forced to grasp his hips with both hands. Groaning with pleasure, Zamiel thrust harder and faster until he also exploded in ecstasy. If not for Zamiel’s powerful arms around him, Arno might have sunk to the floor. The rogue guided him to the blankets where Arno lay with his head against Zamiel’s chest, listening to the thunderous beating of his heart that finally slowed to normal. After a moment, Arno moved slightly away and kissed Zamiel’s cheek. A smile touched the rogue’s lips.

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Their shoulders and legs touching, Arno and Zamiel settled to sleep. “Tomorrow we’ll build a target for attack practice,” Zamiel said in a drowsy voice. “Mmm.” Arno turned onto his side and draped an arm over Zamiel. His muscles still ached from training, but he was eager to learn more. After just one day of practice with Zamiel, he felt more like a warrior than he ever imagined possible. “Looking forward to it.” “Sure you are.” Zamiel chuckled softly. “I mean it.” Arno kissed his shoulder. “Thank you.” “For what?” “Helping me.” “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.” “Good night, Zamiel.” Giving Arno’s forearm an affectionate squeeze, he murmured, “Night.”

***** The following morning after breakfast, Zamiel and Arno searched the forest for fallen logs and branches big and strong enough to make a proper target. Zamiel showed him how to shape the wood and bind it so it resembled a Raptvyn in bird form. They took turns swooping at it from the sky, using their talons to pierce, grip and tear. Arno found target practice surprisingly enjoyable, so much that he scarcely noticed any fatigue until after Zamiel brought the session to a close. “Good job today,” Zamiel said. They’d stopped to catch some fish for lunch and while Zamiel cleaned it, Arno built a fire. A short time later, they sat by the fire, Arno leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. Zamiel impaled the prepared fish on a stick and cooked it. “This damn vision of mine—or should I say lack of vision—is a detriment.” “You’re doing very well. I know Raptvyns with both eyes who aren’t as talented.” A slight smile on his lips, Arno said, “You’re not pandering to me because I’m your lover, are you?” Zamiel looked disgusted. “I wouldn’t do that. This is serious business. Dangerous. If I say you’re doing well, then you’re doing well. You have the potential to be a decent hunter.” “What about a warrior?” “You don’t want to be a warrior.” “Yes, I do.” “It’s a nasty, bloody, dirty thing to be.”

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“Yeah, but nobody messes with you.” Arno’s temper rose. “What are the chances of a bird like Pepik plucking your eye out? Or Jindra’s?” “I’m not saying you shouldn’t learn how to defend yourself, but the truth is no matter how hard you train or what your skill level, there’s always someone better and always someone worse.” Arno shook his head and stood. Turning his back to Zamiel, he folded his arms across his chest and gazed at the trees. “Someone like you can’t possibly understand how I feel.” “You’re not the only one with scars, Arno. Remember?” A pang of compassion darted through Arno. He felt foolish. Zamiel understood better than anyone what it felt like to be a victim. He turned back to the rogue and said, “I’m sorry.” “Come back here and sit down.” Still turning the fish over the crackling flames, Zamiel nodded toward the ground beside him. With a sigh, Arno obeyed. He knelt by Zamiel, who held out the stick. Arno grabbed a chunk of the hot, fragrant fish and took a bite. “Umm. Just how I like it.” He and Zamiel ate the fish while watching the flames burn low. When they finished, they killed the fire and went on a leisurely flight. Once they’d digested their food, they swooped back into fighting practice.

***** It was nearly dusk when Mitzi neared Zamiel’s nest. She hadn’t intended to return until her hunting duty ended, but when a messenger brought a note from Arno’s flock leader, she’d decided to deliver it to him personally. It gave her a perfect excuse to peek in on her men. She’d only been away for a day, but she already missed being with them, especially considering that her day with the huntresses hadn’t gone very well. The hunt itself was a great success, but afterward the trouble began. Mitzi had been first on the rotation for skinning and preparing the meat for smoking—a dirty job that no one enjoyed. Accompanying her were three other females, Lise, Rue and Hilde. Hilde was the mate of Ondro, the warrior next in line for leadership of the flock, and she was no more pleasant than he was. Hilde hated Mitzi in particular since she’d never been able to intimidate her and the woman loved throwing around her clout because her mate would be the next leader. Rue accidentally started the trouble by asking Mitzi how things were going with Zamiel. It was no secret among the flock that Mitzi fancied him or that they were involved. “Very well,” Mitzi had replied, a smile tugging at her lips just from thinking about Zamiel and Arno back at the nest. She already longed for them, though they’d seen each last night.

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Lise, a decent, though rather ignorant woman, glanced at Mitzi. “I know he’s a great warrior, but I sometimes wonder how you can bear looking at all those scars.” “Lise!” Rue wrinkled her nose and stared at the other huntress in disbelief. “All warriors and most hunters have scars.” “I meant no harm,” Lise replied, her eyes wide. “It’s just he looks so—” “Horrifying?” Hilde supplied. She was obviously loving every minute of this. “It’s true any warrior worth his talons has at least some scars, but for one to be covered from head to foot like Zamiel, it simply proves the sort of mercenary monster he truly is.” “Some people are more monstrous on the inside than others can ever be on the outside,” Mitzi said, staring hard at Hilde. The tall, blonde woman sniffed in disgust. “Face it, Mitzi. He’s physically revolting, has no loyalty and only a desperate woman past the proper mating age could possibly want him.” Mitzi’s stomach tightened with anger and she gripped her knife harder as she continued the dirty task of skinning carcasses. “He is far from revolting and perhaps he’s learned to be careful with his loyalty.” “Because he’s shunned by his ancestral flock.” Hilde chuckled. “They should have simply killed him.” That last comment pushed Mitzi to her limit. She dropped her knife and shoved Hilde hard. Both huntresses shifted to their bird form and flew at each other, wings beating savagely and beaks snapping. A wooden staff separated them and they leapt apart, panting and glaring at each other. Between them stood the leader of their hunting committee, a muscular redheaded woman called Bruna, looking angry and disgusted. “Fighting each other like savages?” she demanded. “No huntress who flies under me will conduct herself like an unruly beast.” Mitzi and Hilde changed back to their woman forms and bowed their heads in respect to the leader. “Who started this?” Bruna asked. The warriors exchanged haughty glances. Mitzi almost expected Hilde to point an accusing finger, but it seemed the woman had just enough intelligence to realize the other huntresses wouldn’t like a snitch. “Who attacked first?” Bruna demanded, her voice laced with fury. “No answer. Fine. The four of you here, two beasts and two onlookers, will serve double shifts for the remainder of the hunt.” Mitzi couldn’t allow Rue and Lise to take the blame for her bad temper and Hilde’s vicious tongue. Her jaw tight, she said, “I attacked first.” A gloating smile played around Hilde’s lips.

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The leader nodded, some of the rage fading from her expression. “As punishment, you and Hilde will finish today’s skinning duty by yourselves. Rue and Lise are dismissed. Hilde, you are also on skinning duty tomorrow and, Mitzi, you’re on it for the remainder of the hunt.” The women nodded and Bruna shifted shape and flew off, leaving Mitzi and Hilde to their silence and their duty. When she’d finished for the day, Mitzi had taken a long swim in the lake to wash off the stench from skinning. By then the messenger had arrived and she could scarcely wait to deliver the note to Arno. She’d nearly forgotten about her tough day and was thoroughly enjoying the flight when frightening sounds broke her thoughts. Zamiel’s piercing battle cry mingled with Arno’s shriek of fury. Immediately Mitzi flew faster, toward the sound of their voices. Just over the mountainside, a horrifying sight met her. Zamiel and Arno locked in midair, their beaks snapping, wings beating and talons ripping. Zamiel got a powerful hold on Arno’s ankles and flipped him over so he dangled helplessly in the air. Gods, Arno had been right after all. He must have told Zamiel about his flock and the rogue attacked him in a fit of rage. Though she knew she was no match for Zamiel, she had to do something to help Arno. Perhaps she could take the rogue by surprise since he was so involved in his attack on the smaller bird. Flying as fast as her wings could carry her, she dove at Zamiel, her talons positioned to attack. The thought of a violent clash with him sickened her. Never had she imagined their relationship would come to this. Time and again he’d told her he was a rogue, different from other Raptvyns. She’d foolishly believed in spite of everything that he had a heart and soul worth loving. Even as she sank her talons into his shoulders and pulled with all her strength, she couldn’t believe he’d turned so violently on Arno. Zamiel cawed in surprise and pain as her talons sank into his flesh. His hot, slick blood dampened the feathers around her ankles. He released his hold on Arno and rolled over and over in the sky, finally managing to pull free of her hold. She prepared herself to suffer his wrath, but instead of attacking, he dropped away, putting distance between them. Arno flew between his partners, cawing for Mitzi to stop attacking. The three soared to a clearing, landed and changed to their human form. “What the hell is your problem, woman?” Zamiel roared, his blue eyes blazing. Blood streaked his torso from the gashes her talons had left in his shoulders. “I saw you two fighting and thought you were trying to—” She paused, glancing from Zamiel to Arno. “Trying to what?” Zamiel snapped.

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“Kill him,” she replied weakly. “Why the fuck would I try to kill him? Damn. Your talons are stronger than they look.” He glanced from shoulder to shoulder, using his hands to swipe the blood running from the wounds and muttered, “As if I don’t have more scars than skin already.” “Arno, I thought you’d told him,” she began, but Arno shook his head, his expression pleading. At that moment she knew he hadn’t yet told Zamiel the truth. “Told me what?” Zamiel asked. “Told you something that got your temper up,” she said. “My temper up?” Zamiel advanced on her. “You’re the one who swooped in like a maniac.” “Because you were attacking him!” “He wasn’t attacking me,” Arno explained. “He was practicing with me. I asked him to help me improve my fighting skills so I wouldn’t be at the mercy of birds like Pepik.” Mitzi felt overwhelming relief, then guilt and embarrassment. She touched a hand to one of Zamiel’s shoulders, horrified by the deep gashes. “I’m so sorry. I thought—” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered. His brow furrowed and he touched a gentle hand to her face where Hilde had scratched her rather deeply in the fight. “Did you get that during the hunt today?” “Yeah,” she lied, not wanting to tell him she’d been fighting because other huntresses had insulted him. Zamiel was tough, but that didn’t mean he’d appreciate being called a monster. “You need to clean those cuts,” Arno said, examining Zamiel’s wounds. He turned to Mitzi. “Both of you.” “I treated mine already,” Mitzi replied. Her little scratch wasn’t nearly as bad as the vicious talon wounds on Zamiel. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what she’d done. “I have salve in my nest,” Zamiel said. He shifted shape and flew off, followed by Arno and Mitzi. In the nest, Zamiel took a jar of salve while Mitzi picked up cloths and a flask of water. She dampened the cloths and handed one to Arno. Each taking a shoulder, they cleaned Zamiel’s wounds. “This is awful,” Mitzi said. Another pang of guilt darted through her and tears sprang into her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” “Mitzi, it’s not that bad,” Zamiel said with an affectionate nudge. “Give me some of that salve,” Arno said.

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She passed him the jar and he began applying it while she discarded the bloody cloths and retrieved bandages. As Arno finished smoothing on the salve, she bound the wounds. “I’m sorry,” Mitzi repeated and kissed Zamiel’s cheek. Arno kissed his other. “You two are completely overreacting,” Zamiel scoffed. “It’s a few little cuts… Nothing at…all.” His voice faded as they continued covering his face and neck with kisses. “Let make it up to you,” Mitzi whispered in his ear, then rolled her tongue around it. “Let me help her,” Arno added, caressing his chest. He sucked on the side of Zamiel’s neck while Mitzi continued fondling his ear. Zamiel moaned with pleasure, his neck arching and eyes slipping shut. “I’d love to know what you two would do if I was really hurt—Ah, fuck,” he breathed as Arno knelt in front of him, clasped his cock and lapped the swollen head. Mitzi dropped to her knees behind him and gently nibbled his big, hard ass. Her tongue slipped between his bottom cheeks and she laved and prodded his sphincter in the manner she knew drove him wild. Arno’s hand slid over Zamiel’s hip and reached for Mitzi’s hand. He covered it with his and caressed gently. A thrill shot through her. She relished making love with both her men. Strangely, it was an even deeper intimacy with two partners instead of one. She and Arno continued working on Zamiel. By the way he moaned and clenched his muscles, they were doing a great job. Closing her eyes, she focused completely on her arousing task. Her tongue pushed past the ring of muscle and explored his hot, tight ass. She laved and thrust until his pulsing sphincter and perineum were slick with saliva. All the while, she heard Arno’s groans of pleasure mingling with Zamiel’s as the blond sucked the gorgeous rogue’s cock and fondled his balls. “Either you two better stop or prepare for a fuckin’ explosion,” Zamiel panted, his ass and leg muscles rock-hard and straining as he neared his peak. “Explode,” Arno said, his voice muffled since his lips were apparently wrapped around Zamiel’s cock head. Mitzi giggled. She couldn’t agree with Arno more. She licked and prodded, quickening her rhythm. With a raw cry of ecstasy, Zamiel came so hard she wondered how he remained standing. When he finished, Zamiel dropped to his knees, wrapped an arm around each lover and tugged them toward the sheltered part of the nest where they sprawled on a blanket. 70

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Thoroughly aroused by what they’d just done to Zamiel, Arno reached down and gave his own stiff, twitching cock a quick rub. “Enjoy yourself?” Mitzi asked, using her fingertip to draw random shapes on Zamiel’s chest. “You have to ask?” he murmured. “I don’t,” Arno chuckled. “You shot so much come, I didn’t think I’d be able to swallow it all.” “Arno!” Mitzi wrinkled her nose. “That’s nasty.” “No it isn’t,” Arno said in a husky voice. “Oh! I almost forgot.” Mitzi reached into the leather pouch on the belt around her waist. “This message came for you from your flock leader, Arno.” She handed him the note, which he unfolded and read quickly. Disappointment washed over him. Vlad requested he return to the Convocation Clearing because the trade manager he’d placed in charge while Arno was away had accidentally scheduled two meetings for the same time. Arno had no choice but to fly home and assist. At least the flock he’d been asked to deal with was known for quick meetings. “Damn. I need to return home. There’s a trade problem they need my help with.” “Will you be back soon?” Mitzi asked. “I’ll be back before your hunting duty is over.” “Speaking of that, I need to go. They’re expecting me in the Convocation Clearing to discuss tomorrow’s plans.” She stood and the men followed. Kissing each of them, she said, “Bye. See you guys in a couple of days.” “Can’t wait.” Zamiel cupped her bottom, tugged her close and covered her mouth in a lingering kiss. When he released her, she sighed, obviously no happier to break up their trio than Arno was. She shifted to her bird form and flew off, leaving the men to say goodbye. “I’ll be back tomorrow at midday, no later,” Arno told Zamiel. He looped his arms around the sexy rogue’s neck. Embracing him tightly, Zamiel spoke into his ear, “I’ll be waiting.” They kissed, holding each other so close their hearts thrummed in unison. After a moment they parted. Arno changed shape and ascended. He could scarcely wait to return to Zamiel and Mitzi. If they felt about him the way he felt about them, there was no way even Zamiel could deny they belonged together as mates.

***** Zamiel spent the remainder of the day training, gathering herbs and tidying his nest. He tried to focus on the tasks he’d set for himself, but his thoughts kept drifting to Mitzi and Arno. They’d been gone a short time, but already he missed their company and looked forward to their return. 71

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When had he changed? At one time, he’d been so certain he’d spend his life alone. Now the last thing he wanted to do was pass the night in his lonely nest. He didn’t retire until after dark. In his bird form, he settled into a corner of his nest and closed his eyes, wishing for the warmth and comfort of his mates.

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Chapter Seven The following day, Zamiel could scarcely wait until noon. When Arno didn’t appear on time, he told himself he wasn’t disappointed, that it was stupid to feel so eager about a man he hardly knew. Yet he felt as if he and Arno had always been together. The blond fit in perfectly with him and Mitzi, as if they were meant to be a trio. Apparently Arno’s flock business had taken longer than expected. Later in the afternoon, Zamiel decided to fly to Mitzi’s flock’s Convocation Clearing to see if Arno might have sent a message about being late. To keep his little secret about his flock, he most likely would have sent a message to Mitzi, knowing she would get it to him. A short time later, he landed in their Convocation Clearing and flew to the shelter that belonged to the Raptvyn in charge of mail. Though Mitzi was still out on the gathering and would be gone until late that night, he assured Zamiel no messages had come for her. Disturbed and slightly worried about Arno’s lateness, he was about to fly home when a familiar voice called to him from one of the treetop shelters. “Zamiel!” His old mentor, Toni, shouted and waved. Chirping a greeting, Zamiel ascended and landed in the shelter where he changed to his man form and embraced the tall, gray-haired Raptvyn. Though approaching seventy, Toni was still a powerfully built bird in excellent condition. In his day, he’d been a great warrior and an even better healer. Zamiel owed him much and loved him dearly. Other than Mitzi and, most recently, Arno, Toni was the one person he’d allowed himself to care about. “What happened? More mercenary work?” Toni glanced at Zamiel’s shoulders. All the flying he’d done since yesterday had caused the wounds to bleed through the bandages. “No. Mitzi got a little carried away.” “Mitzi?” The older bird looked surprised then his brow furrowed. “She doesn’t seem like the type. I didn’t imagine either of you would be into that sort of kink.” Zamiel gave a snort of laugher. “It’s not what you think. Arno and I were training and she thought I was trying to kill him. A stupid misunderstanding. You know how females can be.” “Arno? Her friend from our ancestral flock? How do you know him?” As he spoke, Toni poured water into a bowl. He removed salve and fresh bandages from the trunk where he kept his healing supplies. Since marrying into this flock, he’d been busy as a

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healer and spent most of his days in the Convocation Clearing, tending injured warriors and hunters. “It’s a long story.” “Sit down and I’ll get you fresh bandages for those wounds. They should have been cleaned before this. Didn’t I teach you better than that?” “They’re probably healed by now.” Zamiel shrugged, but knelt on the floor. He hadn’t intended to speak to Toni about his relationship with Arno, but while the older bird removed the dirty bandages and cleaned the gashes that were already healing quickly, he found himself talking about both his lovers. He admitted caring for them more than he thought possible and how mating permanently had crossed his mind. He also talked more bitterly than he’d intended about Arno and Mitzi’s lie. “Sounds to me like none of you trust each other,” Toni said, tying off the last bandage. He rested a gentle hand on Zamiel’s shoulder. “That should hold for a while, as long as you don’t fly like a maniac for at least another day. Then you should be healed completely.” One thing about being a Raptvyn. Most injuries healed practically overnight, provided they were properly cleaned and rested. Fast healing was a benefit all species of shape shifters shared. “Thanks,” Zamiel said. “And the lack of trust is old news. Except for Mitzi. I really let myself slip with her. I actually fell for her line about trust and friendship.” “Maybe she meant it. She’s not the kind of woman to toy with people. And you did say that for some reason she thought you were trying to kill Arno.” “I think that might be the reason they’re keeping his flock a secret from me—or think they are. They think I’ll go crazy and attack him. Either that or he believes the Shunned One isn’t good enough to mingle with his flock.” “I don’t know Arno that well, but I don’t think Mitzi would side with him if that was the reason. One way or the other, you need to confront them with the truth.” “Shouldn’t they be telling me the truth first?” Toni curled his lip in disgust. “Zamiel, you’re thirty-eight years old. Stop acting like a fledgling.” “What?” he demanded, his temper rising. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It means the three of you are acting like children instead of adults. All this scheming, lying and game playing. Either you care about each other and are serious about mating or else you’re just with each other for a feather-fluffing fuck and prefer to spend the rest of your lives in empty nests.” Zamiel couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at his lips. He hadn’t expected a speech like that from a usually classy old bird. “Maybe you have a point.”

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“Trust me. And I mean it.” Toni placed a comforting hand to the side of Zamiel’s neck, his obsidian gaze fixed on the younger man. “Have I ever tried to lead you wrong?” “No.” Zamiel gave Toni a quick embrace. “Thanks. I’m going home to see if Arno is back.” “You won’t be happy until this is sorted out,” Toni added. “Not you, Zamiel. You’re too serious for these games.” “You’re right. I am.” Zamiel changed shape and flew toward home. Arno wasn’t in the nest, so Zamiel circled the surrounding area, his keen vision searching for any movement on the ground. He cawed for Arno, but heard no answering cry. When night fell and Arno still didn’t appear, Zamiel started to worry in earnest. What if something had happened to him? Perhaps he’d suffered an injury on the way to Zamiel’s nest. No one from his flock would realize he’d been hurt and therefore no message would be sent to Mitzi. Arno could be lying somewhere, hurt or dying. The last place Zamiel wanted to go was his ancestral flock’s territory, but he had to find out what had happened to his lover. And Toni was right. It was time to stop this foolishness. Cursing himself for not going to Arno’s flock sooner, he flew off at top speed. Shortly after Zamiel entered his ancestral flock’s territory, two guards cawed a warning and swooped close, ordering him to land. He flew faster, heading directly to the Convocation Clearing. There was no way he would be driven off their territory until he found out what happened to Arno. He landed in the Convocation Clearing and warriors from the flock guard bombarded him, their wings beating, beaks snapping and talons poised for attack. Fury rose in Zamiel and hatred of his flock almost overcame him. Still, he realized he was the one who had invaded their territory, so he controlled his urge to fight back and merely defended himself against the onslaught. He cared about Arno enough to face this risk and that meant he needed to remain in control of himself if he was to get what he came for. A familiar voice cawed to the Raptvyns surrounding him to cease their attack. Arno fought his way through the larger birds and tried to shield Zamiel. The slender golden Raptvyn looked shockingly fierce with his wings pounding and expression blazing. “Fall back!” bellowed a deep, commanding voice. Immediately the guards stopped their attack and formed a tight circle around Zamiel and Arno. His gaze darting from bird to bird, Zamiel remained in a defensive position. A tall, dark-haired Raptvyn approached and Zamiel’s feathers bristled. There was no mistaking a son of Rostya.

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Arno shifted to his man form and spoke to the dark-haired Raptvyn. “Vlad, this is Zamiel, the friend I told you about.” “The Shunned One,” snarled an older guard. Zamiel remembered him as a supporter of Rostya. He was among the guards present on the day he’d defeated his old enemy, the day he could have taken his revenge. He would never forget the faces of the guards who were there that day. “He doesn’t belong here,” the guard continued. “That’s for me to decide,” Vlad stated. “Your father made that decision before you were born.” Vlad leveled a shriveling gaze on the older Raptvyn and said, “My father is dead. I am the flock leader and I decide who is allowed on flock territory and who is not.” The guard’s jaw tightened, but he cast his gaze away from Vlad. One thing was certain, the new leader had inherited his father’s attitude. Whether or not he had also inherited his father’s brutality or if he was fair was yet to be seen. If Zamiel intended to pursue a relationship with Arno, he would need to make every effort to smooth his relations with his ancestral flock. Vlad turned to Zamiel and asked, “What is your business here?” “I was looking for Arno.” Arno turned to him with concern. “What’s wrong?” “What’s wrong?” Zamiel said, curling his lip. “You said you’d be back at midday. If you haven’t noticed it’s well past dusk.” “The meeting ran late. I’m sorry.” “You could have sent a message.” “I didn’t— How did you know where to find me?” Arno demanded. “You may disperse,” Vlad said to the guards as well as the crowd of other Raptvyns who had approached with interest. “Arno, Zamiel, come with me.” Zamiel hesitated a moment, but Arno grasped his wrist and motioned for him to follow Vlad. They changed form and flew to the flock leader’s treetop shelter. “I thought you could use some privacy,” Vlad said once they returned to human form. “You may talk here. I’ll be back soon.” This surprised Zamiel. Holding Vlad’s gaze, he nodded. “Thank you.” Vlad jumped out of the shelter, shifting shape in midair. “How did you find out about my flock?” Arno demanded. “I’ve always known.” “How—” “You talked when you were sick.”

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His blue eye narrowed and color rose in Arno’s chiseled face. “Why didn’t you say something before now?” “I was waiting to see how long you and Mitzi intended to lie.” Zamiel’s lip curled in anger and he took several steps closer to Arno who backed up then stopped, his jaw set as he stood his ground. “Did you think I wouldn’t care if you didn’t return this afternoon?” “I didn’t think you’d worry, if that’s what you mean.” Nodding, Zamiel clenched his teeth. “Then what we’ve shared these past days has meant nothing to you.” “No! I didn’t say that at all. What do you want from me, Zamiel? The first time I mentioned my flock, you looked ready to kill. For all I knew, you could have turned on me.” “So you continued sleeping with a man you thought might kill you?” Zamiel scoffed. “That’s smart.” “I—” “You what? Thought I’d fuck you, then rip your throat out? Nice to know you consider me in such high regard. And Mitzi seems to agree. Wonderful. You hardly know me, so I can sort of understand your reasoning, but she and I—” “She didn’t want to lie to you. I asked her to give me a week to let you get to know me better before I told you the truth. She hated the idea, but she agreed as a favor to me. If you’re going to be angry with somebody, then be mad at me.” “I’m pissed at both of you.” Arno snorted and poked a finger into Zamiel’s chest. “Just what I’d expect from someone like you.” Knocking his hand away, Zamiel growled, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It means you would try to pull away from someone who loves you. Whether you want to admit it or not, Mitzi is in love with you. What about you, Zamiel? Do you love her? Can you love anybody? You’re so full of hate that anyone who might give a damn about you needs to walk on eggshells in your presence, if you’ll pardon the expression.” “I’m not sure if I can love anyone or not, Arno, at least by whatever your standards for love are.” “Excuse me?” “How loving and caring is it to leave someone wondering if you’re alive or dead? If you tell somebody you’re going to be somewhere at midday, then fucking be there!” So many emotions bombarded Zamiel that he could scarcely see or hear. Anger, hurt and could it be love? Most of all, he felt confused. Though he and Mitzi often had spats, he’d never before engaged in such an emotional argument with a lover. Maybe that was because he was usually the one missing his appointments with Mitzi. Now he completely understood why she got so annoyed with him. The few times 77

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she’d been slightly late, he’d been concerned enough to track her down, but she’d never made him wait as long as Arno, or as long as he’d often made her wait. How many times had he told her midday and not showed up until dusk? He’d need to start being more considerate. Damn. It seemed he was mated after all. When had he decided to sacrifice his rogue’s freedom for companionship? A slight smile flickered across Arno’s lips and he asked softly, “You really were worried, weren’t you?” “No. I risked getting mobbed by your flock’s guards because I thought it might be fun.” Arno slipped his arms around Zamiel’s neck, held him tightly and spoke close to his ear, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t on time and I’m even sorrier about lying and asking Mitzi to lie for me.” In spite of himself, Zamiel felt his anger slipping away. Still, he clung to it a moment longer, standing stiff and unmoving as Arno continued holding him, caressing the back of his neck and weaving his fingers through his hair. “Forgive me?” Arno asked. “Don’t lie to me again.” “I won’t.” Zamiel wrapped his arms around Arno and pressed his body closer before drawing back just enough to cover his mouth in a deep, tender kiss. Moments later, Vlad cawed to announce his return. The pair broke apart just as the flock leader landed in the shelter and changed to his man form. “We’ll be out of your way directly,” Arno said. “Not so fast,” Vlad said, turning to Zamiel. “Sit. We must talk.” Of course. Zamiel should have realized there would be repercussions for stepping onto flock territory. At least Vlad had been reasonable enough to allow him to speak to Arno, but regardless he was still his father’s son. Now the punishment would come, and by flock law, Vlad would be within his rights. “Have a seat.” Vlad gestured toward a corner of the room. Arno glanced from Vlad to Zamiel before nudging his lover’s hand. Zamiel tensed, yet he remained outwardly calm as he walked across the room and sat on the floor, Arno beside him. Vlad sat across from them, studying them with unfaltering black eyes. “Arno has told me about you,” Vlad said. “If you’re a friend of his and are not a danger to our flock, then you’re welcome here.” Hesitantly, Zamiel gave the slightest nod. What was Vlad’s game? “I have the power to lift your banishment if you want to rejoin us.” This took Zamiel completely by surprise. “Why?”

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“You prefer to live as a rogue?” “I’ve been a rogue all my life. That choice was made for me by Rostya.” “That might have been true at one time, but I don’t doubt you’ve had offers to join other flocks. Your reputation as a hunter and mercenary is known to us. I’m giving you the option of making peace.” Though he didn’t take his gaze from Vlad, Zamiel felt Arno staring at him. The blond Raptvyn’s anxiousness was almost tangible. Making peace with his ancestral flock meant Zamiel could come and go freely, seeing Arno as he pleased with no fear of attack. It also meant letting go of the anger that had kept him alive for so long. Or had it? Mitzi had often told him the anger wasn’t keeping him alive but was slowly killing him. Maybe she was right after all. “Why are you doing this?” Zamiel asked Vlad. “Rostya was your father.” “That doesn’t mean I agree with his methods. He clung too much to the past. Tradition is important, but sometimes traditions must be changed. You should not have been marked with the Shunning Scars.” The memory of receiving those scars sparked Zamiel’s rage and his stomach clenched. For a moment, Vlad looked so much like Rostya that he nearly forgot he was a different man. “I’m willing to call a truce between us,” Vlad stated. “It’s up to you. If you want to live by violence and hatred it’s your decision.” Arno edged a bit closer to Zamiel. A truce with a flock he’d learned not to trust. Was it possible that Vlad hadn’t taken after his father? Zamiel would be a fool to trust him, yet his strong feelings for Arno overtook his reason. If he wanted both Mitzi and the blond Raptvyn—and he did—then he needed to make a compromise. Still, he didn’t want to commit to joining one flock or another until he and his lovers discussed the details of a permanent mating. “A truce is a good idea,” Zamiel stated and forced himself to add, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. I will send word to the flock that your banishment is lifted and you’re welcome here.” The three stood and Zamiel finally turned to Arno who offered him a vibrant smile. “Before you go, a word of warning, Zamiel,” Vlad stated. Immediately his defenses rose and he met Vlad’s gaze as the flock leader continued, “I am not Rostya. I am ruled neither by tradition nor my own conceit as a warrior. If you do anything to harm this flock, I will kill you. There will be no open challenges, but an execution. Is that understood?” Zamiel knew exactly what Vlad meant and he was shocked to realize the leader knew about the incident between his father and the Shunned One.

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“I’m not the one who launches attacks against innocent people,” Zamiel said. “That’s your bloodline, not mine.” A furious look crept into Vlad’s eyes, yet he managed to keep his temper in check, something his father had never quite mastered. “I asked if you understood me, Zamiel. The only answer required is a yes or a no.” “Yes,” Zamiel stated. “I understand.” “You may go.” Vlad nodded at both men, who leapt out of the dwelling, shifting shape and flying out of the Convocation Clearing. Arno chirped for Zamiel to follow him to his nest. When they landed, Zamiel looked around at the cozy dwelling nestled between the branches of a tall tree just outside the Convocation Clearing. Though smaller than Zamiel’s nest, it was well constructed, yet wouldn’t be large enough for three, let alone a clutch. Zamiel hated the idea of leaving his nest. It had taken ages to get it exactly how he wanted it, yet once mated, for the safety of his family, he needed to move into flock territory. That meant building a new nest. “What was Vlad talking about just before we left his dwelling?” Arno asked once they’d changed to their human form. His steady blue gaze fixed on Zamiel. “He was referring to an incident that happened long ago. To be honest I’m surprised he knew about it. I thought Rostya had sworn those present to secrecy. It’s a secret I chose to keep as well. I still don’t fully understand it or, should I say, my reaction. I could have—” Zamiel turned, his fists clenched, drew a deep breath and released it slowly. His distress cried out to Arno, who stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is it, Zamiel?” “I had the chance.” “For what?” Arno stepped in front of his lover and cupped his cheek. “Zamiel?” The rogue shook his head. “It’s not important.” “I think it is, especially if my flock leader brought it up.” Zamiel walked to the side of the nest and ran his hands over the tightly woven branches and leaves. “It happened about twelve years after my banishment. I was sixteen years old and had dedicated my life thus far to learning warriors’ ways. Toni trained me well and also tried to impress the importance of studying as a healer, but I didn’t care about that at the time. Every night I dreamed of revenge against Rostya. I never thought about possibly losing my life in the process or what might happen if I got revenge.” “Go on,” Arno said. “I was almost full grown at sixteen. Not nearly as strong as I am now, but I had so much hate it made up for any lack of power and experience. I thought I was ready.”

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“Don’t tell me you fought Rostya?” “He and several of his guards were hunting on neutral territory, close to where Toni and I nested. Rostya ventured off from his party and I attacked. I had youth and determination on my side, but needless to say I didn’t have nearly the experience of a warrior like Rostya. I held my own, but the fight was close. We landed on the wet rocks by the lake. Rostya slipped, went down and struck his head. That was my chance. I could have taken his life then and there, but I hesitated.” “Why?” “I don’t know.” Zamiel’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “I guess I’d imagined defeating him in battle, outfighting him, not ripping out his throat after he slipped on a fucking rock. Or maybe I was afraid. I’d never killed another Raptvyn before. Maybe I wasn’t as prepared as I’d imagined. Anyway, by the time I decided to press my advantage, his guards arrived and attacked me. I defended myself, but there were too many. They were too experienced. Too strong. They would have killed me if Rostya hadn’t come to and called them off.” This surprised Arno. “Did he want to punish you himself?” Slowly, Zamiel shook his head. “He was furious with them and told them not to interfere with his fights. He ordered them to let me go. Not that I could have gone anywhere. The guards had torn me apart. Gods, I don’t think I’ve ever been hurt that badly.” “How did you get back to your nest?” “Rostya ordered one of his guards to take me there. If it wasn’t for Toni’s skills as a healer, I’d be dead. Again I owed him my life.” “Is that…” “What?” Zamiel snapped, though Arno guessed his anger wasn’t directed at his lover, but at the horrible memories. “Is that where you got most of your scars?” “Many, yes,” he replied absently, then continued, “Before the guard carried out his orders, Rostya said something to me.” Zamiel paused, lost in the past. He could almost feel the sting of beaks and talons on his torn flesh, could practically feel the blood running freely from his body, leaving him weak and helpless. That had been his big revenge scene. Pathetic. Many times Toni had tried to lure him into talking about it, but Zamiel had been too ashamed. This was the first time since it happened that he’d spoken of it to anyone. “What did he say?” Arno asked quietly. “He said if I wanted to fight him, he’d be waiting. No crude attacks on neutral ground and no cowardly interference from other Raptvyns. A one-on-one fight to the death with all the responsibilities that follow.” “Why didn’t you ever challenge him again?”

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Zamiel sighed, but this time he looked at Arno, his eyes gleaming as emotions battled beneath their icy blue surface. “Because as I was recovering, I began to realize what Rostya meant. As you know, it’s rare for a leader to fight for his place once the two-day challenge is over. However, if anyone dares threaten him in a fight to the death and wins, he inherits leadership of the flock. I realized I didn’t want to lead a flock I hated. I didn’t want to command guards like the ones who had nearly killed me. Maybe at the time part of me was afraid of Rostya as well.” A look of self-disgust passed over Zamiel’s face as he spoke those last words. “You had a lot of guts to fight him at all,” Arno said. “It wasn’t guts. It was pure hate and raw stupidity. When I grew up and got a life, revenge against Rostya meant less to me. I still hated him, but I realized that being bested by a boy—and I had bested him—was more of a punishment to him than another challenge. I knew I could defeat him. I was coming into my prime and he was aging, but he had to live with the fact that a sixteen-year-old had gained the upper hand in battle.” “Then you did get your revenge after all. To someone like Rostya, who only cared about tradition and his prowess as a warrior, the not knowing which of you was the better man must have haunted him until the day he died.” “I suppose. After I recovered from the guards’ beating, I continued training as a warrior but took healing more seriously.” “I’m glad you did.” Arno took his hand and squeezed it. “You saved my life.” A smile flickered across Zamiel’s lips. “You and Mitzi…” “Yes?” “You mean a lot to me. I’m not great when it comes to expressing myself like this, but you mean a lot.” Arno smiled. He realized discussing his innermost feelings was difficult for a man like Zamiel, yet today he’d invited him into his heart and it touched Arno deeply. “That’s how I feel about you and I know Mitzi feels the same.” Arno slipped his arms around Zamiel. They held each other tightly for a long moment. When they broke apart, Zamiel once again ran his hand along the side of the nest. “Nice workmanship.” “Thank you.” Arno reached for several soft blankets folded neatly in the corner. Turning back to Zamiel, he noted the rogue’s furrowed brow. He could almost see the thoughts racing across his mind. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “You looked distracted.” “I was just thinking about how much time it takes to build a new nest.” Arno wrinkled his nose. “Oh sure. You land in my nest and instantly think about remodeling, right?”

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“I didn’t say that. It’s just that if you ever intend to mate permanently, it’s a little…little.” Arno staggered against the side of the nest, feigning shock, a smile on his lips. “Did the rogue Raptvyn just use the words ‘mate’ and ‘permanently’ in the same sentence?” “Smart ass. Come here.” Zamiel grasped his upper arms and dragged him close for a kiss. “Zamiel,” Arno cupped the back of his head and gazed into his eyes, “we haven’t known each other long, but I’d say we’ve gotten close fast.” “I’d say that’s a reasonable assumption.” “Is it too soon to use the L word?” “I don’t know. I thought I was the guy who couldn’t love anybody.” Raising his eyes to the heavens, Arno sighed deeply. “Are you the type who always brings up every stupid thing someone says during an argument?” “Stick around long enough and I guess you’ll find out,” Zamiel spoke against his lips, then kissed him again. “Umm,” Arno moaned softly, tightening his grip on Zamiel and enjoying the gentle stroking of their tongues against each other. Now that he’d admitted his feelings for his lovers, Zamiel felt a strange, giddy happiness he’d never expected. All his life he’d wanted to be alone. He’d never wanted or needed anyone, or so he’d told himself. What a damn lie that had been. Arno murmured an endearment and reached between them, curling his fist around Zamiel’s cock and stroking. Zamiel closed his eyes and enjoyed the lustful sensations coursing through him. The only thing that would make this magical night perfect would be having Mitzi here. Tomorrow. Then they would talk about sealing their trio for life.

***** Arno and Zamiel left at dawn. They arrived at Zamiel’s nest before Mitzi, so decided to spend time training. She arrived toward the end of an intense midair sparring match, but this time she didn’t interfere. When Zamiel cawed for the end of the session, all three swooped toward the river. They playfully dragged their talons on the surface before landing in shallow water and changing to their human form. “I missed you guys.” Mitzi reached first for Arno, who stood closest to her, giving him an enthusiastic hug and kiss. When she reached for Zamiel, he held her tightly and spoke in her ear. “I know all about it, you little liar.” His chilly tone took Arno aback and Mitzi’s smile faded. She tensed in his arms and tried to pull away, but he held her fast for several seconds. Finally he allowed her to

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step back and she held his gaze, defiant, though Arno didn’t doubt she felt at least some apprehension. What the hell was going on? He thought Zamiel had gotten over his anger at their secret. “Funny, Zamiel, you didn’t look angry a few minutes ago,” she said. “I’m not angry,” he said. “Arno explained that you supposedly didn’t want to lie.” “What do you mean supposedly?” She glared. “You’re going to let this one thing fuck up years of friendship?” Zamiel raised an eyebrow. “Friendship? I’d say we have much more than that.” “So would I,” she agreed. “What do you think we have, Mitzi? Love?” She glanced at Arno, who shrugged in confusion. He hadn’t seen this coming. What was Zamiel’s game? A quirky smile touched Mitzi’s lips and she took two steps back from Zamiel. “You’re not going to play me like this.” “I’ve never played you, Mitzi. But you played me, didn’t you? All that crap about trust and honesty.” “Are you for real?” She curled her lip. “The one time I kept something from you, for a damn good reason, and you act like I’ve committed some kind of crime. Zamiel, if I had to put you down for every stupid, inconsiderate thing you’ve done to me, we’d never be on speaking terms.” Rage flashed across his eyes and he clenched his fists, but when he spoke a moment later, he seemed in complete control. “I realize I haven’t been an ideal companion.” Mitzi snorted with humorless laughter. “However, you both know how I feel about my ancestral flock. You should have told me.” “Arno must have—” “I didn’t,” Arno said quietly. “It seems I did some talking in my sleep when I was injured. He’s known about my flock from the first.” Mitzi’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Finally she said, “Speaking of lying and secret keeping. You could have told us you knew.” “I could have, but I wanted to see how long you’d side against me.” “Damn you!” Mitzi shoved him full in the chest. He scarcely moved and that only seemed to inflame her anger. “When are you going to get it through your head that not everyone is against you? What is wrong with you, Zamiel? I’ve had it. If you don’t know I’m on your side, if you don’t love me by now, then you’re never going to. You want to spend the rest of your life alone? Fine. I hope you have a wonderful love-hate affair. Just you and you.”

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Mitzi changed to her bird form and rose quickly from the lake, spraying both males with water.

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Chapter Eight “Mitzi!” Arno shouted. He was about to fly after her, but Zamiel had already ascended. She was flying fast, but he overtook her with an especially possessive mating pass. Shrieking in anger, she snapped her beak at him and they locked talons. She tried to fly off, but he made another mating pass, and this time when their bodies locked she didn’t try to stop him. They dropped quickly toward the lake where Arno waited, his heart pounding in anticipation. Of all the Raptvyns in the mountains, he had to choose two crazy ones. But he completely adored them in spite of their wild, unreasonable ways. Zamiel and Mitzi landed in the water a short distance from Arno. Their bodies still pressed close, they changed to human form. Grasping her waist, Zamiel tugged her closer and gazed into her eyes. “I do love you. I have for a long time, but I couldn’t… These past days with you and Arno have made me think.” “Yeah?” She tried to sound haughty, but the love in her eyes overruled her tone. “Think about what?” Zamiel’s lips parted and he drew a sharp breath, then glanced at Arno. “What have you been thinking about?” Arno asked, his voice husky. This was too incredible. After all this time, had he finally found his mates? Walking toward Mitzi and Zamiel, he felt his heart flutter with anticipation. Zamiel took Arno’s and Mitzi’s hands. His eyes gleamed with emotion and he looked so torn that Arno actually felt sorry for him. To a man who had convinced himself he belonged alone, who had hardened himself to any vulnerabilities, including love, this moment must be monumental. If only they could somehow make Zamiel see that love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. “Mating,” Zamiel finally said, glancing from Mitzi to Arno. “Permanently.” “Finally.” Mitzi raised her eyes to the heavens, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I was starting to think I wasted the best years of my life chasing a bird who couldn’t care less.” Zamiel slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her to his side, his gaze meeting hers. “You haven’t had the best years of your life yet.” “None of us have,” Arno said, tightening his grip on his hand. With a slight, affectionate smile, Zamiel pulled Arno closer and brushed his mouth with a kiss.

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“Maybe we should fly to the nest. We have plenty to talk about,” Mitzi suggested. “Good idea,” Arno said. “But a bath first. We’ve been training all morning.” A short time later, they sat in Zamiel’s nest drinking herbal tea and making plans for their mating ritual.

***** The following day, Zamiel sat in the treetop shelter belonging to the leader of Mitzi’s flock, a lean, white-haired Raptvyn called Bobek. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Zamiel said. Bobek nodded and gestured for Zamiel to continue. Over the years he had built a profitable relationship with Bobek’s flock, but Zamiel also liked the old leader. He appreciated his strength tempered by wisdom. Though it had taken time and effort to prove himself worthy to the flock leader, Zamiel knew Bobek had come to favor him. He’d asked Zamiel to join the flock as a hunter with the opportunity for advancement into the guard. Several times Zamiel had seriously considered accepting. Now he had good reason. “Is the offer to join your flock as a hunter still open?” The older Raptvyn’s lips remained set in a grim line, though a smile touched his eyes. “Yes. What changed your mind about joining us?” “Arno, from Vlad’s flock, and I intend to mate with your female, Mitzi.” This time Bobek did smile ever so slightly. “Ah. Mitzi intends to bring us two respectable members.” “Arno plans to ask you for membership during the meeting he scheduled tomorrow.” “Good. When do you want to start working for us?” “I will need one week to fulfill my obligations, then I’m yours.” Though he remained outwardly calm and collected, inside Zamiel’s stomach fluttered. For the first time in his adult life, he would be giving up his freedom and binding himself to a flock. But with that obligation came Arno and Mitzi and they were well worth the tradeoff. Just a short time ago, he’d never thought of being anything but a rogue, now he couldn’t imagine a future without his lovers. “The time is granted,” Bobek stated. “You may discuss payment and duties with the lead hunter. I will inform him and he’ll send a message when he’s ready to meet with you.” “Thank you.” Zamiel nodded, his gaze still fixed on Bobek’s. “If you have the time, I’d like to discuss living arrangements for me and my mates.” The leader nodded and the conversation continued. After the meeting, Zamiel flew back to his nest. When he landed, Arno and Mitzi approached him, as eager to hear what happened as Zamiel was to tell them. Odd, but

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he’d never felt so thrilled in his life. For so long he’d feared tying himself to anyone or anything, but the thought of a permanent mating with his lovers excited him more than he’d imagined possible. “Well?” Mitzi demanded. “What did he say? Did you get the job?” “Yes. Mitzi, you and Arno will need to make arrangements with the Shaman for the date of the mating ritual. The rest of this week I’ll be tying up business with several flocks, so I probably won’t be around much.” Arno glanced at Mitzi. “While he’s busy, we can talk to the Shaman.” “Good idea,” she said. “What about a nesting ground?” Arno asked Zamiel. “Bobek gave us a couple of good choices. We can have a large area on the outskirts of flock territory or a smaller area close to the Convocation Clearing. They both have pros and cons. The land on the outskirts has endless possibilities for nesting and, of course, privacy. The place near the Convocation Clearing has a couple of excellent trees where we could build a decent nest and it’s also closer to the guards in case of emergency or battle.” “That’s something to consider for when we have nestlings,” Mitzi said. “True,” Arno agreed. “But think of the noise being close to the Convocation Clearing.” Mitzi and Arno shrugged and turned to Zamiel, who said, “It’s up to you two. I’ve already checked out both places and they look good to me.” “How close to the Convocation Clearing?” Mitzi asked. “Why don’t we go take a look?” Arno suggested. “Good idea,” Zamiel said. “Let’s go.” Mitzi agreed, eager for a flight, since she was far too excited to hang around the nest. She could scarcely believe that, after waiting so long, she was finally mating. She loved Arno and Zamiel so much and could scarcely wait to start their life together. After seeing both areas, Mitzi had to admit they each had merit, however her maternal instincts rose and she expressed a preference for nesting closer to the Convocation Clearing. Back at the nest, they sat beneath the sheltered half drinking herbal tea. Cuddled beneath blankets for warmth since the night was surprisingly cool for summertime, they discussed their future. “Who votes for what area?” Zamiel asked. “I want to know so I can start planning the nest.” Mitzi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean you? Who says it’s your project only?” “Mitz, look at your nests and look at this,” Zamiel waved his hand.

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“He’s got a point,” Arno admitted, then nudged Zamiel in the ribs. “Before you look too pleased with yourself, Mitzi is right that we all should have some say in it since we’re going to live there. Besides, you shouldn’t have to do all the work.” “Don’t worry. I have every intention of delegating. I’m here to oversee.” Lifting an eyebrow, Mitzi said, “You better be teasing.” “Moderately,” Zamiel said. “I’ve given you two complete freedom with the mating ritual, so do us all a favor and let me plan the nest.” “Fine.” Mitzi raised her eyes to the heavens. “Do whatever you want, Zamiel. If the new nest is as nice as this one, I’m not going to complain.” “It’ll be better.” Zamiel glanced around and sighed. “But I’m going to miss this place.” “It’s not the nest, but who you’ve got in it.” Arno smiled, slipping an arm around Zamiel and burying his lips against his neck. “Umm.” Mitzi leaned closer to their rogue and caressed his chest. “Arno has a point. It’s chilly and I can think of a couple of ways to keep warm. Either we sprout feathers or…” She let her voice fade as she slipped beneath the blanket to lick and kiss Zamiel’s muscle-ridged stomach. She swirled her tongue around his navel while caressing his inner thigh. “I like her idea,” Zamiel murmured. “Me too,” Arno said. Mitzi grasped Zamiel’s cock and took it between her lips. She loved the feeling of his shaft against her hands and the thick, satiny head on her tongue. “Mmm,” she purred against him. Nothing brought her pleasure like touching and loving her males, except being touched and loved by them. “Arno, the herbs,” Zamiel murmured. Even in the midst of pleasure, he remained sensible. They’d discussed nestlings and agreed to take the time to settle into their new life before having their first clutch. Both Arno and Mitzi could scarcely wait to have nestlings, in particular Zamiel’s, yet they knew better than to push their rogue too far too fast. Zamiel had learned to harden himself to the world around him, but deep inside he had doubts, fears and memories that kept him from embracing happiness as quickly as most men. To her and Arno, he was worth the wait. They would never find a more loyal mate, willing to give them his entire heart and soul. Arno’s hand on her back roused her from her carnal feast on Zamiel’s cock. She glanced up and met the blond’s gaze. Desire glistened in his thickly lashed blue eye. She took the mug he handed her and drank the herbal mixture. Zamiel lifted his head and also drank. While Arno placed the mug aside, Mitzi returned to Zamiel’s cock. She sucked, licked and swirled her tongue over the head. One hand caressed his staff and the other cupped his balls. 89

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She felt Arno’s warm hand on her back. His feathery touch roamed over her shoulders and down her spine. Placing his hands on her waist, he kissed the sensitive flesh of her lower back and dipped his tongue between her ass cheeks. She moaned with pleasure and squirmed while her lips and tongue kept busy with Zamiel’s cock. The rogue’s fingers sifted through her hair and he said, “Woman, you have a beautiful mouth and a tongue found only in dreams.” Her belly tightened with pleasure. Zamiel wasn’t known for his words, but sometimes he thought of the sweetest things to say. Just when the tension in his body told her he was about to come, he cupped her head and gently tugged her upward. She smiled and slid up his body until they lay breast to chest. His hands still in her hair, he drew her face even closer for a kiss. Their tongues thrust against each other with tender strokes. She felt Zamiel reach for Arno and moved slightly aside so they could both drape the rogues’ powerful body. Arno and Zamiel kissed long and deep. When their lips finally parted, Arno turned to Mitzi and kissed her as well. She tasted the heady combination of both men’s essences on his mouth. Groaning softly with desire, she nibbled Arno’s lower lip and ran her hand up his arm. “You’re both irresistible,” Zamiel said. His lips brush Arno’s forehead, then Mitzi’s. “Thanks,” Arno replied, covering Zamiel’s face with kisses. “But ladies first.” The blond sat up and pushed Mitzi onto her back. She allowed him to position her as he pleased, curious what plans her mates had for her tonight. Arno knelt behind her head while Zamiel knelt by her legs, guiding them around his waist. He filled her drenched pussy with his cock and thrust over and over. Mitzi thought the sensations rolling through her couldn’t get any better. Then Zamiel began rubbing her clit with his thumb and Arno covered her mouth with a kiss, absorbing her moans of pleasure. Her tongue and lips moved against Arno’s and she closed her eyes tightly, her mind and body completely absorbed in sensation. Arno fondled her breasts, pinching and tugging her nipples. The almost overwhelming pleasure of being teased by both men made her heart beat out of control and her entire body flush with desire. The orgasm struck her with such force that for several seconds everything went black. When she opened her eyes, she saw Arno and Zamiel beside her, locked in a passionate kiss, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. The sight of her two gorgeous mates loving each other aroused her greatly in spite of the powerful orgasm she’d just experienced. Zamiel turned Arno so that he faced the wall. Still on their knees, Zamiel claimed him from behind. Unable to resist adding to their pleasure, Mitzi crawled in front of Arno, grasped his cock and used her tongue to flick the swollen head.

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Groaning, Arno braced his hands against her shoulders. She didn’t doubt the intensity of the pleasure he felt, with Zamiel’s cock teasing his ass and her lips and tongue busy on his cock. In mere moments, both males came. Their guttural cries filled the nest before all three curled up on the blankets and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

***** The following morning, Zamiel left the nest at the crack of dawn, since he had a long flight ahead of him to a flock in Canada that sometimes used him as a substitute trainer for their hunters. Several hours later, Arno and Mitzi flew to her flock, where he met with Bobek, then both he and Mitzi spoke to the Shaman. They decided the mating ritual would take place in one month. Afterward, they flew to Mitzi’s parents’ nest to tell them and her youngest sister they had decided to mate. Though her family congratulated them and seemed genuinely pleased that Arno would be joining their family, they expressed some concern about Zamiel. “He’s been a rogue all his life,” said Mathias, her blood father. Tall and big-boned with ebony skin and a trimmed black and gray beard, he was one of the flock’s most experienced hunters and a man of strong family values. Mitzi said that while he admired Zamiel as a warrior, he’d never understood his decision not to join a flock. “He’s already asked to join our flock,” Mitzi explained. “We both have,” Arno added. “What about work?” asked Mitzi’s second father, a lean, pale-skinned Raptvyn with dark blond hair now streaked with white. “Zamiel has been accepted as a hunter and Bobek has asked me to continue as a trade manager with my ancestral flock, except now I’ll be representing us.” Mitzi’s fathers looked somewhat reassured. “Where will you be nesting?” her mother asked. Smiling, Mitzi said, “That’s the best part. We’ll be on the east side, just outside the Convocation Clearing. That’s only a short flight from here.” Her mother appeared thoroughly pleased with this news. They spent the rest of the afternoon with Mitzi’s mother and sister, writing the wedding invitations on slips of parchment. After Zamiel approved them, they would be delivered. It was late when Zamiel finally returned to the nest. Arno and Mitzi had caught and prepared a delicious fish dinner, and while they ate, Zamiel read the invitations. “Is there anyone you want to invite besides Toni and his family?” Mitzi asked. Zamiel shook his head and glanced at Arno. “I didn’t see an invitation for your friend Jindra.”

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In truth, Arno wanted Jindra and his mate, Parker, at the ritual but knew how Zamiel felt about sons of Rostya. Jindra was his best friend, but Zamiel was his mate. “I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with Jindra present.” “He’s your closest friend, isn’t he?” “Well, yes, but—” “If that’s the case, I want to know him better.” This gesture of love touched Arno deeply and he slipped his arms around Zamiel’s neck. The rogue embraced him tightly. When they parted, Arno noticed Mitzi smiling at them. “I’ve got to be in love,” she said. “I think you guys are so damn cute.” “Mitzi, please.” Zamiel wrinkled his nose in disgust. “All right, all right,” she muttered. “Arno, it would be a little awkward inviting Jindra without his mate.” “I would like Parker to come too, but as you know, he’s human. I doubt Bobek will allow him on flock territory. If we can work it out with Bobek and the Shaman, I believe Vlad would allow us to have the ritual on my ancestral flock’s territory.” “Fine,” Zamiel said, reaching for a second helping of fish. “Whatever you need to do.” “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting really excited about this.” Mitzi grinned. Zamiel exchanged glances with Arno and said, “She’s excited. That’s a good thing.” “We can work with that.” Arno lifted an eyebrow and cast her a seductive look. He slid closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her earlobe between his teeth. He nibbled gently and traced the shape of her ear until a little tremor of passion darted through her. “I didn’t mean that kind of excited,” Mitzi sighed with pleasure as he cupped her breast and ran his thumb over the nipple, making it harden to an enticing peak. “But if you insist.” “We insist,” Zamiel said and stretched out on his side. He slid his hands under her bottom and lapped her clit. Arno lay beside her and grasped her breasts, pressing his face between the smooth, fragrant spheres. He took her nipple between his lips and teased it with his teeth and tongue. His fingers fondled her other nipple and caressed her side. He felt her heart throbbing against his palm and heard the excitement in her voice with every gasp and moan. He loved the heat of her body, the feeling of her fingers in his hair and the way her muscles tightened and quivered as she came. Already joined in their hearts, he could scarcely wait for the ritual that would shout to the world that he, Zamiel and Mitzi were mates for life.

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***** Two days later, Arno left Raptvyn country and headed for New York City where Jindra and his mate, Dr. Parker Rigby, lived. Though he had spent time among humans in the past and found the experience enjoyable for the most part, Arno could never be comfortable living with them permanently. In a way, he admired Jindra’s versatility. He arrived at Jindra’s place of business, From Paws to Wings. Located in a suburb of New York City, From Paws to Wings included a renovated farmhouse used for the pet detective agency and grooming, a climate-controlled barn for boarding animals and a new structure built especially for the raptor sanctuary that cared for injured or abandoned young raptors so they could be released into the wild. Stepping into the farmhouse decorated in cheerful colors, Arno was greeted by Jindra’s close friend and business partner Jesse. She was seated behind one of the three desks in the spacious reception area, talking on the telephone. Tall and lanky with a fresh, pretty face, she smiled and waved to Arno. Usually Raptvyns weren’t especially fond of werewolves, but Jesse was an exception. Her entire pack was rather unusual in many ways. Most of them lived in the city and had started an organization that welcomed all varieties of shape shifters who sought to make their place among humans. “Arno, hey!” Jesse said, hanging up the telephone. She stood from her desk and approached with a warm handshake. “How are you feeling, babe?” “I’m fully recovered, thanks,” Arno said. “Is Jindra around?” “He’s at the Raptor Sanctuary with Max, trying to give him some experience with barn owls.” Arno raised an eyebrow. Max Newly, Jesse’s boyfriend and one of the newest employees at From Paws to Wings, was a Dusk Thief. Not the ideal choice for a bird handler. Dusk Thieves shifted from human form to a creature that combined raccoon and badger-like characteristics. In general, they were solitary with sour dispositions. Though Newly certainly had the traditional Dusk Thief personality, he didn’t like the lonely lifestyle of his species. Jindra and Jesse had been doing their best to socialize Newly. Unfortunately, Jesse’s idea of “socializing” meant getting pregnant by the Dusk Thief. “How’s it going?” Arno asked. “Well, Jindra hasn’t tried to peck out Max’s eyeballs yet, so I’m assuming he’s doing all right. Honestly, Max has been trying hard to fit in since he found out I’m breeding.” “Speaking of that, how are the little ones?” “So far so good,” Jesse said, patting her stomach that had scarcely begun to reveal she carried four werewolf-Dusk Thief babies. “And you?”

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Jesse’s smile faded a bit and she shrugged. “I’m okay.” “Just okay?” “I’m having some pack issues, but nothing I can’t handle. Just—don’t mention anything about that to Max.” “Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.” Considering that Max Newly had a personality like sandpaper, talking as little as possible to him wouldn’t be difficult. Arno sometimes wondered exactly what a pleasant woman like Jesse saw in him. Now that he’d taken up with his own rough-around-the-edges rogue, Arno could understand her attraction to Newly a bit more. Maybe the Dusk Thief had something deep inside that attracted Jesse. Not all good qualities were immediately noticeable. “Newly, I told you a million times you can’t scare the birds like that,” Jindra snapped, stalking through the door with an annoyed look in his gleaming black eyes. The Dusk Thief walked beside him, his shifty blue-gray gaze darting around the room. By nature, Raptvyns and Dusk Thieves weren’t fond of each other. Actually, no species got on well with Dusk Thieves. They could scarcely tolerate each other. Still, Arno had to admit they weren’t a bad-looking lot and he could sort of understand Jesse’s physical attraction to Max. He wasn’t especially tall, a few inches above average, with broad shoulders, longish legs and a sinewy build. His short hair was almost black, and when he shifted shape, he sprouted a sleek pelt from head to toe, brown except for a black and tan tail and a black raccoon-like mask around his eyes. “Everything I do scares the birds.” Newly curled his lip in disgust. “They’re timid creatures, sir.” “Will you stop calling me Sir!” Jindra’s angry look changed to a smile as he caught sight of Arno. “Hey! What are you doing here?” “Does that mean you’re not glad to see me?” Raising his eyes to the heavens, Jindra hauled Arno into a rough embrace. “How are you?” Handing Jindra the invitation, he said, “I’m great actually. I came here to invite you and Parker to my mating ritual.” “Congratulations!” Jindra hugged him again. “You and Mitzi?” “And Zamiel.” Jindra raised an eyebrow. “Now that is a surprise. He’s decided to give up the rogue’s life after all? Is he rejoining the flock?” “No. We’re both joining Mitzi’s, however, your brother has agreed to allow us to have the mating ritual in his Convocation Clearing because we’d really like you and Parker to be there. Bobek doesn’t have anything against humans, but he doesn’t want to invite one into the heart of his flock’s territory, either.” Jindra’s eyes glistened. “You made arrangements to accommodate my mate? I’m…moved.”

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Shaking his head, Arno couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at his lips. Like Zamiel, Jindra often found expressing his innermost emotions difficult. Since meeting Parker, he’d become more open, but Arno knew he was still evolving. “So will you be there?” “I’ll call Parker now, but I’m sure the answer will be yes.” Jindra took his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed his mate. “So someone else is mating,” Newly said in his usual sneering voice. He stared hard at Jesse, who pretended not to notice. The Dusk Thief didn’t let her off the hook that easily. “What do you think of that, Jesse?” “I think it’s great,” she said. “I’m happy for them.” “How come you think mating rituals are just fine for everyone else, but not for us?” “Max, I don’t want to talk about this now.” Newly made a grating, growling sound deep in his chest. That sound was distinctive to Dusk Thieves and nearly caused Arno to grit his teeth. It reminded him, as humans would say, of nails on a chalkboard. No wonder Jesse didn’t want to mate. Imagine listening to that every night when you were trying to fall asleep. “No matter when I ask you about mating, you say you don’t want to talk about it. We have to talk about it sometime, woman. You’re carrying my kits—” “Pups,” Jesse corrected. “Werewolves have pups, Newly.” “Dusk Thieves have kits. I am their father, so they will be called kits.” Jesse stood nose to nose with Newly and spoke through clenched teeth. “Pups.” “Kits.” “Pups.” “Kits.” “Pups.” “Can you believe I have to listen to this all day long?” Jindra, still waiting for Parker to pick up the phone, raised his eyes to the heavens. The conversation seemed so ridiculous that Arno had to stifle laughter. Something told him the werewolf and Dusk Thief wouldn’t take kindly to him finding humor in their domestic struggles. Before they could continue the argument, Arno said, “Jesse, we would have asked you and Max to come to the ritual, but—” “Please.” Jesse held up a hand. “We understand. If your flock leader wasn’t Jindra’s brother, there’s no way Parker could have come either. We know about shape shifters and their lack of trust for other species. My pack can be like that. We might help people fit in with humans, but when it comes to slipping into our ranks, it’s next to impossible.” “Dusk Thieves don’t even have mating rituals,” Max said.

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Arno turned to him with interest. The Dusk Thief rarely offered any kind of personal information. Apparently Jindra and Jesse’s socializing was starting to work on him. “So how do you…you know,” Arno asked. “Make baby Dusk Thieves?” Again Newly curled his lip. This guy seemed to spend his entire life annoyed. “We make little Dusk Thieves the same way you make little birdies. We just don’t mate permanently.” “And there’s no pillow talk,” Jesse muttered. Newly shot her a quelling look. “I don’t mean you, Newly.” She smirked. “Even though you have come a long way, boy.” Arno’s brow furrowed. “You mean there’s no emotional relationship at all between Dusk Thieves?” “I tried talking to a female once during mating season. She booted me out of her den before we could get anything done.” “He’s still got scars from her teeth on his little butt cheek,” Jesse chuckled. The ridges of Max’s cheekbones actually turned scarlet. “You have a sick sense of humor, woman. That’s not funny.” “I’m sorry, Max.” Jesse slipped her arms around Max’s neck and kissed his cheek. He gave another low growl, but some of the anger faded from his eyes. Arno thought about what Newly had said. No wonder he’d come to the city. There had to be a good reason for an irritable creature such as a Dusk Thief to live among humans. A social Dusk Thief was as strange as a solitary Raptvyn. It seemed Max Newly was a misfit among misfits. At that moment, Jindra turned off his phone and said, “It’s all set, Arno. Parker and I will be there for the ritual.” “Great. Uh, Jindra, when you meet Zamiel… He’s a little rough around the edges, and as you can imagine, he wasn’t too fond of your father.” “In other words, prepare myself for a fight at your mating ritual? Maybe we shouldn’t come. I don’t want to ruin—” “No. Zamiel wanted you to come. He’s trying so hard to abandon his rogue’s ways for me and Mitzi, but I know his good intentions might backfire. He has quite a temper and I know you do too.” “Don’t worry, Arno. I’ll do everything in my power to get along with him.” “Thanks.” “Are you staying in the city for a while? Do you want to come to dinner tonight with me and Parker?”

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“I’d love to, but Mitzi is waiting for me. We have a lot to do before the ritual. And we’ve got a new nest to build. Of course, Zamiel wants to do that almost singlehandedly.” Raising an eyebrow, Jindra said, “Hmm. Sounds like Zamiel likes his own way.” “Zamiel and Mitzi both like their own way. Sometimes I feel like I’m fledglingsitting.” A slight smile tugged at Jindra’s lips. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?” “No.” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this happy.” “Because I’ve never been this happy. I hope nothing messes up.” “Arno.” Jindra placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Life is about ups and downs. Enjoy yourself. You’ve found your mates.” Jindra was right. It was just that Arno had never imagined loving two people as much as he loved Mitzi and Zamiel.

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Chapter Nine Early the following week, Zamiel and Arno stood beside Bobek in his treetop shelter, facing the Convocation Clearing. Dozens of flock members, including Mitzi and her parents, gathered around. Bobek cawed for silence, then addressed the crowd. “Today our flock grows. Most of you know Arno and have at least heard of Zamiel by his reputation. They are soon to become the mates of one of our females, Mitzi. Arno is joining our trade team and Zamiel is now one of our permanent hunters. From this day forward, in accordance with the Raptvyn Creed, they are members of our flock with all the respect and privileges of our brothers and sisters.” The Raptvyns chirped and cawed their welcomes, then Bobek adjourned the meeting and everyone went about their daily business. Zamiel and Arno flew out of the shelter and landed below for a brief meeting with Mitzi. “Well, I’m off to meet with the trade manager,” Arno said. “I’m looking forward to it. I know everybody on the trade team and we get along well.” “I’m being initiated into the hunters this morning,” Zamiel said, “so I need to go. I’ll probably be home late tonight, so don’t hold dinner.” “All right. The huntresses have a training session starting in a few minutes and I’ll be there for a couple of hours, then I’ll be at our new nesting site gathering material. Don’t give me that look, Zamiel. I won’t make any major additions without talking to you first.” A slight smile tugged at the corners of Zamiel’s lips. He knew that when it came to building nests he was a control freak, but he had very definite ideas for this new nest. He was sure his mates would like the finished product. Besides, they admitted he was better at building nests than they were. They had already agreed he was to be the primary supporter while they took over the domestic chores. Not that he didn’t want to be involved in raising nestlings when they came, but he didn’t consider himself particularly nurturing. Young birds needed tenderness as well as discipline and he feared he lacked the former. If not for Arno and Mitzi, he’d never even consider having a clutch. One of his greatest concerns was that his harsh life had destroyed his ability to be a good parent. What if it had also ruined his ability to be a good mate? He knew he had a foul temper and could be cold and solitary. Was mating a mistake? “What’s wrong?” Mitzi asked, reaching for Zamiel’s hand.

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“Nothing. I just have things on my mind.” He kissed her, then Arno. “I need to go. See you tonight.” As he shifted shape and ascended, he felt their gazes upon him, but he didn’t look back. Right now he couldn’t dwell on his stupid fears about mating. Wasn’t it natural to get nervous before the ritual? At the moment, he needed to focus on his job. Hunters could be nearly as difficult as warriors, so if he intended to not only survive, but perhaps one day be promoted into the flock guard, he couldn’t drag his personal issues into his duty. He joined the hunters flying north of the Convocation Clearing. Their leader, a Raptvyn of about Zamiel’s age called Steiner, welcomed him and sent him directly to his duty. Having worked with this flock many times before, Zamiel got along well with most of the hunters. That afternoon, several guards joined them. Sometimes, when not busy with battles or emergencies, members of the guard participated in the hunt to help with the workload and keep their skills sharp. There had always been friction between Zamiel and Ondro, a leader in the flock guard. As a rogue, Zamiel could choose which Raptvyns he associated with. As a member of the flock and a permanent hunter, he no longer had that luxury. Ondro’s position in the guard commanded respect, and whether or not Zamiel liked it, by flock law he must give it. The tall, powerfully built chestnut-haired warrior approached Zamiel in a clearing where he’d landed to add his catch to the pile of carcasses collected by the hunters. “Zamiel,” Ondro said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He gestured sharply for Zamiel to join him by the trunk of an especially large tree. “Yes?” Zamiel replied, meeting Ondro’s black gaze. Ondro was about ten years younger than Zamiel. Ambitious and an excellent warrior in his late twenties, he had few admirable qualities outside of battle. Arrogant and conceited, he enjoyed bullying less powerful creatures. Zamiel could scarcely stomach the sight of him, yet he purposely appeared impassive. “Yes what?” Ondro snapped. “Yes, Sir.” Yes, you dickless young freak. I’d love to peck your eyeballs out. Curling his lip, Ondro continued, “I know that for some reason Bobek likes you. I know he’s allowed you to marry into our flock and live on our territory, but hear this, you will never be one of us. Never. The most you can hope for is to be tolerated as long as you work hard and remember your place. Understood?” “I’m sure I can handle that,” Zamiel replied in a deadly soft voice. Ondro shook his head and glanced away in disgust. “Bobek is getting old. Soft. With his sons dead and me his nephew, I’m next in line for leadership. Nothing will stop me from taking my rightful place.” “Bobek will be a hard act to follow. He has the loyalty of the flock.”

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A look of anger passed over Ondro’s face and he gritted his teeth. “One day I’ll rule this flock, so it’s best to get on my good side.” When Zamiel made no reply, Ondro turned to him again. Their gazes locked and Zamiel wondered if Ondro was intelligent enough to gauge the level of hatred in his eyes. “That’s all. Get back to work.” Ondro waved his hand. Zamiel continued staring at him hard for several seconds before turning away.

***** A week before the mating ritual, Mitzi and her mates had the foundation of their nest nearly complete. They’d all worked hard on it, but Zamiel had spent most of his free time there, often laboring until well into the night. Arno had been especially busy, since these were prime months for the trade business among Raptvyn flocks. In the winter he would have far less work. Mitzi spent hours cleaning and consolidating her nest as well as those of her mates. After a lengthy discussion, she had agreed to devote most of her time to caring for the home, which would be fine with her once they had their first clutch. Until then, she didn’t want to spend all her time at the nest. She refused to give up her place as a hunter and gatherer, so made part-time work arrangements. Many of the huntresses worked by part-time rotation, since most already had families and were understanding about covering for one another. Mitzi had an independent streak, but she had to admit it felt rather good having two mates so willing to support her. Maybe one day she’d be ready to give up hunting and gathering completely, but not now. At the moment, she was busy lining the nest with leaves and soft grass while Arno assisted Zamiel with strengthening the already solid foundation. “Are you guys ready for lunch?” Mitzi called. Arno chirped his reply, and moments later, he and Zamiel joined her in the nest where she’d set the meal. They changed to their man forms, both sweaty and streaked with dirt, twigs in their hair and leaves stuck to their arms and chests. Though she had to admit their disheveled appearance turned her on, she wrinkled her nose and said, “You guys look charming.” Arno glanced down at his filthy body then turned to Zamiel. “Maybe we should have gone to the lake first.” “We’re not finished work for today.” Zamiel reached for a handful of nuts and berries. “I’m hungry.” “Ever the gentleman,” Mitzi muttered. “You’ve got him if you want a gentleman.” Zamiel nodded toward Arno.

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“I don’t know. The way you’ve been training me for battle, you’ve started to corrupt me,” Arno teased. Mitzi’s stomach tightened with desire and she placed a hand behind Zamiel’s neck, tugging him closer and spoke against his lips, “He has that effect on people, doesn’t he?” Before Zamiel retorted, she covered his mouth in a probing kiss. Her tongue thrust between his lips and did sensual battle with his. Another thrill of passion darted through her. He tasted of berries and a delicious flavor all his own. Zamiel groaned with desire, pushed aside the bowls of food and dragged Mitzi onto his knees. She eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist while he slid his hands under her bottom and raised her slightly as he straightened his legs. Slipping her hands over his damp chest, she tightened her fingers on the solid muscles, feeling them tense and release. She stroked his shoulders and gripped his back. His rock-hard cock pressed against her clit and she thrust against it, rubbing while he kissed her breathless. Heavens, she was so ready for him! As if sensing her desire, he reached between them and used his fingers to stroke her pussy and clit until she teetered on the edge of climax, then he shifted their position and his thick, hard cock filled her. It felt too good for words. Her eyes opened wide and she drew a sharp breath. Clinging to Zamiel’s neck, her hands stroking and kneading his back as their bodies rocked in unison, she caught sight of Arno seated close by. The blond Raptvyn stared at them with lust in his gleaming blue eye. He blinked slowly, licking berry juice from his fingers while he curled his other hand around his erection and stroked to their rhythm. Then Mitzi came. Her eyes closed tightly and wave after wave of pleasure broke over her. A primitive cry erupted from Zamiel’s throat and he pushed her onto her back, thrusting fast and hard. He exploded, every muscle tight and straining as he climaxed. He relaxed atop her, his hot, damp body pinning her to the bottom of the nest. Mitzi stroked his shoulders and back. Now that they’d agreed to a permanent mating, Zamiel seemed to trust her more about her egg laying cycles. At one time, he never would have made love spontaneously like this without the ingestion of birth control herbs. It was good to know that when she told him she wasn’t near egg laying time, he finally believed her. Their breathing returned to normal and she opened her eyes, noting that Arno was stretched out on his side nearby, a sleepy look in his eye and his cock once again limp, his passion spent. “I can’t wait until the mating ceremony,” Arno murmured. “Me either,” Mitzi said. Zamiel lifted his head, his eyes narrowed in question. “I wonder why we feel that way? We’ve been fucking like pigeons for weeks.”

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“There’s more to mating than fucking,” Mitzi said, shoving him hard. Raising his eyes to the heavens, he rolled off her and stretched out on his back, his eyes closed. “I know. There’s loyalty.” “And love,” Arno said. “Can’t forget about love.” “Can’t he?” Mitzi muttered. “He hates the word.” “I do not.” Zamiel opened his eyes and cast her an annoyed look. “Mitzi, if you’re in the mood to argue, I’m not. I have enough crap going on elsewhere.” “What crap?” Arno prodded. Both he and Mitzi had noticed Zamiel seemed distracted of late, but they had assumed it was because he was so concerned with building the nest and making a place for himself among the flock. “It’s not important.” “Yes, it is,” Mitzi told him, her annoyance fading, replaced by concern. “You haven’t mentioned work since you joined the flock. Are you unhappy as a hunter?” “No. Most of the hunters are very good.” “But do you get along with them?” Arno asked. “Yes. Most.” Mitzi and Arno exchanged glances. Sometimes it was like pulling tail feathers to get Zamiel to open up. “What is the problem then?” Mitzi demanded. “Ondro,” Zamiel stated, his eyes ablaze. “I can’t stand him and he can’t stand me. I’m willing to ignore him, but he does everything in his power to annoy me. It’s as if he’s trying to goad me into fighting with him so I can be reprimanded. If I wasn’t a member of this flock, I’d have sunk my talons into him weeks ago.” This was a problem she should have foreseen, but hadn’t. Zamiel was accustomed to making his own decisions and defending himself against all threats. All his life he’d owed allegiance to no one. Now, as a member of the flock, he must at times bow to less worthy men. It went against his very nature to belly up to anybody. Again she and Arno glanced at each other, then back to Zamiel. His frustration was almost tangible. “If he’s acting that way, then he perceives you as a threat,” Arno said quietly. “Or else he wouldn’t waste his time trying to get you in trouble.” “Makes sense,” Mitzi admitted. “But Ondro also enjoys wheedling others. He’s always been a mean, twisted bird. Buzzard face, my second father calls him. In private, of course.” “Of course,” Zamiel sneered. “As a SQUAWK leader in the guard, he’s a powerful man. People rarely tell powerful men the truth about themselves.” SQUAWK, or Survival Qualifiers Unto Aerial and Woodland Kinsmen, were the elite units that made up the flock guard. The size of the flock dictated how many SQUAWKs were assembled. Bobek’s was a large flock with six SQUAWKs, fully

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manned and ready for action at all times. Needless to say, the six leaders were given great respect and a fair amount of power among other flock members. “He usually throws his weight around with people weaker than himself, though,” Mitzi continued, her brow furrowed. “Unless, as Arno suggests, he sees you as a threat.” “Threat to what?” Zamiel demanded. “I’m a hunter and not even a blood relation to this flock.” “But you are a flock member now. Bobek is still strong, but he isn’t getting any younger,” Arno said. “When he dies or steps down, Ondro is next in line unless another Raptvyn defeats him in the two-day challenge. You’re one of the strongest members of the flock. Maybe he thinks you’ll try to fight him for leadership when the time comes.” “That’s ridiculous. All I want is a good job and a decent home with my mates. I learned the hard way about challenges and leadership. It means nothing. I would never, never, put flock before family, and I have absolutely no desire for leadership.” Mitzi breathed a sigh of relief. For a man of Zamiel’s skill and aggression, the lure of power could be irresistible. Yes she found his warrior side attractive, but most of all she wanted a safe, happy family. That didn’t include challenges against other Raptvyns, in particular vicious, powerful ones like Ondro. She smiled. “I’m glad. I think we’re fine just as we are.” “Providing Zamiel isn’t miserable putting up with Ondro.” “In time he’ll get bored with goading me.” Zamiel shrugged. “I have no intention of giving him the entertainment he’s looking for. Besides, none of this will be a real problem until I’m promoted to the guard and that won’t be for a while.” Mitzi wasn’t so sure about that. A Raptvyn like Zamiel could quickly work his way up in the ranks, not to mention that Bobek liked him. A hint of fear coiled deep inside Mitzi. So much could happen in the future and Zamiel was the sort of man who could only be pushed so far. She prayed Ondro didn’t decide to find out just how far.

***** The mating ceremony arrived with surprising swiftness. It took place on a warm evening in the Convocation Clearing of Arno and Zamiel’s ancestral flock. Torches brightened the area and the scent of flowers and herbs from incense mingled with the aroma of a variety of succulent dishes heating over open fires. Arno and Zamiel used his nest to prepare for the ceremony while Vlad’s mate, Gize, offered Mitzi the use of their nest to get ready. Mitzi’s mother and sisters attended her, but Arno and Zamiel assisted each other. In the wild, Raptvyns didn’t usually wear clothes, however for ceremonies they often adorned themselves with jewelry and paint. Though he had no hesitation about binding himself to Zamiel and Mitzi for life, Arno couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous, or rather excited. He knelt, fidgeting with the rope bracelet on his left wrist while Zamiel stood behind him, braiding his hair.

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“Don’t pull so tight,” Arno said. “I have a headache as it is.” Zamiel gave a low grunt of annoyance but loosened the braid. “It would be easier if you wore your hair down.” “We’re only going to have this mating ceremony once in our lives, so why not look good?” “You sound like Mitzi.” “She’s the one who talked me into the braids,” Arno admitted. Zamiel gave a snort of laughter. “She’s got you henpecked already.” “Excuse me?” Arno snapped. “What’s with the bright blue stripes down your face and the body paint? I distinctly recall Mitzi saying how that color would bring out your eyes. And I just know you’re rolling them now.” Again Zamiel grunted. “Am I right?” Arno pressed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop spinning your head around like an owl instead of a Raptvyn. I’m almost done.” They fell silent while Zamiel finished braiding Arno’s hair. Drawing a deep breath, Arno stood and touched a hand to his head. “All right?” he asked. Zamiel nodded, an uncharacteristically tender expression in his eyes. He reached out and lightly caressed Arno’s face with the back of his hand. “You look…” “Yes?” A slight smile played around Arno’s mouth and his heartbeat quickened. Zamiel was undeniably sexy, but at times like this, when his emotions came through, he was downright irresistible. “Delicious,” Zamiel said, placing a hand to the back of Arno’s neck. He tugged him close and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself,” Arno breathed, his gaze meeting Zamiel’s. Mitzi was absolutely right. With the paint streaking his face, his eyes looked bluer than ever and so incredibly deep. Not to mention the body paint complemented his chiseled physique perfectly. “In fact, you’re so fucking gorgeous that I can hardly keep my hands off you at the moment.” A wild, lustful look sparked Zamiel’s eyes, then he shook his head. “We can’t. The ceremony is going to start any minute, and if we’re late, Mitzi won’t let us hear the end of it.” “You’re right. Besides, we should save it all for tonight. I can scarcely wait to see her. I bet she looks beautiful.” “She’s always beautiful. Both my mates are.” In spite of himself, Arno felt heat creep into his face. “I don’t see you in a mood like this very often. What’s gotten into the rogue Raptvyn?” Zamiel shrugged. “I think this mating ceremony is getting to me. It’s strange.”

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“What?” “I feel like I’ve got a flock of hummingbirds in my stomach.” “You’re not going to back out, are you?” Curling his lip, Zamiel said, “Of course I’m not backing out. What about you?” “I’m not backing out.” “Let’s just hope Mitzi doesn’t change her mind.” Before they could continue the conversation, Mitzi’s second father cawed for them to fly to the Convocation Clearing, as the ceremony was about to begin. “This is it,” Arno said, willing his hands not to tremble. Zamiel drew a deep breath. “Yeah. The last flight as free men.” “Let’s go,” Arno said, shifting shape quickly. Any longer and he feared Zamiel might actually chicken out. Moments later they arrived at the Convocation Clearing. The guests had gathered in a circle around the Shaman, who stood awaiting the principal members of the ceremony. Arno and Zamiel landed in front of him and changed to their man form. A Raptvyn choir sang a hauntingly beautiful song, using both human and bird voices, and the guests cleared a path down which Mitzi walked. Purple and white flowers adorned her flowing black hair and she wore a long necklace with a polished quartz amulet that rested between her full, luscious brown breasts. Arno felt a rush of appreciation for her beauty. He glanced at Zamiel, who stared at Mitzi with lust and affection gleaming in his eyes. The rogue turned to Arno and they smiled at each other. “She’s gorgeous,” Arno murmured. Seeming at a loss for words, Zamiel nodded slowly and drew a sip of air through parted lips. Approaching her mates, Mitzi smiled at them, looking as thrilled as Arno felt. This was the moment they’d spent their lives waiting for. The choir ended their song and the Shaman glanced at the trio. “Do you have a head of the family?” Traditionally, one member of a pair or trio was called the head, similar to an alpha among werewolves. In modern times, it wasn’t a requirement and some Raptvyn families, depending on the personalities of their members, chose not to select a head of family during the mating ceremony. “Yes. Zamiel is our head of family,” Arno and Mitzi responded in unison. The Shaman nodded and motioned for Zamiel to stand between his mates. He chanted the traditional words of joining, first while resting his hand on Zamiel’s head, then Arno’s and Mitzi’s together. Finally he chanted to all three as a trio, then asked them to pledge their loyalty to each other for life.

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“The ceremony has ended. You’re joined now and always,” the Shaman said, and the guests chirped and cawed for the newly mated trio. Zamiel embraced Mitzi and Arno tightly and she kissed both her mates before family and friends swooped in to congratulate them. Jindra approached, his human mate Parker at his side. Arno had to admit they made a fine couple, both tall with dark hair and lean, athletic builds. “Congratulations.” Jindra embraced Arno tightly and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy for you.” “Thanks.” Arno couldn’t help feeling a bit choked up. Not only was Jindra his oldest friend, but they had been lovers, kindred spirits, when they went through dark times in their youth. “Good luck and many happy years together,” Parker said, embracing Arno as Jindra turned to congratulate Mitzi. Smiling, Arno nodded then focused his attention worriedly on Zamiel and Jindra, who now faced each other. “Zamiel, this is Jindra and Parker.” Both warriors stared hard at each other for a moment, Zamiel’s pale blue eyes on Jindra’s obsidian ones. Jindra extended his hand and Arno sighed with relief when Zamiel took it. “Congratulations. You’re getting a fantastic mate.” Jindra glanced at Arno, then turned back to Zamiel and smiled slightly. “Should I say two fantastic mates.” “Thank you for coming,” Zamiel said, and Arno knew how difficult those words must have been for him to say. “I’m honored to be here,” Jindra replied just as formally. Zamiel turned his gaze to Parker. “I’m told you’re a healer—what’s the human word? Doctor.” “Yes. I worked in an ER for years. Now I’m in research. Arno has told us you’re a healer.” “I have been trained, though I’m a hunter by profession. Perhaps we can discuss healing? I have many questions about human methods.” “I’ll be glad to answer.” Arno and Jindra exchanged glances, both a bit surprised. Mitzi also expressed her shock and said, “I didn’t know you spoke human English.” His brow furrowed, Zamiel glanced at her. “Yes. Toni studied with them before our banishment. He taught me. Human medicine interests me very much.” This time Mitzi and Arno looked at each other in surprise, then back to their mate. She continued, “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Zamiel shrugged. “No one ever asked.” It seemed inviting Parker was a better idea then Arno had imagined. 106

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For the next few hours, everyone celebrated in the Convocation Clearing, eating, dancing and playing games. When the moon was high in the sky, the trio decided to return to their nest for a celebration of their own. In honor of their joining, all three had been given the following two days off from their duties. They landed in their nest and Mitzi pulled out several fresh new blankets she’d made especially for this night. “Thank you for getting along so well with Jindra,” Arno said to Zamiel. “He is not entirely like I expected. And his mate is an accomplished healer. He has offered to work with me when he and Jindra visit his flock. I can learn much from him.” “Parker is an excellent doctor and a good person, especially for a human,” Arno said, glancing warily at Zamiel. “And he is quite attractive.” “I didn’t notice.” Mitzi snorted in disbelief. “I’m too busy with my beautiful mates to notice someone else’s,” Zamiel stated. “Oh, he’s irresistible.” Arno smiled, turning to Mitzi. “He even sounds believable.” “I don’t lie,” he said firmly. “No, but you bend the truth beautifully.” Mitzi grinned, slipping her arms around Zamiel’s neck and kissing him deeply. When the kiss broke, she spoke against his lips, “Now, if you guys don’t mind, I’d like to break in these new blankets.” “I’m all for that,” Arno said. With a playful growl, Zamiel scooped Mitzi into his arms, then knelt and placed her on the blankets. Arno joined them, lying beside Mitzi. Zamiel lay to her other side. Placing a hand to her cheek, he tilted her face toward his and kissed her. Arno watched them, his heartbeat quickening with passion. He loved the way their lips moved against each other, the way their eyes closed and Zamiel’s fingers tenderly stroked Mitzi’s face. Arno relished Mitzi’s soft groans and Zamiel’s guttural moans. With Zamiel busy with her mouth, Arno ran his hands down her sleek stomach, over her hips and along her inner thigh. He brushed his thumb over her clit until she shifted her hips and moaned louder. Dipping his fingers into her pussy, he found it hot and wet. He withdrew his fingers and stroked her clit again. Zamiel’s warm, calloused hand covered Arno’s and together they caressed Mitzi. Zamiel moved down her body and took her nipple between his lips. Liking that idea, Arno did the same to her other nipple. He flicked his tongue over the berrylike nub, then nibbled it. By the way Mitzi moaned and arched against them, Arno knew she was enjoying every moment. She wove her fingers through their hair and caressed their shoulders.

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Arno’s fingers stroked faster while Zamiel pushed two fingers inside her. Stimulating her aroused him to a fevered pitch. When he glanced toward Zamiel’s cock, so long, engorged and beautiful, he nearly came then and there. To keep control of his emotions he closed his eyes and concentrated on bringing Mitzi to orgasm. A few more rubs of his fingers and she came, her soft flesh throbbing against her mate’s fingers. He and Zamiel continued stroking her until she lay completely sated. Zamiel gave her nipple one last tug with his lips, making her cry out softly in pleasure. He leaned over her and kissed Arno. “Your turn, love,” Zamiel told Arno in a husky whisper, then spoke into Mitzi’s ear, “Right, beautiful?” She opened her eyes, a sultry smile on her lips, and brushed Zamiel’s mouth with a kiss. “My plan exactly.” She sat up, pushing her mates aside, and crawled over Arno so that he lay between her and Zamiel. Half draped over Arno, she ran her hands over his chest. Arno had always been lean and fit, but since he’d begun training with Zamiel, his muscles had become even more chiseled, thicker and firmer. It was a pleasure to kiss and caress his sinewy form. Obviously, Zamiel felt the same. He knelt by Arno’s legs, stroking the taut thighs, then licking and kissing each leg from inner thigh to ankle. Finally, he knelt between them and sucked Arno’s cock. Mitzi stared for a moment as Zamiel lapped the ruddy, bulging crown of Arno’s erection. Turning her attention back to Arno, she kissed him deeply, thrusting her tongue between his lips. His met it stroke for stroke. She knew by the harshness of his breathing and the way his muscles tensed and fingers tightened in her hair that he was about to come. Her mouth locked over his, she absorbed his cry of rapture as he exploded in Zamiel’s mouth. She broke the kiss and smiled, gazing down at Arno and stroking his face. He looked lovely, so satisfied lying there with his eyes closed and lips parted, drawing deep breaths as his passion ebbed. “Beautiful, isn’t he?” Zamiel remarked quietly, also staring at Arno’s serene face. “Yes,” she said. “Just as you are. I’m…a very lucky man.” Her smile broadened. She turned to Zamiel and kissed him. “Yes.” “About to become even luckier,” Arno said, opening his eyes. “On your back, head of family,” Mitzi ordered. Zamiel narrowed his eyes, an almost reprimanding expression on his face. Bowing her head slightly, though still holding his gaze, Mitzi added, “Please?” Zamiel’s lips curved upward and he lay on his back. His cock rose long and thick from its nest of dark hair. The head emerged past the foreskin, an enticing bulge with a glistening little eye.

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Mitzi pushed down the foreskin and held his quivering staff steady while Arno bent and took the head between his lips. The blond sucked and licked until Zamiel’s chest heaved with excitement and his muscles tensed with impending orgasm. “Let me ride him,” Mitzi said to Arno. With a final flick of his tongue, he moved aside, giving her room to mount Zamiel. As she lowered her wet, throbbing pussy onto his staff, Arno lay beside him. The blond licked and kissed his neck. “Uhh,” Zamiel moaned and tilted his head back. He caressed Arno’s hair with one hand and offered his other hand to Mitzi. She clung to it with both of hers as she rode him faster. The orgasm built deep inside her and she hoped he could control his passion long enough for her to come as well. “Oh gods!” he panted. The last thing Mitzi saw before closing her eyes tightly was Arno sucking Zamiel’s neck and their rogue writhing in exquisite torment as he fought to hold back just a few seconds longer. Mitzi came, pulsing around his steely cock and clinging to his hand. Crying out wildly, Zamiel bucked upward and came into her hot, throbbing body.

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Chapter Ten

Five Months Later Zamiel and several hunters flew across the sky, cutting through the icy wind. Though they didn’t hunt much during the winter months, they still trained daily. Zamiel, in particular, spent much time in flight. He had befriended several guards who often included him in their fighting practice. When, and if, a position opened in the guard, he wanted to be ready. In wintertime it was also easier to avoid Ondro, which made life much more pleasant. Zamiel had settled into flock life more quickly than he’d imagined. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the benefits of living with a flock. Best of all was the closeness he shared with his mates. He loved coming home to them each night, conversing about their day and making love. They fulfilled needs in him he’d previously ignored. How had he spent so many years lonely? Steiner, leader of his group of hunters, cawed for him, telling him that Bobek wanted to speak to him right away. Cawing his reply, Zamiel turned back toward the Convocation Clearing and went directly to Bobek’s treetop shelter. A fire burned in a central pit built into the floor, a kettle heating over it. Bobek sat, sipping warm herbal tea. A heavy cloak made from his own feathers draped his shoulders. Such cloaks were the most comfortable, warm and commonly worn clothes among Raptvyns in their human form. The moment he changed to his man form, Zamiel wished for his cloak. When covered in feathers, especially during the physical exertion of flight, Raptvyns kept warm, but thin man’s flesh wasn’t adequate protection in wintertime. Bobek offered him a blanket and motioned for him to sit. “Tea?” the flock leader asked. “No, thank you, Sir.” “You’ve done well as a hunter in the time you’ve been here. Steiner is pleased with your productivity and dedication. So am I, though I can’t say I expected any less from you.” Zamiel nodded. “I’m here to serve.” Studying Zamiel carefully, Bobek continued, “I called you here to offer you a position in the guard.” Excitement darted through Zamiel, though he remained outwardly calm. This was the chance he’d been waiting for, only he hadn’t imagined the opportunity for advancement would come so soon. 110

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“You know it will mean stricter duties and sometimes longer hours.” “Yes, Sir.” “But it also means more privileges. If you work as hard as you have been as a hunter, you will also have the opportunity for promotion to SQUAWK leader.” That was exactly what Zamiel wanted. “If you accept the position, you will be assigned to Ondro’s SQUAWK.” Damn. Zamiel’s gut tightened. Working under Ondro would be hell, but if he stuck it out, he could one day rise to an equal position of his rival. It was the one way to beat Ondro at his own game. “Think about it,” Bobek said. “I’ll expect your answer tomorrow at noon. You may go.”

***** Mitzi had just finished preparing dinner when Zamiel arrived at the nest. He swooped in, changed to his man form, wrapped her in a firm embrace and placed a smacking kiss on her lips. “What’s gotten into you?” she teased, unable to keep from smiling at the sparkle in his eyes. “Where’s Arno?” “He should be home any minute. I think he had to fly to his ancestral flock for a trade meeting.” “Good. I have something I want to discuss with the two of you.” Mitzi’s pulse skipped. This was just the opportunity she’d been looking for. “It wouldn’t have to do with having a clutch, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t.” Her smile faded and she tugged away from him. “Mitzi, I know you and Arno wanted a clutch right away, but I asked for a little time. I want to make sure my position in the flock is secure before I—” “How much more secure can it get? According to gossip at the Convocation Clearing, you’re one of our top hunters.” “Mitz, please. Just wait a little while longer.” She pouted and turned away from him to rummage through a wooden trunk where they stored their blankets and cloaks. “Don’t be mad. Not tonight.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. She tensed a bit then relaxed as he slid his hand beneath her cloak of feathers and gently fondled her breasts.

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“Put this on before you freeze.” She pulled his cloak from the trunk and thrust it at him. At that moment, Arno dove into the nest and changed to his man form. “Damn, it’s cold,” the blond said, his teeth already chattering. Mitzi tossed his cloak to him and he slipped it on. “I hate snow and ice,” Arno muttered. “When you land, it gets caught between your talons.” “Wimp,” Zamiel teased. “Don’t start with me.” Arno gave him a playful shove in the chest and Zamiel pulled him close, gripping his bottom. “I have something to talk to you two about,” Zamiel said. “A clutch?” Arno asked hopefully. Snorting in annoyance, Mitzi said, “Don’t hold your breath. Our exalted head of family isn’t yet ready to start one.” “You know nestlings are part of the reason some of us mated,” Arno said, narrowing his eyes at Zamiel. “None of us are getting any younger, you know, especially our exalted head of family.” “Give me a few more months to get things settled,” Zamiel said. “Then I’ll quit drinking the herbs and Mitzi can lay eggs to her heart’s content.” Mitzi placed a hand on her hip, lowered her chin to her chest and cast Zamiel a “don’t fuck with me” look. “Excuse me, but you better not be making it sound like laying eggs is easy.” “He didn’t mean that,” Arno said. “Don’t answer for him. If he didn’t mean what he said, then let him be the one to say it.” Sighing, Zamiel raised his eyes to the heavens. The one time he came home really needing to talk and his mates wanted to go on about nestlings again. He had every intention of starting a clutch, but he wanted to make sure everything worked out with the SQUAWK first. “Zamiel, tell her you meant no offense or else we’re never going to hear the end of it.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitzi turned her dangerous look to Arno. “Both of you stop it,” Zamiel said. “We really need to talk. This is important. Mitzi, no offense intended about you squeezing out eggs.” Her teeth clenched and she looked ready to hit him this time. Zamiel did the one thing that almost always worked. Pulling her into his arms, he covered her neck with soft, slow kisses. After a moment, she slid her hands up his back and wove her fingers through his hair.

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When the kiss broke, she shook her head and said, “What’s so important that you’re willing to bribe me with seduction?” “I got an offer for promotion into the flock guard today.” Both Arno and Mitzi turned to him with wide eyes. “Congratulations.” Arno slipped an arm around him and squeezed. “Yes. Congratulations,” Mitzi said quietly. “I know you’ve been wanting this opportunity.” “When do you start?” Arno asked. “I have to let Bobek know my answer tomorrow. I wanted to discuss it with the two of you first.” “Why?” Mitzi passed food bowls to each of them and they settled down to eat beneath the sheltered area of the nest. “Because you’re my mates and this promotion will mean changes. I’ll have more responsibility, sometimes longer hours and I won’t be able to get time off as easily.” Arno wrinkled his nose. “You never ask for time off.” “Yes, but the point is that as a hunter I could get the time more easily if I needed to. The guard is stricter. However, it will also mean more privileges, not only for me but for our family.” “That’s true,” Arno said. “If you take the job, do you know what SQUAWK you’ll be assigned to?” Zamiel glanced at their curious faces and decided he didn’t need to drag them into his problems at work. His issues with Ondro wouldn’t affect his family. Not if he could help it. “It doesn’t matter. Whichever has an open slot, I’ll take.” “What if you’re assigned to Ondro’s SQUAWK?” Arno asked. “He could make your life—” “Miserable,” Mitzi interrupted. “That’s the chance I’ll take. Besides, I’ve faced much worse in my life.” “That’s true, but why torture yourself if you don’t have to?” Mitzi said. “You don’t want me to join the guard, do you?” She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “It’s not that. I just—I worry about you, Zamiel. I’ve worried about you for years as a mercenary and hunter, but I want you to be happy. If joining the flock guard is what you really want, then I’m behind you all the way. Just don’t do it because you think we want more wealth or esteem among the flock. I don’t need that. All I need is a happy family.” Zamiel and Arno exchanged glances and the blond shrugged. “She’s right. I don’t give a damn about privileges, and as for wealth, between my trade and your hunting, we’re very comfortable. We’re with you no matter what you choose. The question is, do you want to be a warrior?”

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That was indeed the question. As much as Zamiel loved his mates, part of him longed for challenges outside the nest. His blood father had been a warrior and his father before him. Perhaps it was in his blood, but Zamiel wanted to be part of the flock guard. Most of all he wanted to prove to himself that Ondro would never have the upper hand, no matter what his position. “You do want it, don’t you?” Mitzi cupped his chin in her hand, her dark eyes fixed on his. He saw concern there, but also intense love and respect. “If you don’t want me to—” She shook her head. “I want you to do it and I’m proud of you.” “So am I,” Arno said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Then I’ll let Bobek know tomorrow,” Zamiel stated, his stomach churning with excitement and a hint of dread. Dealing with Ondro would be a challenge, but his entire life had been one challenge after another. So far no one had defeated him and this situation would be no different.

***** One day later, Zamiel began his duties with the flock guard. He joined Ondro’s SQUAWK for drills at dawn. While the other guards dove into flight practice, Ondro called Zamiel aside. “I’m telling you right now, Zamiel, you don’t belong here. I don’t want you here, but for some reason Bobek wants you on the guard.” Ondro’s lip curled. “What have you got to say?” “Nothing, Sir.” “Nothing, Sir.” Ondro sneered. “You better have a clear mental picture of what your mates look like because I’m going to put you on so many shifts you’ll never have a chance to see them. Now get your ass in the air for flight practice. You’re on guard duty until midnight tonight. Move!” Zamiel changed to his bird form and ascended, his stomach coiled in anger. More than anything he’d like to sink his talons into Ondro, but he needed to bide his time. He was no longer a rogue with the luxury of picking fights with anyone he saw fit. The only way to survive his assignment to Ondro’s SQUAWK would be to bury his hatred and do exactly as he was told. Eventually he would get his due and so would Ondro.

***** Mitzi and her sister sat in the sheltered part of her nest sewing new cloaks, though her mind kept wandering to Zamiel. He’d started his duties on the flock guard that morning and though she knew how much being a warrior meant to him, she couldn’t help worrying. She realized in many ways that it made him feel complete, but she’d naively hoped that finding happiness with his mates would calm his wild streak.

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She’d always accepted him as he was and this should be no different. That night, she and Arno ate dinner alone. Afterward they snuggled together in bird form, warmed by their feathered bodies and chirping softly to each other. She knew Arno missed Zamiel as much as she did. When they’d encouraged him to join the guard, they’d realized it would mean seeing him less, but that didn’t make the changes in their relationship any easier to accept. It was past midnight when Zamiel returned to the nest. Mitzi rose to get him some dinner, but he gently pushed her back, his beak brushing against hers. Arno stirred and used his wing to caress Zamiel’s arm. They chirped softly and settled down together. Zamiel must have been as tired as he looked, because he fell asleep almost immediately. Over the next few weeks, they scarcely saw Zamiel at all. He often worked double shifts of guard duty, and on the nights he did come home at a decent hour, he seemed so tired that neither of his mates had the heart to suggest pleasure flights nor even making love. One morning, when Zamiel had yet to return from his shift, Mitzi and Arno sat eating breakfast and discussing their absent mate. “I wonder if the rest of our lives will be like this?” she asked. “I doubt it. I know other Raptvyns who are mated with guards and they have reasonable hours. Not always. I mean, sometimes they have extended training or guard shifts, but not all the time. Zamiel’s SQUAWK leader is probably initiating him. Seeing if he has what it takes. His workload will level off eventually.” “I hope so. Otherwise we might never have a chance for a clutch.” Mitzi sighed, picking at her breakfast. “Speaking of training sessions, the huntresses have one this morning, and if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to be late.” “I’ll clean up here. My meetings don’t start until this afternoon.” “Thanks, love.” Mitzi took Arno’s face in her hands and brushed his lips with a kiss. A devilish gleam in his eyes, Arno tugged her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. “If Zamiel doesn’t give us a clutch soon, let’s tell him I’ll do the job instead.” Mitzi grinned, rubbing her nose against Arno’s. “You are a wicked, wicked man. Are you serious?” He shrugged. “I’d prefer Zamiel’s nestlings.” Though Mitzi loved Arno dearly and would gladly accept him as blood father to her nestlings, she longed for Zamiel’s children. “We’ll give him some time to get settled in the guard,” Arno said. “It’s only fair.” “You’re right. He seems to be stressed out lately and I don’t want to add another burden. Have you noticed how quiet he’s been? It’s as if he’s reverted to the silent rogue I knew ages ago.” “I tried to get him to talk to me the other day, thinking it might help him, but he brushed me off,” Arno said. 115

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Mitzi nodded, wishing Zamiel would share his problems with them. It was as if he wanted to shield them from his life outside the nest. After kissing Arno goodbye, she flew to a nearby clearing the huntresses used as a training ground. Her Raptvyn sisters had already assembled and they leapt into practice. Several hours later, others joined them. Once her practice ended, Mitzi sat sharpening her talons on a rock. Hilde approached in her woman form, her tall, powerful, pale-skin body draped in a white and gray feather cloak. Mitzi resisted the urge to raise her eyes to the heavens. The last person she wanted around was this arrogant bitch. Since working part time, she and Hilde had conflicting schedules, so they scarcely saw each other and never spoke, which was fine with Mitzi. “I heard there was a wolf attack during my husband’s SQUAWK training this morning,” Hilde said, her pale green eyes fixed on Mitzi’s with an almost gloating expression. Why was Hilde talking to her about it? When the woman remained, staring at her, Mitzi changed to her human form and said, “Hopefully no one was badly hurt.” Hilde snorted. “No one but that clumsy oaf you’re mated to.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Mitzi demanded, her stomach clenching. “According to the gossip flying around the Convocation Clearing, it seems both your mates will need matching eye patches. Ondro has said right along that Zamiel was like a burr in his feathers. Maybe now he’s gotten rid of him for—” Before Hilde finished, Mitzi changed form and ascended, flying as fast as she could toward the Convocation Clearing. No sooner had she cawed for Zamiel’s whereabouts than several flock members directed her to Toni’s treetop shelter. Her heart thumping wildly, she soared to the shelter. Zamiel lay on his back, Toni bent over him, carefully stitching deep scratches above his eye. Arno stood nearby, his arms folded across his chest and a concerned look on his face. “Is he all right?” Mitzi demanded, hurrying toward Zamiel. “I’m fine,” Zamiel told her. “Stop moving,” Toni said. “It’s hard enough sewing this up without you swiveling your head around like a damn owl.” Zamiel raised his eyes to the heavens then winced a bit as the motion tugged on the raw wound. “What happened?” Mitzi asked. “I talked to one of the other guards,” Arno said. “It seems his SQUAWK was out scouting this morning and happened upon a den of wolves. Obviously, the wolves felt threatened and attacked. Ondro ordered everyone to retreat except Zamiel, then tried to seal off the den. He claimed it was a test, but two of the guards went against his orders and helped Zamiel. Bobek called Ondro to him, so I’m assuming he’s being reprimanded.”

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“Why didn’t you tell us Ondro was your SQUAWK leader?” Mitzi demanded, turning back to Zamiel. “Because you didn’t need to know.” “Didn’t need to—” She clenched her fists. “Do you think I want to find out from that bitch Hilde that my mate has been serving under his worst enemy?” “No different than me finding out you’d fought with her once simply because she said some nasty things about me.” Mitzi was stunned he knew about that, but it seemed insignificant when faced with a situation as bad as this. “Surprised, Mitzi? You know how gossip flies across the Convocation Clearing. I might not add to it but that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to it.” “That’s true,” Arno said. “The way most of these birds talk, I’m surprised neither of us ever found out whose SQUAWK you’re in.” “Guards don’t gossip as much,” Zamiel muttered. “Who cares?” Mitzi snapped. “Zamiel, how can you compare my little squabble with Hilde to attempted murder? The way she was talking, I thought you’d nearly been killed!” Her throat constricted and tears welled in her eyes, though whether they were more from anger or relief she wasn’t sure. “Mitzi—” “I said stop moving!” Toni snapped. Arno placed an arm around Mitzi and guided her across the room. “Calm down. We’ll yell at him later.” “I heard that,” Zamiel said. “Shut up, Zamiel, and let him stitch your damn face!” Mitzi shouted. Once Toni finished his work, he left the shelter to give the trio some privacy. Zamiel stood and his mates approached. “How do you feel?” Mitzi asked, caressing his face. “Does it hurt badly?” “I’ve had worse. It’s just some scratches.” Arno’s fingers grazed the bandage on Zamiel’s upper arm. “So why didn’t you tell us about Ondro? I found out you knew you’d be assigned to his SQUAWK before you took the position.” “Maybe those guards can talk after all,” Zamiel said. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Mitzi asked. “It was my problem, not yours. I didn’t want to worry you.” “Or you were afraid we’d talk you out of it,” she snapped. “I guess if you want to be a guard so much that you’d put up with Ondro, I can’t help admiring you,” Arno sighed.

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“I don’t understand why Bobek would do this to you.” Mitzi shook her head. “He knows Ondro has it in for you.” “If I was him, I’d have done the same thing,” Zamiel told her. “Is it some male stupidity thing to prove what a great warrior you are?” “I think it’s more like Bobek wanted to test him. See what he’s made of,” Arno said. At her sharp look, he added, “I’m not saying I agree, but I can understand the reasoning. He must think a lot of you, Zamiel.” “Think a lot?” Mitzi began pacing the room. “I don’t get any of you.” Zamiel walked toward her, grasped her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Yes, you do. I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way, Mitzi, but if I’m to meet this challenge, I need you and Arno to support me.” She snorted. “Since when do you need anybody?” “Since I mated with the two of you.” His gaze became so intent that she found herself melting toward him. “Please.” “I said I was behind you,” Arno stated, resting a hand on Zamiel’s shoulder. “That hasn’t changed.” “Mitzi?” “I love you, Zamiel. If you think it’s worth dealing with Ondro, then I’m with you.” “Listen to me,” he placed an arm over their shoulders and held them close, lowering his voice, “I know in time I’ll be promoted to SQUAWK leader. Also I don’t think Bobek will keep me under Ondro for long. My feeling is that in a few months I’ll be away from him. Give me that much time, then no matter what, I promise we can have a clutch.” Arno and Mitzi looked at each other for a long moment, then turned their gazes to Zamiel. “All right,” Mitzi said. “I can handle that.” “So can I,” Arno agreed. Nodding, Zamiel squeezed them affectionately. “My shift is over and I’m looking forward to going home. That fight with the wolves wound me up. Do you think you two can come up with a way to relax me?” A smile tugged at Arno’s lips. “I have some ideas.” They changed to bird form and soared home. In the nest, Arno and Mitzi tugged Zamiel onto the blankets. “You’re injured, so we’ll spoil you tonight,” she said, gazing at him through her lashes, a teasing look in her eyes. “Right, Arno?” “Absolutely.” Arno took the container of scented oil and coated his hands with it. He knelt beside Zamiel, placed his hands on his chest and spoke against his lips. “How about a nice massage from head to toe?” “Oh yeah.” Zamiel smiled, cupping Arno’s cheek. 118

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Mitzi crawled between his legs and stroked his cock, awakening it. It swelled in her grasp and she quickened her strokes. “How about if I suck you to explosion while you’re getting your massage?” “Hell yes,” he said, his voice huskier as passion grew. Mitzi and Arno exchanged glances. She saw lust burning in Arno’s eyes and knew he loved the idea of claiming their mate as much as she did. Zamiel breathed deeply as Arno’s oil-slicked hands kneaded his left shoulder then rubbed down his arm. Reaching his hand, he massaged each finger, raised the palm to his lips and kissed it. Between Zamiel’s legs, Mitzi teased his cock head. He reached down and brushed aside her long, thick hair so he could watch her gorgeous mouth at work. Her soft, yet firm, lips rolled over his sensitive flesh and her tongue flicked the underside of his knob, making his pulse race out of control. While she sucked, her hands switched between stroking his staff and cupping his balls. Receiving this kind of attention from his mates almost made getting hurt worthwhile. “Feel good?” Arno asked, his strong, gentle fingers caressing Zamiel’s chest. He noted that Arno took care not to get any oil in the cuts and scratches caused by his scuffle with the wolves. His motions were slow and soothing, a perfect contrast to Mitzi’s sucking and licking. Zamiel never imagined feeling utterly relaxed, yet desperately horny, at the same time. His mates never ceased to amaze him. Zamiel’s eyes slipped shut and he moaned with pleasure. Arno began stroking his inner thighs, working his way down his legs to Zamiel’s feet. Then Arno was gone. Zamiel opened his eyes halfway and saw Arno filling a bowl with water from a flask. He brought the bowl over, dipped in a cloth and began cleaning Zamiel’s feet. The water felt pleasantly cool, yet Arno’s actions raised his curiosity. “Why are you washing my feet?” he asked. Mitzi, her mouth full of Zamiel’s cock, muttered something that sounded like, “That’s a good question.” “Because I want to do this.” Arno shoved the bowl and cloth aside and began sucking Zamiel’s toes. Unimaginable pleasure shot through Zamiel. He’d never had his cock and toes sucked at the same time before. Actually he’d never had his toes sucked at all. He thought nothing could embarrass him, but this went beyond even his boundaries. “Arno, are you sure you want to be doing that?” he murmured, then jerked his leg a bit as the blond gently bit his big toe.

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Mitzi paused a moment in sucking his cock to glance at Arno and grin. “Well, one thing is for sure, Arno, you’re braver than I am, putting his feet in your mouth. But damn, I’ll bet that feels good. Nobody’s ever sucked my toes.” “I will,” Zamiel breathed, his hips thrusting against her hand that stroked his shaft. “After you finish sucking my cock.” Again Mitzi chuckled, then took the crown of his erection between her lips. She sucked and stroked his cock while Arno used his lips and tongue on his toes. Overcome by sensation, Zamiel came longer and harder than he ever had in his life.

***** The following day, Zamiel learned Ondro had been reprimanded for the incident with the wolves, so he expected to feel the SQUAWK leader’s wrath. Though Zamiel and the two guards who had helped him were punished, their penalty was fairly mild. He felt Ondro’s hatred, but for some reason he eased up on Zamiel. No doubt Bobek had a hand in his sudden change in behavior. Over the next week, Ondro ignored Zamiel completely. He had once enjoyed making Zamiel’s life miserable, but now Ondro pretended he didn’t exist. Not that Zamiel was complaining. Finally he received Orders that he was being assigned to a SQUAWK led by a warrior called Darik. Though Darik was getting on in years, he was experienced, diligent and powerful. Tough but fair, he was a man Zamiel respected. As far as Zamiel was concerned, he’d defeated Ondro, yet deep inside, part of him realized that one day Ondro might be the flock leader. Zamiel wouldn’t look for trouble, but if the opportunity ever arose without danger to his family, he would see that Ondro never became the flock leader. In their line of work, fatalities were common enough. However, that was a last resort. No longer a rogue, Zamiel’s primary concern now was his family.

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Chapter Eleven Seven Months Later

Arno performed a series of practice dives over the lake several miles from home. He’d made plans to train with Zamiel and another guard from his SQUAWK. They should be arriving at any moment. A short time later, Zamiel cawed a greeting and swooped toward Arno in a mating pass. He cawed again with excitement and told Arno to fly back to their nest with him. Mitzi was there when they arrived. They quickly changed to their man form and Zamiel swept her into his arms, kissing her soundly. “What’s going on?” She smiled, clinging to his neck and glancing over his shoulder at Arno who shrugged. “I have no idea. Why the unusually cheerful mood, Zamiel?” “I’m being promoted to SQUAWK leader. Darik is retiring and Bobek has offered me his position.” “That’s wonderful!” Mitzi tightened her grip on him. “Doesn’t surprise me.” Arno stepped closer as Zamiel placed Mitzi back on her feet and reached for Arno. They embraced firmly. “To tell the truth, I’m surprised it happened this fast. There are other Raptvyns who’ve been with the flock longer and were in the running for the next promotion.” “Obviously Darik and Bobek feel you’re the man for the job,” Mitzi said. “And they’re right.” “When do you start?” Arno asked. “Not for a couple of weeks. Darik didn’t want to quit right away and Bobek suggested I take my holiday time now. When I return, I’ll assume the SQUAWK leadership.” “Two weeks,” Mitzi said, not hiding her pleasure. “I’m sure I can get my holiday time if I make some arrangements with the other huntresses and gatherers. Arno?” “I’ll do my best. Trade has been slow lately, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Anybody have something in mind to do on this vacation?” “I was thinking maybe we can take your friends Jindra and Parker up on their offer to visit them in the city?” Zamiel said. Over the past year, they had seen the humanRaptvyn couple several times when they visited Jindra’s flock. Parker and Zamiel had often discussed healing, but they both admitted Zamiel could learn so much more if he spent even a little time in the human world.

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“That’s a great idea,” Mitzi said. “They’ve invited us often, but Zamiel hasn’t been able to get enough time off to make the trip worthwhile.” “I’ll send a message to Jindra tonight,” Arno said. “Mitzi and I have identities since we’ve spent time among humans, but you need to make arrangements with this flock’s human infiltration coordinators. Damn.” The blond closed his eyes and smiled, a dreamy look on his face. “I just thought of something.” “What?” Zamiel asked. “I am dying to see you in jeans, Zamiel. Your ass is just perfect for denim.” Mitzi chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.” “What the hell are jeans?” Zamiel asked. His mates exchanged looks and Mitzi said, “Looks like we’re going to need a bit of prep work before he goes to the big city.”

***** The following week, Jindra met Arno, Mitzi and Zamiel in upstate New York to drive them through the city. He brought them new clothes and they changed in the woods. Mitzi slipped into a black and white flowered sundress and sandals while the men dressed in jeans and tank tops. When they finished dressing, they glanced each other over. “What do you think?” Mitzi smiled. “You look lovely,” Arno said. “Jindra has a real eye for clothing sizes.” “I’ll say.” She wiggled her eyebrows and circled her mates, her gaze lingering on their denim-clad legs and asses. “You guys are made for those clothes.” “I don’t like this.” Zamiel tugged at his crotch. These clothes were more like a torture device. Never in his life had his cock and balls been so constricted. In particular, he hated the garment called underwear. “It’s not comfortable. Why can’t humans be sensible and go naked?” “Because, in spite of the fact that they’re obsessed with mating, they’re shy about nudity,” Mitzi replied, cupping her breasts and gazing at them. “I do like what bras do for a woman’s figure though.” “That I like.” Zamiel grinned and tugged her into his arms so that her breasts pressed against his chest. “Come on.” Arno patted his mates’ bottoms. “Jindra is waiting. We’re going to have so much fun.” “I don’t know about that,” Zamiel grumbled, still tugging at his crotch in an attempt to give his privates room to breathe. “Stop that!” Mitzi slapped his shoulder. “It looks obscene.” “Or like you have a creepy disease.” Arno wrinkled his nose. 122

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His brow furrowed, Zamiel refrained from adjusting himself and followed them to the car where Jindra sat listening to music on the radio. It wasn’t the kind of music Raptvyns enjoyed. This was crashing noise accompanied by a scratchy human voice. Zamiel wondered how humans, let alone Jindra, could listen to it. They climbed into the car and Jindra said, “Okay, let’s go. We’re sleeping at From Paws to Wings because I’m on the night shift for the pet boarders. Parker is bringing pizza for dinner when he gets out of work.” “I love pizza,” Mitzi said. “It’s been years since I’ve had one.” “What is it?” Zamiel asked. “Bread with cheese and red sauce. It’s not bad,” Arno explained. “Zamiel, Parker got time off so you guys can play around his lab.” Jindra glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Parker had a lab right in their home where he conducted his own research. “Excellent,” Zamiel said. “I appreciate the time he’s taking to work with me.” “Are you kidding? You made his week,” Jindra said. “I’m not the least bit into science and he loves talking about medicine.” “Jesse and Newly are covering for me for the next few days so while those two are busy in the lab we can do stuff in the city if you want,” Jindra told Arno and Mitzi. “Sounds great,” Mitzi said. “I’d like to go to a mall and get some body cream. Humans make that well.” “Yeah and I’d like to help you put it on.” Arno turned to her with a lustful gleam in his eyes. “Hey none of that,” Jindra teased. “Wait ’til you’re in private.” A while later, they reached the city and heavier traffic. Zamiel gazed out the window, captivated. The closest he’d come to a city was on rare occasions when he flew over them. They stopped at a red light and watched streams of cars speed by. “Flying would be easier,” Zamiel said. Lifting an eyebrow, Jindra replied, “Yeah but talk about your attention grabber.” “For all the technology humans have, they’re still physically inferior.” Jindra chuckled. “But they have their physical merits. Trust me.” Zamiel had nearly forgotten Jindra’s mate was human. “No offense—” “None taken.” A short time later they arrived at the From Paws to Wings farmhouse. Jesse and Mindy, the tall red-haired director of the Raptor Sanctuary, stood in the reception room talking over a new style of dog cage. Like all employees of From Paws to Wings, Mindy was a shape shifter. She was of the Grwyfin species, also birdlike creatures. She and Jesse turned to their guests and exchanged greetings. “Congratulations on your promotion,” Jesse told Zamiel. 123

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“Thank you.” “And congratulations on your mating ceremony,” Mitzi said. They had learned from Jindra that, several months ago, Jesse and Newly had finally mated permanently. “Thanks,” Jesse sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. According to Jindra, since Max Newly had earned the respect of her pack and claimed rights to her and their children through a grueling series of tests, her infatuation with the Dusk Thief had not only rekindled but burned hotter than ever. “How are the pups?” Arno asked. “Kits,” Jesse corrected. A smile tugged at Jindra’s lips. “Max got his way after all.” “Earned it, you mean.” Jesse cast him a haughty look. “It’s not every day a Dusk Thief is accepted into a werewolf pack, you know.” “Sorry.” Arno grinned. “How are the kits?” “They’re great, especially now because Max is watching them and I’ve got some free time.” She chuckled. “They’re in our den about half a mile from here. Once you’re settled, would you like to see the kits?” They agreed this was a fine idea. Jindra led the way to the spacious room the trio would be sharing that night. He and Parker would be sleeping in the room across the hall. He left them alone to familiarize themselves with their new surroundings. Arno walked across the room and opened the door. Glancing inside, he said, “The bathroom. Jindra left a bunch of toiletries.” “That’s another new word,” Zamiel said, walking toward the bathroom. He slipped an arm around Arno and looked at the spotlessly clean room. It seemed to be made of glass. Even the floor was smooth and glossy, unlike the rest of the farmhouse that had either rugs or wooden floors. “Toiletries are just grooming supplies,” Arno explained. Mitzi nudged her way past the two and picked up a jar. She unscrewed the lid and sniffed the contents. “Umm. He left us cream. Toothbrushes. Toothpaste. Floss. The human stuff is much more pleasant than the twine we use to clean our teeth.” Zamiel and Arno joined her in the smaller room. Picking up another container, Zamiel sounded out the words. Thanks to Toni, he actually read human English fairly well. “Antiperspirant. Deodorant. Spring Scent. What’s this for?” Arno and Mitzi exchanged glances and grinned, then Arno took the bottle from Zamiel. He tugged off the cap, lifted his arm and rubbed the waxy-looking substance under it. “Just what it says. It controls odor and wetness.” Wrinkling his nose, Zamiel said, “Don’t humans wash daily that they need this antiodorsant?”

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“Of course they wash.” Mitzi raised her eyes to the heavens. “This helps keep you fresh from one washing to the next.” This seemed to impress Zamiel and he took the container from Arno to try it for himself. Mitzi pushed aside a curtain. “Shower,” she said and showed Zamiel how to use the gleaming metal faucet to turn the water on and off. It was actually an interesting device. The toilet was even better. Far superior to digging a hole in the woods or flying over a lake. After relieving themselves, they went downstairs to the reception room. While Mindy watched the office, Jindra and Jesse led the way outside, across the sunny, spacious backyard and into the wooded area that was also on From Paws to Wings land. “Max’s den was upstate,” Jesse explained. “When the kits came, it was much better for both of us to have a place near the office to keep an eye on them. He started building this new den last year and is still working on it.” “It’s one helluva hole in the ground,” Jindra teased. “Jindra, don’t start.” Jesse pointed a finger at him. “You know Max gets pissed when you call it a hole in the ground.” “Newly gets pissed over just about everything.” “Come on. You know he worked his cute little butt off on this place and it’s a great den.” “I never said it wasn’t. Dusk Thieves might have sour dispositions, but I’ve never seen any species dig that well. And fast.” “Max takes building a den very seriously,” Jesse explained. “I can appreciate that,” Zamiel said. “You would.” Arno cast him a teasing glance. “Sometimes I think you’ll never be finished with our nest.” “Updates,” Zamiel said gruffly. “You need to keep updating a nest.” Deep into the trees, Jindra paused and glanced around. “Jesse, I’ve been here like a million times and still can’t find the friggin’ entrance.” Jesse sniffed the air, a low growl rumbling in her throat as she let her wolf side emerge just a bit. “This way,” she said, guiding them toward an enormous rock located near a fallen log, both covered with moss and other vegetation. The entrance to the den was scarcely noticeable and so small that Zamiel wondered how Jindra would fit. Zamiel’s own broad shoulders would just about make it and Jindra was several inches taller and big built in spite of his leanness. “I fucking hate this part,” Jindra muttered. “Watch your language!” Jesse slapped his shoulder.

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“Have I ever used bad language in front of your kits? No. Never.” “All right, Jindra, all right,” Jesse said, pushing past him and leading the way into the den. Jindra went next with much grunting and stifled curses, followed by Mitzi, Arno and Zamiel. Surprisingly, after climbing several feet, the tunnel opened into a fairly spacious foyer lined with polished wooden panels. Zamiel placed a hand on the wall, admiring the workmanship. A thick door stood in front of them. Jesse used her key to open it and stepped into a comfortably cool, yet cozy, room, also paneled. Rope rugs were scattered across the stone floor and several large sleeping cushions covered in tan and brown quilts rested in a corner. A trunk stood against one wall. “Max!” she called. “We’ve got company.” “Yeah, I heard you on the way down.” A moment later, the Dusk Thief, in his beast shape, stepped through another door at the far end of the room. Though not especially tall, Newly was broad-shouldered and lean-muscled with rather long legs. He was covered from head to toe in a brownish pelt, except for his thick tail of black and tan rings and the black, mask-like pattern of fur around his piercing blue eyes. His snout was slightly elongated and he had a set of white, pointed little teeth. Max Newly wasn’t a hulking shifter like some species, but looked well able to protect what was his. Zamiel envied the Dusk Thief for his lack of human attire. How nice it would be to rip off all his clothes right now, especially the damn underwear. “Max, these are Jindra’s friends. You’ve met Arno the few times he’s been to the city over the past year, but these are his mates, Zamiel and Mitzi.” “Pleased to meet you,” Mitzi said cautiously. They’d been warned about Newly’s unpredictable manners. The Dusk Thief grunted, nodding in their direction. “May I offer you refreshment? I killed some squirrels this morning and there’s some left.” “No thanks. Parker is bringing pizza,” Jindra told him. Newly wrinkled his longish nose. “Pizza. Yuck. Tastes like shi—” At Jesse’s murderous look, he stopped and scowled. “What? The kits are down the hall in the nursery. They can’t hear me say shit.” “Max! I said I don’t want them picking up nasty terms. At least not until they’re older.” “Nice den,” Zamiel said, again running his hand along the wall. “Thank you,” Newly replied. “The rest is this way, if you’d like to see it.” “So are the kits this way,” Jesse said. “Honestly, Newly, you have two sons and two daughters and the first thing you want to show off is this—”

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“Hole in the ground?” Jindra supplied. Newly growled, a rather annoying grating sound. “You constantly lecture me about rudeness, but have the nerve to consistently come into my home and insult it. I say that is rude.” “Wow.” Jindra lifted an eyebrow. “You’re actually right. Sorry, Newly.” “Apology accepted. Walk this way.” The Dusk Thief led the way down a long corridor, pointing out rooms on either side. The den was remarkably well constructed. Zamiel had never imagined a dwelling such as this to be so nice. Of course, he preferred a mountain ledge or treetop, but for a home in the ground this was quite comfortable. There was a storage room, dining room, toilet, master bedroom and finally the nursery. Four chubby babies, about six months old, played in a penned-off area of a carpeted room. Other than their sleek black pelts and long tails, they looked human. Four cribs and another wooden trunk stood off to one side. “How did you get the furniture in here?” Mitzi asked. “The entrance is so small.” “I built it down here,” Newly replied. “Max is good with his hands,” Jesse said, gazing at the Dusk Thief with adoration. She slipped her arms around his neck and brushed his lips with a kiss. “Do you want us to give you some privacy?” Jindra quipped. Newly stepped away from her to pick up one of the kits who shouted to him and tried to climb the bars of his pen. Still, the Dusk Thief cast Jesse a rather suggestive glance before turning his attention to his son. “They’re adorable,” Mitzi said of the kits. “Thank you.” Jesse smiled. “The girls are called Rachel and Sarah and the boys are Mark and Trent. Would you like to hold one?” “Yes,” Mitzi and Arno said in unison then chuckled. She explained, “We’re hoping to start a clutch soon, so any holding practice we can get before then works for us.” “Good idea,” Jesse said, picking up her daughters and handing one to Arno and the other to Mitzi. “If they fuss too much, put them back in the pen. They usually like to be on the ground exploring.” “You need practice too.” Max shoved his son at Zamiel, who had no choice but to take the boy rather awkwardly beneath the arms. The kit stared at him with huge gray eyes, then started to whimper. “Hold him closer,” Max ordered. Zamiel did as instructed, his stomach taut with anxiety. This wasn’t his thing. Gods, he was going to be a complete failure as a father. He knew it. After a moment, the kit relaxed against him and he patted its small back. “Just be careful because they have—”

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Tiny, sharp teeth sank into Zamiel’s shoulder. He curled his lip and grunted. “This kit bit me.” “I was trying to tell you they have teeth,” Newly said. “I hope that doesn’t mean he’ll have a taste for Raptvyns now,” Arno joked. “If he does, it’s probably from me,” Jindra said. “I’ve been bitten more times by those little suckers than during the two-day challenge when I backed my brother.” After spending a while longer in the den, the Raptvyns and Jesse returned to the farmhouse. Parker had arrived with the pizza and they sat down at the kitchen table to eat. “I can’t believe you got along so well with Newly,” Jindra said to Zamiel. “I like him,” Zamiel said. “He’s forthright. Honest.” “Abrupt,” Jindra added. “What most people call abrupt, Zamiel calls honesty,” Mitzi said. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s a bit on the brusque side himself.” “Oh no, I didn’t notice,” Jindra teased. “Is that sarcasm, son of Rostya?” “Oh no. Not back to the son of Rostya crap again.” Jindra raised his eyes to the heavens. “I thought we were long past that, Zamiel.” “We are.” “I just never saw Newly take to anyone that fast.” “From what I hear, they have stuff in common, Jin,” Parker said, taking a bite of pizza. “Speaking of that, we have three whole days to spend in the lab. I need to go back to work next week, but I still have a couple of nights free. We’ll be able to cover a lot of emergency techniques that will help you in the mountains.” “Excellent,” Zamiel said. “Thank you for your time.” “My pleasure. And thanks to all three of you for agreeing to let me run some tests on you. Other than Jindra, it’s not often I get to examine a Raptvyn.” After dinner, they helped Jindra do the rounds of the Raptor Sanctuary and barn. Jesse, Mindy and the other employees had left for the night, so they would be alone until tomorrow. When Zamiel retired that night, his mates cuddled close, he lay awake for a long time, thinking about the events of the day. The human world fascinated him, yet at the same time he longed for Raptvyn country. He also thought more about nestlings. Mitzi and Arno wanted them badly and he’d promised them that, once everything was settled in his career, they could start a clutch. Well, he was settled in a new position, the highest a Raptvyn could attain except for flock leadership itself. It was long past time he made good on his promise. Strangely, seeing a man like Max Newly, in many ways similar to himself, caring for offspring made him realize that maybe he could be a decent parent after all.

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Glancing at his sleeping mates, he sighed. Over the next few days, they’d have much to talk about.

***** The trio thoroughly enjoyed their holiday in the human world. To thank Jindra and Parker for their hospitality, they offered to help Jindra with his yearly repairs to his nest. They returned to Raptvyn Country the day before Zamiel was to take leadership of his SQUAWK and landed in their nest. After shifting to their human form, they flopped onto a blanket Arno spread on the floor. “I had a great time, but I’m glad to be home,” Mitzi said, closing her eyes and enjoying the firmness of the woven branches beneath her back. Human beds tended to be a little too soft. “I bet Zamiel is just happy not to be wearing underwear anymore.” Arno grinned, scrubbing a hand over Zamiel’s hairy chest. Zamiel snorted. “I stopped wearing that the first day we were there. Forget the underwear. There’s something we need to talk about.” “Uh-huh.” Mitzi rolled toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. She caressed his flat belly while Arno continued stroking his chest. “I was thinking it’s time we started a clutch,” Zamiel said. Those long-awaited words filled Mitzi with excitement and she gave a chirp of pleasure. “It’s about time.” “So no more herbs?” Arno asked. “No more herbs,” Zamiel assured him. “Great! And I’ll be laying eggs again any day now. So, Zamiel, let’s start fertilizing.” Mitzi slid atop him, her bottom resting against his thighs and a devilish grin on her lips. A Raptvyn female laid one to four eggs about every three months, regardless of whether or not they’d been fertilized. Unfertilized eggs were small and easily expelled. Those fertilized by a male grew larger for several days inside her. Fertilization and egg laying could take up to four days, depending on the number of eggs. Once laid, the eggs had an incubation period of about ninety days during which their parents took turns keeping them warm. “Maybe by the end of the week we’ll have a clutch.” Arno pushed himself to his knees and reached for the container of oil delicately scented with herbs. Arno poured some into his hands and rubbed them together to warm it, then he began massaging it onto Mitzi’s back. His hands stroked her with the perfect pressure and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back while Zamiel reached up and cupped her breasts, rolling his thumbs over the taut nipples. 129

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Mitzi grasped Zamiel’s cock and stroked it, loving how it swelled and pulsed in her grip. Thoroughly aroused from caressing him and from Arno’s sensual massage, she was wet and ready. Rising to her knees, she parted her lips and breathed deeply. Her eyes slipping shut, she lowered herself onto Zamiel’s thick staff. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her. He filled her so perfectly. Zamiel grasped her hips and stroked her buttocks. It felt wonderful, but Mitzi’s nipples ached for a touch. She began stroking her own breasts until Arno knelt behind her and took over the job. Arno’s slender fingers rolled over her nipples and he tugged on them gently. “That feels so good,” she murmured, leaning her head back. Arno edged a bit closer so that her back brushed against his warm, hard chest. The position almost made her feel as if they were both riding Zamiel. Only the sensation of Arno’s stiff cock pressed against her bottom reminded her that they were not. Pressing even closer, Arno thrust his hips in time with hers, his cock trapped between them. Unable to resist, she reached a hand behind her and grasped Arno’s cock so that he could stroke into her fist. “Oh Mitz,” Arno panted. His hands trembled at bit as he kneaded her breasts. She couldn’t keep the smile from her lips, and at a particularly lustful groan from Zamiel, she opened her eyes halfway. Zamiel was staring at her and Arno, his beautiful blue eyes gleaming with passion. His lips parted, he drew quick, excited breaths. Slowly, Zamiel slid his hands up her hips and stomach, then covered Arno’s hands so that together they kneaded her breasts. After a moment, he moved one hand, trailing a fingertip down the middle of her belly until he reached her clit. He caressed her throbbing flesh, sending her desire soaring to even greater heights. Unable to control herself any longer, Mitzi began riding him faster, while at the same time squeezing and stroking Arno’s cock. The position felt a bit awkward, but it was such a thrill to fuck both her mates in this way that nothing could diminish the waves of pleasure breaking over her. “Fuck, Mitzi, I can’t wait any longer,” Arno panted close to her ear. “So don’t,” she gasped in reply, stroking him even faster. With a cry of pleasure, he came, his essence slick on her hand and back. Arno fell back, and as he did, Zamiel pushed her onto her back. Grasping her wrists and pinning them on either side of her head, he drove his cock in and out of her so fast that she could only lock her legs around him and cling tightly, enjoying every lustful second. Both were already so aroused that it took only a moment before she exploded in orgasm. Her hot, wet flesh tightened around his cock, sending him over the edge. “Mitzi! Ah, fuck!” he gasped before collapsing atop her. They lay for several seconds, panting and enjoying the sensation of their warm, sated bodies pressed close.

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Zamiel rolled off her but tugged her to his side. Arno lay on his other side and reached across him, taking Mitzi’s hand. She lifted her head and smiled at her mates. Zamiel’s eyes were closed and he looked utterly content, such a sweet expression on the usually tough, serious warrior. Arno’s eyes were open and he held Mitzi’s gaze. They smiled at each other, their fingers tightening on one another’s hands. “This is a fantastic end to a wonderful holiday,” Arno said. “The best I can think of,” Mitzi agreed. A few seconds passed and she nudged Zamiel. “So what do you have to say?” “I didn’t want to talk and spoil the moment.” “You!” Mitzi snapped, but a teasing smile tugged at Zamiel’s lips. Both she and Arno attacked him with kisses and tickles of his surprisingly ticklish ribs. Laughing, Zamiel wrapped his arms tightly around them and kissed them both soundly on the mouth.

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Chapter Twelve Several days later, Zamiel sat in Bobek’s weekly meeting of the SQUAWK leaders. They discussed matters of flock security, then Bobek motioned for them to bring up other subjects on their minds. “I would like to talk about flock expansion,” Ondro said. Though Zamiel and Ondro were now equals within the flock and generally ignored each other, unspoken rivalry still burned between them. Zamiel couldn’t help wondering what might happen if and when Ondro took over leadership of the flock. “We’ve discussed this before,” Bobek stated. “My decision hasn’t changed.” “Without wars to fight, we guards are nothing more than glorified hunters,” Ondro snapped. “Bobek is right,” said Noe, a red-haired SQUAWK leader in his late thirties. Zamiel found him to be a tough, yet sensible, warrior. “We’ve already talked about this too many times. Four out of six SQUAWK leaders agree that attempting to take over other flocks makes no sense.” “It was four out of six,” Ondro sneered. “We have yet to hear from the newest SQUAWK leader.” All gazes turned to Zamiel. For Ondro to ask for his opinion, he must be desperate to prove his point. Either that or he wanted to see if Zamiel would kiss the tail feathers of the man who was next in line for flock leadership. “What about taking over other flocks?” Zamiel asked. “Ondro believes we should start wars with flocks in this area for the sole purpose of claiming their territory, thereby creating a bigger flock,” Noe said. “One flock to rule all Raptvyns on this continent,” Ondro said, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement. “Think about it. All territories will be ours. No more trade or shared hunting grounds. No more petty battles for land on our borders. Everything will be ours under the rule of one flock leader.” “There have been no major wars among Raptvyns in centuries. We have learned to live together in relative peace,” Bobek stated. “Why destroy that?” “You think small,” Ondro scoffed. “And you forget to whom you speak,” Bobek said in a deadly voice. “I am the flock leader, Ondro. My duty is to keep our people thriving and safe. Not to use my position for personal gain.”

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Though Ondro appeared skeptical, he didn’t retort. Still, Zamiel didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Wouldn’t expanding the flock only strengthen it?” suggested Rodge, a tall blond Raptvyn and, other than Zamiel, the newest SQUAWK leader. “There are only two flocks in this area as big and powerful as ours,” Ondro said. “Overtake them and nothing will stand in our way.” Zamiel thought on this. The flocks Ondro referred to belonged to Carl and Vlad. That would mean war against Arno and Zamiel’s ancestral flock. It would also mean death to countless Raptvyns on both sides, because neither flock Ondro mentioned would surrender easily, if at all. Such a war could backfire and they could be the ones taken over by Carl or Vlad. “To start wars with the most powerful flocks in our area when we are at peace is pointless,” Zamiel said. “Such wars are not for the benefit of the people, but for the vanity of the leader who hopes to raise himself to godhood. A single dictator for all Raptvyns.” Ondro knew this comment was directed at him and bristled visibly. “Are you certain you aren’t disagreeing because it’s your ancestral flock we would target? Even though they banished you. Made you a Shunned One so that now you’re here out of Bobek’s charity.” “That’s uncalled for, Ondro,” Noe said. “No one makes SQUAWK leader because of charity.” “But one can lose his leadership out of spitefulness and stupidity.” Bobek fixed a cold gaze on Ondro. “This subject is closed. We will not initiate a war. Any other questions?” The leader glanced around, and when no one made a motion to speak, he said, “This meeting is adjourned.” The SQUAWK leaders jumped out of the treetop shelter and flew off. Noe cawed for Zamiel and the two flew to a tree not far from the Convocation Clearing. Seated on the thick branches, they shifted to their man form. “I want to warn you about Ondro,” Noe said. “Obviously this isn’t the first time he’s brought up the subject of expanding the flock through invasion of other flocks. Only one SQUAWK leader supports him and even he is leery of starting wars with Vlad and Carl’s flocks.” “It seems Ondro would like these wars under way and over before he assumes leadership. Have Bobek take the blame so he can reap the rewards.” “We know he has been trying to garner support from other flock members, but they’ve been very quiet about it. We’re not sure exactly how many agree with him, but the numbers are relatively small. Most Raptvyns prefer peace with their own kind. I just wanted to let you know because of the rivalry between you and Ondro. “Bobek isn’t getting any younger. Eventually he will either step down or die. When that happens, there are few in this flock powerful enough to defeat Ondro in the two-

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day challenge and even fewer who are willing to assume leadership of the flock. There have been rumors that you might—” “I have no interest in leading the flock,” Zamiel stated and would say no more. Noe might be sharing this information because he was genuine or he might be secretly feeling him out to report back to Ondro. Zamiel might belong to a flock now, but he still trusted no one except his mates and Toni. “I have to return to duty,” Noe said. “And I need to get home. See you tomorrow.” Noe nodded, then changed shape and flew off. Zamiel did the same and headed for his nest. No sooner had he landed and changed to his man form than Mitzi leapt into his arms and Arno chirped excitedly from where he sat in bird form in a corner of the nest. “We have an egg!” Mitzi kissed Zamiel, jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Whoa,” he chuckled, grasping her bottom and hoisting her a bit higher. “When?” “This morning, just after you left,” she said. “Now you need to fertilize me again fast because I’ll probably lay another one soon. Come on.” “Wait a second. At least let me take a look at it first.” Mitzi dropped her feet to the ground and tugged him toward Arno who stood, ruffling his feathers, and stepped aside, revealing a pale gold egg slightly bigger than Zamiel’s hand. Unable to keep the smile from tugging at his lips, Zamiel squatted and placed a hand on the egg. It was warm, the shell smooth and hard. “I wonder what it is?” “I have no idea,” Mitzi said. “How are you?” Zamiel stood again, glancing at her with concern. “Hurt some when I laid it, but you know we regenerate within a couple of hours after egg laying, so I’m ready for you, babe.” She grasped his wrists and practically dragged him onto the blankets a short distance away. “Come on. Arno is going to incubate while you and I—” Instead of finishing with words, she grasped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, thrusting her tongue between his lips. While Mitzi had never been a passive lover, this new aggression took him a bit by surprise. “Hey, slow down.” He gently grasped a handful of her hair and threw one of his legs over both of hers. “Slow later. Fuck me now.” She gazed at him with such a sexy look in her large, dark eyes that he felt his cock twitch. Releasing his hold on her hair, he covered her mouth in a deep, yet tender, kiss and dipped his hand between her legs. He cupped her soft mound and massaged. Mitzi moaned with pleasure and arched against his hand. She caressed his chest and

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shoulders, then cupped his cheek and smiled slightly, her eyes gleaming with affection. “I love you, Zamiel.” “I love you too,” he whispered and kissed her again. This time he also slipped two fingers inside her, exploring her soft, warm flesh, stroking until his fingers were drenched with her desire. He groaned with need and slid down her body. Grasping her bottom, he lifted her slightly and thrust his tongue inside her, swirling it in her pussy, then withdrawing it to lap and tease her clit. “Oh Zamiel,” she panted, curling her fingers in his hair. He licked her, rolling his tongue over her clit until she panted and writhed on the verge of shattering. Then he once again covered her body with his and filled her with a long, slow thrust. Over and over, he lunged into her. His eyes closed and heart pounding, he relished the sensations flooding him from head to toe, the marvelous sexual frustration that could only be relieved by her tight, passion-soaked pussy. Gasping, Mitzi clung to him tightly, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust until she exploded. Her body tightened and pulsed around his stiff cock and he came long and hard. “Mitz,” he breathed, rolling onto his back and dragging her close to his side. “Mmm,” she purred, her head resting against his chest. They lay for several moments, drifting in the aftermath. Then a soft caw from Arno drew their attention. “I think he’s tired of sitting on that egg.” Mitzi grinned. “Maybe I should relieve him for a while.” “Okay.” Zamiel kissed her. “I’ll take over later tonight.” “You bet you will.” She playfully slapped him. “Just because you’re the blood father doesn’t mean your job only entails having all the fun.” “I don’t doubt it,” he teased.

***** A few days later, the trio’s clutch was complete with two large, pale gold eggs. Mitzi took a leave from gathering and hunting to spend most of her time incubating the eggs. Arno took over for her on his days off and every afternoon when he returned from his trade duties. Though Zamiel worked long hours as a SQUAWK leader, he put in his share of incubation time as well. She knew that to a Raptvyn like Zamiel, sitting on eggs must be akin to torture. He was a man of action and would much rather be out hunting for food or defending his family than spending sedentary hours in the nest. Mitzi couldn’t say she relished incubating either. She already loved her unhatched nestlings and couldn’t wait to finally meet them, but she missed the freedom to stretch her wings whenever she felt like it. Once they hatched, she could at least move around the nest more often. Since it was summertime and the weather quite warm, she could 135

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sometimes cover the eggs with blankets and get exercise without fear of them becoming too cold. A winter clutch would have been much more work. One morning after Arno and Zamiel left for work, Mitzi’s sister came to visit. Since the eggs came, Mitzi felt almost as if she’d been cut off from the flock, so she appreciated her mother and sister’s weekly visits. While Mitzi incubated, her sister filled her in on the latest gossip. Unfortunately, this included some disturbing news regarding Ondro and his vision for the flock. Even worse, when Arno stopped by the nest briefly to say he would be at a late meeting that night, he confirmed the upsetting rumors. “Why didn’t you or Zamiel say anything to me?” she demanded. “I thought Ondro had given up on the idea of invasion.” “There are always rumors flying around this flock about one thing or another,” Arno said quietly from where he knelt, stroking the eggs. “Do these feel cool to you?” “Arno, I just got up two minutes ago. I needed to stretch my legs. How the hell can they be cool when it’s sweltering today?” “Calm down, Mitz,” he said, covering the eggs with a blanket. He stood and approached her, slipping his arms around her from behind. “Don’t worry about the bunch of gossiping geese that hang out at the Convocation Clearing.” “It’s not just the Convocation Clearing. From what my sister says, everyone is talking about it. Why the hell aren’t you more concerned? It’s your ancestral flock he wants to target first.” She felt him draw a deep breath and release it slowly, his arms tightening around her. “It worries me. But hopefully Ondro won’t take over for a long time. Maybe by then, someone will beat him in the two-day challenge.” “They say someone already can,” she said in a hushed voice. “Some flock members believe Zamiel should take part in the two-day challenge.” “I know.” She turned and faced him. “Don’t tell me that doesn’t worry you. You know Zamiel. Not only does he hate Ondro, but being a warrior is in his blood. What if he decides to—” “Don’t say that.” “Why not? Everybody else is.” “Look, Mitzi, I can’t talk about this now. I need to get to my meeting, but tonight when I get back, the three of us should have a long talk. It’s crazy for you to be worrying like this. You have enough to think about with the clutch.” She leveled her most dangerous look on him. “Only me?” “All right. I want this settled just as much as you do, but I still say we don’t have to worry. Zamiel already told us he doesn’t want leadership and I believe him.” “Then you don’t know Zamiel as well as you think you do.”

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“Maybe you don’t.” They stood glaring at each other for a moment, then Arno smiled slightly and shook his head. He cupped her cheek and brushed her mouth with a kiss. “I don’t want to argue with you, Mitzi.” “Neither do I.” She sighed and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Go to your meeting. We’ll talk more later.” “Will you be all right?” “Of course.” He studied her for several seconds then kissed her again before shifting shape and flying off. In spite of Arno’s attempts to reassure her, she continued obsessing about the rumors. By the time Zamiel returned to the nest that night, she was nearly beside herself, imagining Zamiel killed either in battle or by Ondro. She, Arno and the nestlings couldn’t possibly stay after that. There was even the chance Ondro would banish them or mark them with the Shunning Scars. He would be cruel enough to do it. But what would happen if Zamiel actually took leadership? She didn’t doubt he would be an excellent leader and the flock would benefit from his experience and fairness. Would it be worth the risk to their family? No sooner had Zamiel landed in the nest than Mitzi stood and changed to her human form. Covering the eggs, she said, “You’re late.” “I’m sorry,” he replied, stretching his arms overhead and yawning. “Training went longer than usual today.” He glanced around. “Where’s Arno?” “At a late meeting.” Mitzi approached and he tugged her into his arms. Covering her mouth in a deep, tender kiss, he buried a hand in her hair and caressed. Though she enjoyed the sensation of his lips and tongue, she was too worried to respond with her usual enthusiasm. Zamiel broke the kiss and nuzzled her neck. “What’s wrong? I washed in the lake after training, so it can’t be that.” “It’s not.” She smiled slightly at his joke, yet her heart was still heavy. “Then what?” He stopped kissing her and held her gaze, gently caressing her neck with his fingertips. “My sister said rumors have been circulating again about Ondro and his ideas about flock expansion. People fear war if he takes over leadership.” “Bobek isn’t yet ready to step down or die.” “Not yet, but eventually—” “Don’t worry about something that’s probably a long way off.” “Don’t do that, Zamiel!” she snapped, tired of both her mates pretending the flock’s future didn’t matter. His brow furrowed. “What?”

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“Stop trying to protect me. I’m not a child. I’m your mate and I have every right to be worried. Especially when some people say you’re a possible challenger for leadership. Don’t try to deny it. Arno has heard the same rumors.” “I don’t care what either of you heard. It’s not true. I don’t want to lead the flock. My duties as a guard take enough time away from this family. I told you both on the night of our mating ritual that our family would always come before the flock. Nothing has changed.” His words relieved her somewhat. Even if Zamiel didn’t challenge Ondro, he was still a guard. If Ondro sent the flock to war, Zamiel could be killed in battle. For that matter, her family, even Arno and her children, could be destroyed in the fighting. “Mitzi,” he tilted her face toward his, “we have nothing to worry about right now.” “Right now. That’s the catch, isn’t it, Zamiel?” She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed deeply. “Ondro will destroy this flock if he takes leadership. He’s crazy.” “He’s not crazy, but he is greedy. There are a couple of other Raptvyns who could take him in the two-day challenge. Karel and Milo stand a good chance.” “Karel would make a decent leader,” Mitzi agreed. “A little young, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. But Milo?” She wrinkled her nose. “He’s strong as a bear.” “And dumb as a rock.” Zamiel gave a snort of laughter. “You’re right about that. He’s got the power to win the challenge, but there’s no way he could handle making leadership decisions. His male mate is smart, though, so he’d have a good advisor.” “Even so, his mate wouldn’t be the leader. A skilled second in command is valuable, but the leader still needs to be competent.” “Regardless, the decision won’t have anything to do with us. Do you think we can change the subject long enough for you to give me a proper welcome home, then let me see my eggs?” “Your eggs?” she teased. “Arno and I have put in the most incubation time.” “Don’t go there. I’ve been busting my tail feathers for the past week in training with a bunch of new recruits.” “Go visit the eggs. I’ll get dinner ready.” While Mitzi prepared the evening meal, Zamiel changed to his bird form and settled onto the eggs. Glancing at him, a feeling of warmth came over her. He looked so powerful, his lean-muscled body covered in sleek brown and gold feathers, his curved beak and thick talons strong enough to fight off a pack of hungry wolves, yet he cared for the eggs with such tenderness. A powerful Raptvyn warrior and a gentle man combined. Mitzi couldn’t have dreamed better mates than Zamiel and Arno.

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***** Three months later, Zamiel and his SQUAWK were practicing ground hunting tactics when a messenger from the Convocation Clearing swooped down through the colorful October trees. “Zamiel,” the bird panted. Obviously he’d flown fast. “Message from your mates. Eggs hatching—” Before the messenger finished speaking, Zamiel summoned the raptor and ascended, cawing to one of his guards to take over training for the day. Usually he enjoyed admiring the autumn foliage as he flew over the mountains, but not today. Today he flew so fast he scarcely took notice of anything. He landed in his nest and shifted to his man form. Arno and Mitzi greeted him with smiles from where they sat beneath the sheltered area of the nest. Mitzi held a squirming bundle in a blanket. “What is it?” Zamiel asked, joining his mates. “A girl.” Arno grinned. “All gold feathers.” “Let’s see it.” Zamiel leaned over Mitzi who parted the blanket, revealing a darkeyed nestling with fluffy, pale gold feathers and a tiny, curved beak. The baby Raptvyn could fit in Zamiel’s palm. “Her, not it,” Mitzi corrected. “Hold out your hands and be careful.” Zamiel cast her a chastising look. “I thought I’d take her to the clearing for some fight training, Mitz.” “Don’t be sarcastic,” she said and placed the nestling, blanket and all, in Zamiel’s hands. “Has she tried changing shape yet?” he asked. “Oh yeah.” Arno chuckled. “If you’d come a few moments earlier, you’d have heard her screaming like someone was pulling her tail feathers out.” In very young Raptvyns, shifting shape was uncomfortable, but they adjusted quickly. Eventually the change became quite painless and actually felt good. Zamiel stared at his daughter, a smile tugging at his lips. He touched her little wings, which would be useless for flying for the first couple of years. “Soft feathers.” “She looks like a tumbleweed with eyes,” Arno remarked. Wrinkling her nose, Mitzi swatted his shoulder. “Nice comparison, second father.” “How is the other one doing?” Zamiel glanced around for the second egg. “Where the hell did it go?” “Cool it, Zamiel. It’s right here.” Mitzi patted a pile of blankets resting between her and Arno. “That one probably won’t hatch until late tonight or tomorrow,” Arno said.

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“I’m sending a message to my SQUAWK, telling them I won’t be there for the next couple of days. The guard I left in charge probably already figured that out, but I still need to give him some orders.” Zamiel reluctantly passed the nestling back to Mitzi. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was leave the nest, but once he concluded his SQUAWK business, he could return for the next few day unhindered. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Have you sent word to your parents yet?” Mitzi nodded. “Arno did. They’re coming tonight and bringing dinner.” “Good. Your mother knows how to cook,” Zamiel said, his mouth already watering. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitzi demanded. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my food?” “No. As long as we have extra seasoning around.” “Extra— Zamiel, if I wasn’t holding this nestling I’d swat you.” “Swat me later.” Zamiel playfully wiggled his eyebrows then left the nest.

***** By late the following morning, the second egg hatched. A male with dark brown feathers and blue eyes. The trio decided to call the girl Arla and the boy Bogart, or Bo for short. Zamiel hadn’t imagined himself to be the paternal type. He’d worried that he wouldn’t make a good father and that he would have little patience for nestlings. Arla and Bo helped him to discover a part of himself he never dreamed existed. He wondered why he’d waited so long to have a clutch. Like his mates, the nestlings added joy to his once lonely life. About a week after the nestlings arrived, Bobek called Zamiel to his treetop shelter for a private meeting. When Zamiel landed in the shelter, Bobek stood, gazing out the window, his long hair drifting in the autumn breeze. Zamiel noted his hair was now almost completely white. Though he still carried himself with pride, he had lately appeared thinner and older. After several seconds passed, Bobek turned to him. “Zamiel. How are the nestlings?” “Excellent, Sir.” “Good. Come and sit.” They knelt on the floor in the center of the room and Bobek continued, “I’ve been very pleased with your service as a SQUAWK leader.” “Thank you, Sir.” “I’ll get right to the point. Since you’ve joined this flock, I’ve been watching you closely. As you know, I have no living son to take over after I’m gone. My next male

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blood kin is Ondro. Upon my death or retirement, he will inherit leadership of the flock.” “I know.” Zamiel remained outwardly calm, yet his heartbeat quickened. He sensed what Bobek was about to say, and though he had promised his mates he wouldn’t fight for leadership, the thought of it excited him. Or perhaps it was simply the thought of sinking his talons into Ondro that thrilled him. “Ondro is a strong warrior, but he won’t make a good leader. He’s greedy and doesn’t consider the welfare of the people. That is not the Raptvyn way. Few among us have the power to unseat him. In this flock, you and Karel would be the most capable leaders. However, Karel is still young and doesn’t have your experience.” “He would be a good leader in spite of his youth,” Zamiel replied. “He’s also hot-headed and hasn’t yet learned the value of patience. You have, Zamiel. When I promoted you to Ondro’s SQUAWK, I was testing both of you. He performed as poorly as I expected, taking advantage of his position and pointlessly endangering his warriors. You, on the other hand, controlled your emotions and performed admirably. For as long as I’ve known you, even during your years as a rogue, you’ve acted like a leader. It is my wish and my hope that, when the time comes, you overthrow Ondro in the two-day challenge.” “I can’t do that, Sir.” Bobek held his gaze with such intensity that Zamiel’s stomach clenched. “A leader must want his position, of course, however, without you at its head, this flock has a precarious future.” “I’m grateful to you and this flock. As a guard, I will serve you, but my priority is my family and as the flock leader—” “As leader, you would be saving your family’s future. Ondro will destroy this flock. You know it as well as I do.” “As you said, Karel could defeat him.” “And with his temper and inexperience, he might inadvertently destroy the flock as well.” “By the time you’re ready to pass on leadership, Karel will have gained the experience he needs.” “Not necessarily.” Zamiel’s brow furrowed. “Are you not well, Sir?” “Well enough,” Bobek sighed. “For a Raptvyn of my age.” The flock leader paused, a look of reluctance passing over his face. Finally he said, “I’ve been having some breathing difficulty. You know with our kind, it’s usually the lungs or heart that get us in the end.” A strange feeling crept over Zamiel. He had grown to like Bobek, and knowing he wasn’t well saddened him—and made him worry about the future. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 141

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“I still have time left.” Bobek waved his hand. “However, if my weakness becomes obvious, Ondro will most likely push for my retirement and he would be well within his rights.” “You are the flock leader,” Zamiel stated, annoyed because he knew Bobek was right about Ondro. He wanted power and would leap at the chance to claim it before his time. “When the flock accepted you, they accepted you for life.” “By the Creed, there are times when a leader can be removed.” “The flock won’t—” “The flock will follow the strongest hand. My mates are dead, so I have no second in command. You or one of the other SQUAWK leaders could take over many of my duties, but by blood, Ondro has the most rights, unless someone unseats him. I had hoped that someone would be you.” “I’m sorry,” Zamiel said with heartfelt honesty. He didn’t want to see the flock destroyed, but he’d never wanted leadership. Of course, that was before he was threatened by war with his ancestral flock. Not only that, under Ondro’s rule, his life would probably be unbearable. That would affect his family, perhaps even make them targets for Ondro and his mates. Ondro’s female mate and Mitzi didn’t get along at all. Imagine what would happen if Hilde became the mate of the flock leader? In a similar position, Mitzi wouldn’t abuse her power in spite of her short temper. Still, he knew Mitzi and Arno didn’t want him to fight for leadership. They’d made that plain enough. Whatever happened, the trio would need to adjust their lives, but those adjustments couldn’t include Zamiel fighting for leadership. “I see questioning in your eyes,” Bobek said. “No. No questions, Sir.” “Consider your decision carefully, Zamiel. A flock depends on a strong, stable leader.” They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before Zamiel said, “I will think about it, but I’ve already given my mates my word.” “Mitzi and Arno are strong. They will eventually see the wisdom of you leading this flock.” “I’m not a leader. I was a rogue. Now I’m head of a family.” “You are a leader, Zamiel. However, I understand your reluctance.” “Is that all, Sir?” “Yes. You may go.” Zamiel nodded and left the shelter, his thoughts churning with Bobek’s words.

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Chapter Thirteen Two nights later, Mitzi’s parents offered to watch the nestlings, giving the trio a night for themselves. Since Zamiel didn’t need to meet his SQUAWK until the following afternoon and Arno had the day off, they decided to spend the night in Zamiel’s old nest. Mitzi’s parents arrived before dusk. “There’s lots of food in the storage bins,” Mitzi said. “And extra blankets in the corner.” “All right,” Mitzi’s mother said, kneeling by the nestlings and picking up Arla who cawed softly. “Bo likes an extra blanket when he sleeps,” Mitzi continued. “Fine,” said Mathias, her blood father. “You three have a good time tonight.” “Let me see Bo,” said Mitzi’s second father, bending to pick up the other nestling. “Remember not to tickle Arla’s wings. She doesn’t like it,” Mitzi added. “And if it gets too cold, make sure they’re warm enough—” “Mitzi!” Zamiel said. “Enough already. This isn’t the first time they’ve taken care of nestlings.” He turned to Mathias. “How many clutches have you three had?” “Four clutches and seven nestlings,” he replied. “They’re experts.” Arno tugged Mitzi’s arm. “Come on.” “All right. Just don’t let them stay up too late and get overtired—” Zamiel clamped a hand over Mitzi’s mouth and, grinning, pulled her close. “We’re leaving. Mitzi’s shifting shape now.” She did so, pecking his hand with her thick, curved beak. “Hey!” Zamiel snapped. “Let’s get going,” Arno said, stepping between his mates. Moments later, the trio was off to Zamiel’s old nest. A thrill of excitement darted through Arno. For the past several months they’d been so obsessed with their clutch that their love life had suffered. Now with a night of total freedom back in the nest where they’d first fallen in love, he and his mates would rekindle their passion. The nest, though abandoned for over a year, was made so strong that it held up well even without repairs. After about an hour of cleaning, it was livable again. The trio ate dinner, then sat talking.

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Zamiel lay on his back and sighed, gazing up at the sky, a smile on his lips. “I actually missed this place. Strange, isn’t it?” “Not really.” Mitzi curled up on her side near him, using her fingertip to trace random patterns on his chest. “It brings back good memories. We had some great times in this nest.” “Mmm.” Arno grinned, stretching out behind Mitzi, her body pressed close to his. He ran his hand from her hip to Zamiel’s flat stomach. “Let’s get started making another memory right now.” “Good idea.” Zamiel took Arno’s hand and raised it to his lips. He sucked his index finger and rolled his tongue over the pad. Passion rushed through Arno and his cock twitched to life. Mitzi wiggled her bottom against Arno, arousing him further. Though he enjoyed fondling Mitzi, he’d never thought of penetrating her—until now. He wondered how it would feel to claim her smooth brown ass with his cock. After giving Arno’s index finger one last, firm suck, Zamiel released his hand, cupped one of Mitzi’s breasts and began licking and kissing it. Arno slid his hands over her ass. The woman had the most beautiful female bottom on the planet. Tight and marvelous to touch. He gently stroked her sphincter, the tip of his finger rubbing the sensitive flesh. “Oh Arno,” she breathed. She drew a sharp breath, clutched Zamiel’s head closer to her breast and added, “Zamiel! You guys are making me a happy woman tonight.” “We’ve only just begun,” Arno said and nibbled her earlobe. “Let me fuck your ass, Mitzi.” His finger stroked her sphincter a bit faster, teasing the ring of muscle. She gasped and said, “Sounds good.” “I have an idea,” Zamiel said. He moved onto his back, grasped her waist and dragged her atop him. “Get on your hands and knees over me.” She did as he asked and he scooted down until he could lift his head and suck her nipples. Arno smiled, his pulse quickening and cock stiffening even more. He loved Zamiel’s idea and knew it would drive Mitzi wild. While Zamiel sucked and fondled her breasts, Arno positioned himself on his knees behind her. He reached for the scented oil he’d brought from their nest and applied it liberally to his cock and her ass. Grasping her by the hips, he slowly filled her with his staff. Her gasps and moans thrilled him, yet he moved as slowly and gently as possible, giving her time to adjust to the new sensations taking over her body. “Oh Arno. Zamiel,” she panted, her fingers gripping the blankets tightly. Moistening his lips, Arno began thrusting into her. As he pumped, he caressed her hips and back, then slid a hand around her and rubbed her clit with his oil-slicked 144

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fingers. He felt her body heat with passion, the tension in her muscles and her cries of pleasure exciting him so much that he trembled and fought to control his desire. When he felt the orgasmic pulsations roll through her, he shattered, moaning and thrusting until they both collapsed beside Zamiel. After a moment, Arno opened his eyes and found Zamiel staring at them with lust, his hand curled around his shaft. “Come?” Arno pleaded. Zamiel’s lips curved upward in a sultry smile that faded as he closed his eyes and stroked himself to climax. Arno gazed at him, his arousal rekindling at the sight of Zamiel’s cock spurting his essence, his powerful muscles tensing and an expression of bliss on his rugged face.

***** After Mitzi and Zamiel fell asleep, Arno lay on his back, staring at the stars, though he was too preoccupied to fully admire their beauty. Bobek hadn’t been looking well of late and Arno wasn’t the only member of the flock to notice. The leader was getting old, nearing the end of his reign. That meant Ondro would be taking over unless someone defeated him in the two-day challenge. If he became the flock leader, they would go to war with Arno and Zamiel’s ancestral flock. In spite of how he and Zamiel had tried to convince Mitzi everything would be all right, the truth was their family would be deeply affected one way or the other. Ondro detested Zamiel and as leader would make his life hell. Most likely he would ensure Zamiel go to battle first and take the most dangerous assignments. While some of the flock members agreed with Ondro about invasion, most wanted to keep the peace. Many hoped Zamiel would enter the two-day challenge. Though he wasn’t a member of the flock by blood, he was well respected and the people would follow him. Arno had to admit Zamiel would make an excellent leader, yet that would also mean big changes for their family. No matter what Arno said, he knew as well as Mitzi that Zamiel had a spark burning inside him for leadership. A man of his skill and intelligence was wasted as a guard, even as a SQUAWK leader. There was something commanding and unconquerable about him, yet at the same time he made those around him feel secure. If he took leadership, then most likely Arno, as his mate, would become his second in command. On rare occasions, a leader could select someone who wasn’t his mate to act as second, but usually the unspoken rule of the mating ceremony was the males acted as seconds to each other. This made Arno a bit nervous. Yes, Zamiel had trained him well and he had become a formidable warrior, but he was still a trade manager. Was he good enough, strong enough, to back a flock leader? If the situation arises, I’ll have to be, Arno thought with determination.

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Zamiel placed a hand on Arno’s arm and stroked it, whispering, “Arno, what’s wrong? Why can’t you sleep?” Turning to his lover, Arno shook his head slightly. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing.” Zamiel glanced at Mitzi, who was sound asleep. He then motioned for Arno to join him in the far corner of the nest. Seated so close that their heads touched, Zamiel said, “Tell me what’s on your mind. You’ve looked distracted for a couple of days now.” “Just thinking of the nestlings.” “That’s a load of crap. I thought we decided long ago to be honest with each other.” “All right, I’m thinking about Bobek, and Ondro taking over after he’s gone.” “I’ve been thinking of that lately too.” “I sounded much more confident in front of Mitzi than I really felt.” “Me too,” Zamiel admitted. “Then the two of you are liars,” Mitzi said from across the nest. “How long have you been awake?” Zamiel demanded. “Long enough.” She stood and joined them, dragging a blanket with her. “It’s getting chilly.” Zamiel tugged her between him and Arno and spread the blanket over them all. “Bobek hasn’t been looking very healthy,” Arno said. “The talk around the Convocation Clearing is he’s been sick.” “The fact is Ondro is going to assume leadership sooner or later,” Mitzi said. “And the way things are going, it looks like it’s going to be sooner. If that happens, then our flock goes to war with your ancestral flock.” “That means we’ll be fighting Jindra, Vlad and my brothers,” Arno said softly. “Oh, most of my brothers live on the outskirts of the flock, but if there’s a war, they’ll be back for it. I don’t want to fight against my family.” “If Ondro takes over, we could ask Vlad to accept us into your flock,” Mitzi suggested. “We won’t be able to stay here with Ondro and Hilde heading the flock. Life would be unbearable, especially for Zamiel.” “I can handle Ondro,” Zamiel said. “Even if he’s the leader?” Mitzi pointed out. “You want to move to Vlad’s flock?” Zamiel asked. “That means when the war starts, we’ll be fighting against your blood father. He’s a hunter, and they, as well as guards, will be fighting. I’ll be fighting either way. Do you really want me to possibly be forced to wound or kill Mathias in battle?” “No,” Mitzi said quickly. Arno sighed. “This is our home now. We can’t travel from flock to flock each time something bad happens. Eventually, no one will accept us.”

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“Ondro will destroy this flock,” Mitzi said, glancing from Arno to Zamiel. “We know that.” “Unless someone defeats him,” Zamiel said. A sinking feeling came over Arno. Looking just as worried, Mitzi said, “Oh no. You promised, Zamiel. I know plenty of flock members want you to fight him, but you need to think about what’s best for this family.” “I am thinking about that,” Zamiel said. “I always said family before flock, but now I’m starting to realize the only way to save my family is to lead the flock.” “Zamiel, think carefully,” Arno said. “I have been thinking carefully. I don’t want leadership, but I certainly don’t want Ondro to head the flock.” “Yes, you do want leadership,” Mitzi said quietly. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “If you didn’t want it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The worst part is, you’re right.” “What?” Both Zamiel and Arno spoke in unison. They turned to her in disbelief. “Like you said, Zamiel, one way or the other, you’re going to fight.” “This way I can choose my ground and choose my opponent,” he said, looking at both Arno and Mitzi. “I can fight an entire flock during a war or I can fight Ondro and keep the peace.” “What about Karel?” Arno suggested. “I’m going to speak to Karel. Feel him out and see if he intends to challenge.” “You’d make a better leader than Karel,” Arno said quietly. “Then are we agreed that when the time comes I should enter the two-day challenge?” Zamiel asked. “Tell me the truth, because this decision affects us all.” Beneath the blanket, Arno held Mitzi’s hand, his grip almost painfully tight. She clung to him just as forcefully. “Yes,” Mitzi said in a strained voice. “Challenge him.” “I agree,” Arno stated, a horrible feeling twisting his gut. He felt as if he was sending the love of his life into hell, yet it was the only way. Zamiel cocked his head slightly to one side. “You two seem to have no question about whether or not I can beat him.” “As the humans say, you’ll wipe the floor with him,” Arno said. Of that he had no doubt. Ondro was tough, one of the most powerful warriors in the flock, but Zamiel was stronger. Arno had no doubt about it. “You’re better than him in every way,” Mitzi said. “The question is will I be adequate as your second in command?” Arno asked.

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“More than adequate,” Zamiel stated. “You’ve become a skilled hunter and warrior and the diplomatic skills that make you a great trade manager would be an asset to any leader. Especially if he lacks finesse, which I sometimes do.” “Sometimes?” Mitzi snorted, trying to sound teasing, though it didn’t quite work. She still looked too worried. “No matter what happens, you know I love you both,” Zamiel said, staring at his lovers, his beautiful blue eyes alive with emotion. “I love you too.” Mitzi rested her head against his shoulder and Arno leaned closer to brush his lips with a kiss. Mere words weren’t enough to convey the depth of his feelings for Zamiel, but he said, “I love you very much and I am always behind you. No matter what.” Their bodies entwined, they fell silent and finally drifted to sleep.

***** The following day, Zamiel and Arno added extra training to their schedules and Zamiel spoke privately to Bobek about his decision regarding Ondro. The old leader clasped Zamiel’s shoulders firmly and held his gaze. “I know this choice wasn’t made easily, but it is the best one. I am greatly relieved this flock will be led by the right man.” “I hope so,” Zamiel said. “Who is to say I’m the right one?” “You think of others before yourself. You have strength and experience. And you don’t need me to tell you this, Zamiel. You already know it. What I can give you during the time I have left is the knowledge I’ve gained over these past forty years of leadership. I plan to step down next month. Will that give you enough time?” One month. For some reason Zamiel had hoped Bobek would remain in power longer, yet the old leader was right of course. With his health slipping, Ondro was sure to notice and publicly press for him to retire. This way Ondro could make no complaint, yet Zamiel would have time to prepare more fully for the task ahead of him. “Yes. That’s time enough.” “Of course I will be available to advise you afterward.” “How have you been feeling?” “Tired. Once I step down, I’ll be able to take it easier. According to Toni, I could have years left, if I’m careful.” Bobek snorted. “Careful. I was once among the greatest warriors in our flock.” “You’ve led for over forty years. I’d say that makes you the greatest,” Zamiel said, careful to keep the sympathy from his voice and expression. It was difficult watching a proud warrior step down in this way. Had Ondro not been so desperate for leadership, Bobek could have continued as leader for longer. His mind was as active as ever. It was his body that now failed him.

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“At one time.” Bobek smiled slightly. “Now it’s your time, Zamiel.” Zamiel hoped he could fulfill the expectations of his family, flock and Bobek. For a man who had spent decades as a rogue, his life had taken so many unexpected turns, but perhaps that was what life was about.

***** Several nights later, Mitzi stood preparing dinner while keeping an eye on her nestlings who played in a penned-off corner of the nest. They cawed and flapped their tiny wings in mock flight. If Zamiel became the flock leader, that meant Bo would be next in line. Yet one more worry to plague her mind. Still, she knew Arno and Zamiel were right when they said she couldn’t spend her entire life worrying about the future. “There’s enough trouble in the present,” she muttered. In spite of her concern, deep inside, part of her liked the idea of being the mate of the flock leader. She couldn’t deny being proud of Zamiel for taking on this responsibility. Not many would have the courage to challenge a Raptvyn like Ondro. She prayed Zamiel wouldn’t be too damaged during the challenge, or worse, killed. Shaking her head and closing her eyes for a moment, she blocked out the nightmarish image of a future without him. She had just finished preparing the meal when Zamiel and Arno joined her. It was the first time in days they’d be sharing dinner together. Both males had been busy between their regular duties and training for Zamiel’s ascent to flock leader. Zamiel had also been spending much time in Bobek’s company. Though they hadn’t spoken of his decision to challenge to anyone beside Bobek, no doubt other flock members had surmised it. The way gossip literally flew about flock territory, Mitzi realized just about everyone knew that when Bobek stepped down early next month, Ondro would be challenged. “Hey.” Zamiel pulled her into his arms and kissed her, then turned to the nestlings. “How was training today?” Mitzi asked, accepting Arno’s embrace. He rested his head against her shoulder for a long moment and she stroked his back. “Good,” Arno replied. “What’s for dinner?” “Smoked meat and acorn stew.” “Great. I’m hungry,” Zamiel said, walking toward them with a nestling in each arm. Arno took Bo and tickled his belly until he chirped with laughter. The family sat down to dinner and talked over the events of the day. The meal was nearly over when Karel and Darik cawed outside the nest, asking for entry. Zamiel told them to come in and, moments later, the two warriors landed and changed to their man form. “We have something important to discuss with you,” Karel said.

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“Regarding leadership of the flock,” Darik added. Zamiel turned from them and exchanged glances with his mates. “Would you come with us?” Darik asked. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of my mates,” Zamiel stated. Nodding, Karel said, “The rumor is you’re planning to challenge Ondro for leadership, that you’re favored by Bobek.” “There’s also a rumor that you are among the challengers,” Zamiel told him. “That is true. Rather than see Ondro head our flock, I would fight him for the position myself. Leadership appeals to me, but I know my faults. I am not the best Raptvyn for the job. If you challenge Ondro, I want you to know I will back you.” Again Zamiel glanced at his mates. This both surprised and relieved Mitzi. The more support Zamiel had from flock members, the better for him. “The same goes for me,” Darik stated. “And we’re not the only ones. Just as Ondro has been rallying supporters, there is a large group of us who oppose him. We’ve been communicating secretly and thought it time to bring you into the fold, especially since you are our first choice for leadership. Will you come and meet with us tonight?” “How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?” Zamiel asked. “For all I know, you could be among those recruited by Ondro.” Karel’s eyes blazed and he stood, fists clenched. “How dare you—” “Calm down.” Darik placed a hand on Karel’s shoulder. “He asks a legitimate question.” “He questions our motives as if we’re Ondro’s blood kin—” A caw from Mitzi’s blood father interrupted them. Mathias swooped into the nest and landed. “I don’t blame Zamiel for being careful. That’s part of the reason we feel he’ll make a good leader. You can trust them, however.” Mathias held Zamiel’s gaze. “I am part of the group they speak of.” “Mathias?” Mitzi asked, thoroughly shocked. She stared at her blood father. “Why didn’t you say anything before this?” Zamiel demanded. “Because you are my daughter’s head of family,” Mathias replied. “It is not my place to influence your decision about leadership one way or the other. Since you’ve finally chosen, I can’t deny that I’m pleased.” “Now will you meet with us?” Darik asked. “You and Arno, unless you have another choice for second?” “No. Arno is my second,” Zamiel stated. Then both he and Arno turned to Mitzi. “Go,” she said. “Do what you need to.” “My female mate is relieved to know you will be mother of the flock leader’s heir instead of Hilde,” Karel said. “That female is swamp scum.” Mitzi couldn’t help agreeing, yet she forced herself to say, “Thanks for the sentiment, but stooping to insults isn’t appropriate. At least not yet.” 150

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Darik smiled. “Spoken like a true flock leader’s mate. We won’t keep Zamiel and Arno for too long.” Mitzi watched the males shift shape and fly out of the nest. Once they’d gone, she sighed deeply, her stomach tight with anxiety. For the first time, the challenge for leadership seemed incredibly real to her.

***** It surprised Zamiel to learn how many flock members belonged to the group supporting him for leadership. Included were three SQUAWK leaders, many guards and hunters. They told him Toni also opposed Ondro but had recently left their group, stating personal reasons. Curious, Zamiel flew to his mentor’s nest after the meeting to find out why. When he arrived, he cawed for Toni, who asked him to enter. The healer and his mate Jirina greeted him. “Would you like tea?” Jirina asked. She offered Zamiel a smile. “No, thank you. I came to talk to Toni, if I’m not intruding.” “Of course not,” she said. “Would you like privacy?” “No,” Toni stated. “Whatever I’m about to say to Zamiel, I’ve told you already.” Jirina looked uncomfortable and exchanged glances with Zamiel who said, “Then you know why I’m here?” “I’m assuming it’s to do with the meeting that took place tonight.” “I was told you didn’t want to be there, though up until now you’ve supported the group opposed to Ondro’s leadership.” “And I’m told you intend to challenge Ondro.” Toni stared at him hard. “He’ll send this flock into war for no reason but his own greed and hunger for power. Someone needs to stop him.” “But that someone doesn’t have to be you.” “You would prefer to see Ondro as leader?” “No. I would prefer not to see you challenge him.” “One way or the other, I can’t avoid fighting. It’s either Ondro or our ancestral flock.” His eyes flashing, Toni said, “A flock that once shunned you.” Anger coiled inside Zamiel. Anger and confusion. “I don’t need to be reminded of that.” If no one else had supported him, he thought the one person he could depend on would be Toni. What was wrong with him? “Need I remind you that Arno still has friends and family in our ancestral flock?” Zamiel continued.

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“I understand your desire to help your mate, but what about your children?” “I’m fighting for a better life for them. You don’t think I can defeat Ondro, is that it?” Shrugging, Toni asked, “Do you think you can?” “You trained me.” “That doesn’t answer my question.” “Yes. I can and will defeat Ondro.” With a sigh, Toni shook his head. “I remember a similar conversation over thirty years ago with your father. You know how that turned out and what happened to you because of his arrogance.” “I’m not underestimating Ondro. I know he’s a skilled and cunning warrior. Defeating him won’t be easy, but I will defeat him. I am not my father,” Zamiel said fiercely. “Why are you against me?” “I’m not against you.” Toni leaned closer and grasped Zamiel’s forearm hard. “I’m for you, Zamiel. For you living a long, happy life with the comfort of your family. I don’t want to see you sent to an early grave by some power-hungry warrior.” “Toni,” Jirina said sharply and shook her head. “It’s all right, Jirina.” Zamiel jerked away from Toni’s grasp and stood. “I came here for answers. Now I have them. I’m grateful to you, Toni, for all you’ve done for me, but I can’t take your advice in this matter. I’m going to do what I must. I’d prefer to have you on my side, but whether you support me or not, I ‘m challenging Ondro.” Before Toni could respond, Zamiel shifted shape and flew off. Zamiel wasn’t sure if he was more angry or hurt. All his life, Toni was the one person he’d been able to depend on, the one person he’d always trusted. Now he abandoned him when he most needed support. It didn’t matter. He had Mitzi and Arno on his side. They were the ones who meant the most to him. And he had many flock members backing him. Without that acceptance, he would seem as power hungry as Ondro, fighting for leadership of a flock to which he had no blood ties. When he reached the nest, Arno had already filled in Mitzi on what had happened at the meeting. Though he knew the situation concerned her greatly, she kept her worries to herself. One thing about Mitzi, she had plenty of guts. That was one of the characteristics that had attracted him to her from the first.

***** The month passed more quickly than Zamiel imagined possible. As the time for the two-day challenge neared, he turned much of his concentration inward. Though he didn’t want to distance his family, he needed complete focus to beat a warrior like

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Ondro. His mind and body needed to be sharp or else he would lose his life. Then where would his family be? As the challenge neared, he began to question his decision. Perhaps Toni was right. Was he arrogant to think that a former rogue like himself could rise to flock leader? Did he want glory and power for himself or was he truly doing this for the good of flock and family? He did his best to thrust such doubts out of his mind. They would only weaken him and given Ondro an advantage. Whenever he saw Ondro, heard him talk and saw him strut around the Convocation Clearing as if he owned it, he knew he was doing the right thing. That bird needed his wings clipped and Zamiel would be the one to do it. Four days before Bobek’s formal retirement, Zamiel was alone by a lake, practicing aerial dives when a hunter flew toward him, cawing an emergency message. Arno was severely injured in a clearing several miles away. Panic nearly overtook him and he followed the hunter’s lead. No sooner had he landed than he realized his mistake. Several guards and hunters, whom he recognized as acquaintances of Ondro, swooped down on him. He screamed in rage and fought back with beak and talon, yet he was greatly outnumbered. Wings beat around him, deafening him. Savage beaks and powerful talons tore at his flesh. Images of the past flashed across his mind, of being attacked by Rostya’s guards. He would not be defeated again by a group loyal to an enemy. Raptvyns dove on him, pressing his face into the dirt, smothering him. With an almost supernatural effort, he hurled them off and ascended. Again they covered him, but he grasped one with his talons and another with his beak. Turning in the air, he heard their bones snap and their screeches of pain echo through the forest. Talons ripped across his face and sank deep into his shoulders. Bleeding from dozens of gouges, he felt himself weakening, yet he continued to fight. Finally he managed to fee himself from the tangle of limbs and feathers. He flew as fast as he could, nearly blinded by blood, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would explode in his chest. In the distance, a waterfall roared down the mountain, pushing into a fast running river. Ondro’s warriors still on his tail, he dove headfirst into the cascade. The sound of water deafened him. He managed a couple of gasps before he submerged completely, his already broken body battered against the rocks as the water pushed him downstream. If he lived, he wondered how he would find the strength to get help. Without it, there was no way he could survive with these injuries, not even with a Raptvyn’s power of regeneration.

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Chapter Fourteen After his meeting with the other trade managers, Arno had plans to meet Zamiel by the lake to practice aerial dives. Upon arriving, he was surprised not to find Zamiel already there since he had the afternoon off from SQUAWK duties. He waited for a while then decided to check the Convocation Clearing. Perhaps he had SQUAWK business to attend to after all or maybe Bobek had summoned him. A quick flight past the flock leader’s treetop shelter revealed Bobek in a meeting with several guards, but Zamiel wasn’t among them. Nearby he saw a couple of members of Zamiel’s SQUAWK, who reassured him that their leader was scheduled for the afternoon off, just as planned. Arno began to worry. He flew home, thinking Zamiel might have stopped by the nest. Mitzi and her mother were there, drinking tea and watching the nestlings. “Has Zamiel been here?” Arno asked. “No. I thought you and he were training?” “We’re supposed to be, but I can’t find him.” “Is he with his SQUAWK?” Mitzi stood, a worried look in her eyes. Perhaps she’d picked up on his concern or maybe they were both on edge now that the two-day challenge hovered so close. “I checked with them already. He said he’d meet me at noon. I’m going to look for him.” “I’m going with you.” Mitzi turned to her mother. “Would you watch the nestlings?” “Of course.” An hour later, with still no sign of Zamiel, both Arno and Mitzi knew something was wrong. He wouldn’t have disappeared on an afternoon off without leaving a message. Several flock members, including Mitzi’s fathers, Toni, Darik and Milo joined in their search. With the two-day challenge so near, none of them trusted Ondro not to try something underhanded to eliminate the competition. Arno and Milo had paired off to search the area by the lake. Flying swiftly, they used their keen Raptvyn vision to search the mountains. They were about to head back to the Convocation Clearing when Arno caught movement in the trees by a stream. He cawed for Milo and they dipped lower to investigate.

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Arno’s heart seemed to freeze in his chest as he saw Zamiel, drenched in blood, stumbling toward the water.

***** Zamiel awoke feverish, suffering from a variety of injuries and a general ache from head to toe. Groaning softly, he opened his eyes and found Mitzi sitting beside him. In spite of the concern in her expression, she smiled and stroked his hair. “Hey.” “Mitzi.” He moistened his cracked lips and reached for her. Even that slight movement proved difficult, since his limbs felt heavy and sore. Glancing around, he saw they were in his old nest. “Can you tell me your name?” Toni asked, approaching from Zamiel’s other side and squatting near him. “Zamiel,” he replied. “What are you doing here?” “Patching your ass back together,” Toni said. “What do you think?” “I think you should leave. You made it clear you’re not on my side, so I don’t know what your sudden change of—” Zamiel stopped speaking and gasped as he tried to sit up. “Serves you right,” Mitzi scolded, gently guiding him down. “Toni is here to help. Don’t be a stubborn fool.” His head propped on a pillow, Zamiel closed his eyes and sighed, listening to his heartbeat echo in his ears. “Stop moving before you reopen your wounds,” Toni said. “You nearly bled to death and you’re still not out of the woods, if you’ll pardon the expression.” “Do you remember what happened to you?” Mitzi asked. “Yeah. I was attacked by a group of guards. Ondro’s men,” Zamiel replied. He explained how he escaped down the waterfall and washed up on shore. He wasn’t sure how long he walked, trying to find help. The last thing he remembered was making his way toward a stream to quench his thirst and collapsing into Arno’s arms. “Speaking of Arno, where is he?” Zamiel asked, glancing around the nest. “He’s gone off to bring back a human healer,” Toni said with a hint of apprehension. “The mate of an old friend of his.” “Parker and Jindra,” Mitzi explained. “When they found you, Arno asked Milo to fly you here. He figured you’d be safer at your old nest in case Ondro was behind what happened to you. Many of us suspected right away that Ondro had something to do with your disappearance. You have some bad injuries.” “Scarcely noticed,” Zamiel murmured, closing his eyes tightly. Now that he was fully awake, he was really starting to hurt. “Here.” Toni lifted his head and held a mug to his lips. “Drink this for the pain.”

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Zamiel took several swallows of the bitter liquid. “Thank you. Toni, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful—” “Forget it. In a way, I had it coming. You’re right about the dangers of a man like Ondro taking leadership. I didn’t want to see you and your family destroyed like what happened with your father. But as you said, you’re not him. You had a very good chance of defeating Ondro and he knew it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered ambushing you.” “Speaking of that, we need to let the rest of the flock know what he did,” Mitzi said. “No.” Zamiel grasped her arm and stared into her eyes. “Not yet.” “But—” “Please. When Arno returns, tell him the same thing. Who else knows about what’s happened?” “Milo. My parents. Darik and a few of the guards.” Zamiel nodded, fighting against the sleep that threatened to overtake him as the pain medicine kicked in. “But none of them know yet that Ondro was behind my accident?” “No. You’ve been unconscious for hours,” Toni said. “Tell the others I’ve had a hunting accident and haven’t awakened yet. Nothing more.” “But—” “Mitzi, listen to me,” he stated. “Please.” She and Toni exchanged glances. “All right.” “Where are the nestlings?” “With my mother.” “Bring them here. It’s safer.” Zamiel’s tongue felt thick and he could no longer keep his eyes open. Still, he heard Mitzi said, “He’s right, Toni. If Ondro went this far, there’s no telling what he might do next. He might try to harm our nestlings.” “Go get them. I’ll stay with Zamiel.” Zamiel heard the rustle of feathers as Mitzi changed shape and flew off, then everything faded to darkness.

***** When Zamiel awoke next, it was dark and there was a chill in the breeze blowing into the sheltered section of the nest. Parker and Jindra had joined his mates and Toni. The nestlings were there as well, safe and warm in a penned-off area.

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Though still sore, Zamiel felt much stronger than before. Arno was the first to notice that Zamiel had woken. He nudged Mitzi and approached Zamiel, followed by Parker, Jindra and Toni. “How are you feeling?” Arno asked, taking his hand. Zamiel squeezed it and smiled slightly. “Better.” “Good,” Parker said, tugging down the injured Raptvyn’s blanket so he could examine his stitched chest and bruised ribs. “He’s healing quickly now,” Toni said. “Yeah,” Parker agreed and met Zamiel’s gaze. “You had some pretty nasty injuries.” “You would have too if a bunch of guards attacked you,” Mitzi said and kissed Zamiel’s cheek. “He’s strong though.” Parker covered Zamiel again and touched a hand to his forehead. “Fever is still down.” “Thank you for all you’ve done,” Arno said, looking from Parker to Toni. “Both of you.” “I must admit his human medicine worked well. Thank you for your assistance,” Toni said to Parker. The human smiled slightly. “Thank the antibiotics and his Raptvyn constitution.” Parker glanced around. “This is a great nest, by the way. Jindra, why don’t you build a deluxe model like this?” “Hey, between my career and keeping you happy, when do I have time for renovations?” Jindra said, arching an eyebrow. “How long do you think it will be before Zamiel fully recovers?” Mitzi asked. Parker glanced at her. “With his healing power, I’d say he’ll be almost as good as new inside a week.” The doctor turned back to Zamiel. “As long as you rest a lot.” “A week,” Zamiel breathed. “The two-day challenge starts in three days.” “Well, you won’t be there,” Mitzi stated. “Yes, I will. If I wait until the last night of the challenge to attack that will give me nearly five days to recuperate.” “Bad idea,” Parker said. “You won’t be fully recovered.” “Bad idea? It’s downright crazy,” Toni snapped. “To fight a Raptvyn like Ondro, you need to be at full strength, and even then you’re lucky if you come out of it alive.” “It’s risky,” Jindra said. “But possible.” “Do not take any advice from him.” Parker jerked a thumb in Jindra’s direction. “He has scared the hell out of me more times than I can count with his Raptvyn warrior antics. If I had a dime for every time I’ve stitched him back together—” “Oh shut it.” Jindra grasped Parker by the waist and tugged him close. Before the doctor could protest, Jindra covered his mouth with a kiss. 157

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“If I don’t take care of Ondro now, we’ll never be able to continue living in this flock. Not only that, he’ll know he got the better of me.” Mitzi curled her lip. “He ambushed you. He cheated, Zamiel.” “If Karel doesn’t take him first in the challenge, I will.” A strange silence fell over the nest and everyone exchanged glances. “What?” Zamiel demanded. “There was an accident during SQUAWK training. Karel was badly injured,” Arno said. “How badly?” “He lost a talon.” Zamiel closed his eyes for a moment. “Fuck. I’d bet my tail feathers Ondro had something to do with it.” “That’s what people are saying, but there’s no proof. It seemed like a legitimate accident,” Toni said. “Somebody has to take Ondro out,” Zamiel stated. “That someone can’t be you.” Mitzi glared at him, her eyes glistening with anger and concern. “I don’t care if we have to leave this flock.” “She’s right,” Arno said. “We’ll live elsewhere. Fighting Ondro is not worth your life.” “Even if you don’t fight, will your flock follow a man who initiated an ambush to cheat his way into leadership?” Jindra asked. “It goes against the Raptvyn Creed.” “Ondro has followers within the flock who care little for the Creed,” Zamiel said. “And I’ve asked those who know what happened to me not to make it public. The flock doesn’t know I was ambushed. They think it was a hunting accident. If Ondro believes I was so badly injured that I haven’t regained consciousness, I’ll take him by surprise when I challenge him.” Jindra lifted an eyebrow. “That’s actually a smart plan.” “No, it isn’t.” Mitzi curled her lip. “It’s stupid. Zamiel, you must have shit instead of brains between your ears.” “If I had known that was your reason for keeping what happened a secret, I wouldn’t have agreed to it,” Toni said. Mitzi’s jaw tightened visibly. “That goes double for me.” Zamiel glanced at Arno, who folded his arms across his chest. “I understand you want to fight Ondro, but I tend to agree with them.” “I say we tell the flock now exactly what he did and let them decide,” Toni stated. “Even if the flock doesn’t accept Ondro as leader, do you really believe it will be over between us? I’ll constantly be watching my back and worrying that he’ll attack those I love to get to me.”

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Mitzi shook her head, a disgusted expression on her face. “I hate it when he’s right. It’s not me I’m worried about, Zamiel. It’s Arla and Bo.” “I’m going to end this during the two-day challenge. This flock will be safe again if it’s the last thing I do.” “It might just be,” Toni sighed. “If you’re against me—” “I’m not,” Toni stated. “You have good reason. But what happens if you lose, Zamiel?” “Mitzi, I want you and Arno to take the nestlings someplace safe and stay there until I send word that it’s safe to return. If you don’t hear from me then—” “No way,” Arno stated. “I agree Mitzi needs to take the nestlings to safety, but there is no way in hell I’m leaving you to face this alone. When we mated I became your second and I intend to stay at your side until this is over, one way or the other.” “I am the head of this family and you will do as I tell you.” “I am your second and my place is with you.” Arno met Zamiel’s gaze with stubbornness he’d never seen before. “I agree with Arno,” Mitzi said. “But I’ll ask my sister to take the nestlings—” “No,” Arno and Zamiel said in unison. “If anything happens to us, you’re the only parent they’ll have left,” Arno said. “Your place is with them, Mitzi.” She looked ready to argue, then nodded. “You’re right. Should I take them to your ancestral flock?” “You can take them back home with us,” Jindra said. Parker nodded. “Definitely. There’s no way any Raptvyn will chase you down among humans. You’ll be safe there.” “That’s generous of you,” Mitzi said, “but—” “We won’t take no for an answer,” Jindra told her. Arno turned to his old friend and embraced him. “I always could count on you.” Smiling, Jindra hugged him briefly. “Please. Don’t get mushy on me.” “Thank you both,” Zamiel said to the couple. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be grateful to a son of Rostya,” Jindra said, a teasing look in his eyes. “Neither did I,” Zamiel admitted. “When should we leave?” Mitzi asked. “I’d like to stick around for another day and keep an eye on Zamiel,” Parker said. “All right. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow,” Jindra told them. “Now I suggest we all get some rest.”

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While Parker, Jindra and Toni found corners of the nest to sleep in, Arno lay beside Zamiel. Mitzi checked on the nestlings but joined her mates moments later. With his mates cuddled close, Zamiel closed his eyes. In spite of the thoughts dashing through his mind, he fell asleep quickly, still tired from his ordeal.

***** The morning Mitzi and the nestlings were to leave with Jindra and Parker, she felt almost sick with worry. She managed to keep a tight rein on her emotions, not wanting to add to Zamiel’s concerns. He had enough to deal with fighting Ondro. She watched him say goodbye to the nestlings. They were in their human form as he held them close and kissed their downy heads before placing them in their travel packs. Mitzi and Arno would fly the nestlings to Jindra’s car that was hidden behind a clump of trees on a lonely stretch of highway. It would be a fairly long flight across the Canadian border into upstate New York, so she would at least have a bit more time to spend with Arno before he returned to Raptvyn country. Zamiel caressed the nestlings’ faces one last time then stood, turned to Mitzi and pulled her into his arms. They clung to each other tightly and Mitzi closed her eyes, swallowing tears. Gods, what if this was the last time she saw him? No. She couldn’t think that way. Taking her face in his hands, Zamiel stared at her with those huge blue eyes she’d come to love so much. “I love you, Mitzi,” he said. “I love you too.” He claimed her mouth in deep, tender kiss. That kiss, more than words, reminded her exactly how much he did love her. He was doing what he had to for their family’s future. Mitzi slid her hands through his hair and tugged him even closer, her tongue stroking his. Too quickly he broke the kiss. “I’ll see you soon,” she told him, her gaze fixed on his as she lifted her arms and summoned the raptor. Using her talons, she grasped Bo’s travel pack while Arno took Arla’s. Jindra, carrying Parker by his upper arms, ascended next. During the flight, they stopped to rest several times, mostly because Jindra was carrying the weight of another man. Mitzi had to admire his strength. Flying with an adult male over a short distance was difficult enough, but an extended flight was impressive. When they reached the car, Arno helped her secure the travel packs in the backseat. “We should stop for baby seats,” Parker suggested. “Not a bad idea,” Arno agreed.

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“And pray these nestlings don’t decide to change to their bird form when we’re in heavy traffic,” Jindra added. “Shit, we’d better not get pulled over by the cops or we’re in trouble.” “I’ll drive,” Parker said, getting behind the wheel. Jindra sat beside him in the passenger seat, giving Arno and Mitzi some privacy so they could say their goodbyes. Arno kissed the nestlings, then turned to Mitzi and held her tightly. “It will be all right,” he told her. “You be careful.” She took his face in her hands, holding his one-eyed gaze. He’d come so far from the mild trade manager she’d known. Though still sensitive and gentle, Arno now had an underlying toughness that told her Zamiel could find no better second. “I will. We’ll see you soon, Mitzi.” He took her hands in his and brushed her lips with a kiss. “I know.” She forced a smile. Squeezing his hands, she kissed him again, longer this time, then whispered against his lips, “I love you.” “I love you too.” He nodded, stepping backward slowly, holding her hand until only their fingertips touched. Then he turned and disappeared into the trees. Moments later, the beautiful gold Raptvyn rose high in the sky and flew off. Sighing deeply, Mitzi stepped into the car. Jindra glanced at her over his shoulder. “You okay?” “Yes. Thanks.” Parker started the car and they rolled out of hiding and onto the empty road. They took her to From Paws to Wings, where Newly sat in the reception area, busy on his computer. In his man form, he had light skin that carried just the hint of a golden tan, a longish nose and wickedly arched eyebrows over his piercing blue-gray eyes. Jindra quickly explained the situation. “I’d suggest keeping the nestlings here,” Jindra said, “since all the employees are shape shifters. However, since it is a place of business, if there is any kind of inspection by the human authorities, we’ll be in trouble. There’s no way we can explain a couple of baby Raptvyns.” “They’ll be fine at our house,” Parker said. “Sometimes they get noisy,” Mitzi said, a hint of worry in her voice. “How close are your neighbors and do you think they’d get suspicious?” While they talked, Newly slipped away. A short time later, he returned and joined them in the kitchen where they’d stopped for a meal. “I just spoke to Jesse. You and the nestlings are welcome to stay in our den,” said the Dusk Thief. “It’s hidden and perfectly safe from humans.”

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Mitzi exchanged glances with Jindra then turned to Newly. “Thank you very much, but won’t it be putting you out?” “If it was putting us out, we wouldn’t ask,” he said with his usual bluntness. “Newly, you never cease to amaze me,” Jindra said. “That’s actually a decent offer.” The Dusk Thief made an irate hissing sound in Jindra’s direction, then glanced at Mitzi. “When you’re finished eating, come get me. I’ll lead you to the den. Jesse is there with the kits.” A short time later, Mitzi sat with Jesse, sipping tea in the front room of the den. The kits and the nestlings played in separate, penned-off corners of the room. While there, they would need to be careful to keep the children away from each other. At such a young age, putting werewolf-Dusk Thief kits together with nestlings could end in disaster for the little avian shifters. When Mitzi had first stepped into the den, Jesse had greeted her in wolf form, a beautiful, yet frightening, sight. Covered in a shaggy brown pelt, her facial features elongated, she traveled as easily on four legs as on two. Thick ivory fangs glistened between her lips and her gray eyes seemed wilder than usual. Now that the initial shock had worn off, Mitzi relaxed completely in Jesse’s presence. Though she tried to keep the conversation lively, inside her stomach ached with worry. “Hey,” Jesse said. “If you want to talk about what’s happening with your mates, I’ll be glad to listen.” “Thanks, but I don’t think I can talk about it,” Mitzi sighed and took another sip of tea. Her throat ached so much she could scarcely swallow it. “I have the most awful feeling, Jesse. I don’t want to sound like a wimp, but I can’t help worrying. If Zamiel was in top form, I wouldn’t doubt he could take Ondro, but he was injured so badly during the ambush. What if he’s being overconfident in his abilities? Pride is important, but his life is far more important, at least to me. And what about Arno? If Zamiel loses, there’s no way Ondro will let Arno live.” “I can understand what you’re going through,” Jesse said. “Before Max and I mated permanently, he needed to be accepted by my pack and that meant being tested by them. That’s why I put him off for so long. A Dusk Thief fighting against werewolves shouldn’t have stood a chance. “I thought for sure he’d be killed, but he wanted me and our kits and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He didn’t doubt he could pass any test my pack put him through. Sometimes a person can do things that seem impossible. If Zamiel doesn’t truly believe he can win, do you think he’d go on a suicide mission? Do you really think he’d put his family at risk like that?” “No,” Mitzi said quietly. “But what if he’s wrong? You don’t know Zamiel. He can be arrogant beyond belief, and if Zamiel flew into hell, Arno would follow him without hesitation. My nestlings might lose both fathers over some stupid sense of honor.”

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“That’s exactly what I said to Max. To me, a mating ritual wasn’t nearly as important as having him safe. Men like Max and Zamiel aren’t like the rest of us. I think it’s some kind of brain defect.” Mitzi couldn’t help smiling a bit at Jesse’s joke. “It comes down to this, Mitzi, do you believe in your mates?” “Yes,” she stated. “I do. That’s why I never said a word of this to them before we parted.” “Whatever happens, you’ll be all right.” Jesse placed an arm around her. “Thanks for everything.” “What are friends for?”

***** For the next several days, Zamiel recuperated and Arno kept watch over him. Toni had to return to work but visited as often as he could. He reported some disturbing rumors from the Convocation Clearing. Word about the flock was that Ondro’s followers had been looking for Zamiel’s family, in particular Mitzi and the nestlings. Their decision to send them to the human world had been a good one. Now more than ever, both Zamiel and Arno wanted to see Ondro defeated. Arno spent much time training, preparing himself to stand as Zamiel’s second. Though he knew his life was also in danger, his main focus remained on Zamiel. This challenge would be among the most difficult of his mate’s life and Arno would suffer with him, at least emotionally, through every moment. The thought of seeing Zamiel killed by Ondro was almost too much to bear, yet Arno would stand by him until the end. What of Mitzi and the nestlings? He hated possibly leaving them alone, yet they deserved the chance to thrive out of Ondro’s menacing shadow. The two-day challenge finally arrived and the time passed quickly. According to Toni, no one, not even Milo, had challenged Ondro. No doubt Ondro had somehow threatened Milo and his loved ones as well. The Raptvyn Creed meant nothing to him. The flock knew it, yet for some reason, no one was willing to stand up to him. Now that Bobek had resigned, he could not change his mind and take back leadership. It seemed the fate of the flock did lie with Zamiel after all. Shortly before dusk on the last day of the two-day challenge, Zamiel prepared to meet Ondro in battle. Alone in the nest, he and Arno spoke little but were unable to tear their gazes from each other. Arno remained outwardly calm, but his heart raced and stomach clenched with anxiety. He admired Zamiel for appearing so calm and collected, but he was a warrior, accustomed to facing such danger.

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Only moments before they left the nest, when Zamiel took Arno in his arms and covered his mouth in a tender, passionate kiss, did Arno sense his mate’s emotional state. Concern, passion and, most of all, deep love. Clinging to Zamiel, memorizing the feel of his powerful body and the sensation of his warm, scarred flesh, he said a silent prayer for his safety. The kiss broke and they stared into each other’s eyes. “It’s time,” Zamiel said. Arno nodded and kissed him again, then said, “Go claim your flock.” Zamiel lifted his arms and shifted to the raptor. With a piercing cry, he ascended. Arno followed him, an indescribable feeling coursing through him as he beat his wings. When they reached the Convocation Clearing, dusk had settled in, turning the sky as red as the blood that was soon to flow. Zamiel swooped past the flock leader’s treetop shelter where Ondro stood with several guards and his male mate, Verner, a tall, slim chestnut-haired Raptvyn. Loud and fierce, Zamiel cawed the shriek of challenge. Landing in the Convocation Clearing among a crowd of murmuring flock members, Arno stared skyward. His heart pounded almost painfully in his chest and a tremor ran down his spine. This was it. Zamiel must have taken Ondro by surprise, because he didn’t answer the first shriek of challenge. Again Zamiel cawed, even louder and angrier. Ondro leapt from the treetop shelter and rose high above the clearing. He and Zamiel dove at each other, their talons poised for attack. Ondro was fresh, since no one had challenged him. He was a Raptvyn warrior at his physical peak, not to mention ten years younger than Zamiel. Yet Zamiel had the element of surprise on his side and Arno had never seen him more determined. Calling upon his exceptional skill and years of experience, he flew with grace and power. Desperate to hold onto flock leadership, Ondro fought just as ferociously. Even from such a distance, Arno’s keen vision saw deep gashes on the fighting Raptvyns. Blood soaked their feathers and flew from their curved beaks and savage talons. With every blow, Arno tensed, his muscles tight and pulse racing as if he was fighting right alongside his lover. He knew Zamiel wasn’t fully recovered and not at his best. Regardless of the outcome, this fight would take its toll on him. The warriors locked together, tumbling across the sky and nearly crashing through the trees before they broke apart. Ondro flew away quickly, Zamiel close behind. The younger Raptvyn turned suddenly, his talons slashing across Zamiel’s chest. Luckily, Zamiel pulled back quickly, avoiding the full impact of a potentially deadly blow. Their shrieks and caws echoed through the mountains and they continued diving and locking in flight. Their bodies entwined as they tore at each other with beak and talons, the pair dropped through the trees and landed hard in the center of the Convocation Clearing.

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Raptvyns sprang out of the way, giving the warriors room to battle. Arno stared in horror, wishing he could leap to Zamiel’s aid. He knew by their slowing movements that both Raptvyns had begun to tire. On Zamiel’s back, one of his worst injuries from the ambush, newly healed, had re-opened and bled into fresh wounds from Ondro’s talons and beak. Not that Ondro looked much better. Ondro drew back his head in an attempt to peck Zamiel’s eye, but Zamiel reacted even faster. His beak snapped on Ondro’s throat. Eyes wide with terror, Ondro dropped his hold on Zamiel, who finished the fight by twisting his talons that clung to Ondro’s ankles, snapping his legs. The younger Raptvyn would have screamed, if not for his throat injury. Zamiel dropped back onto his knees, his chest heaving. Screaming in rage, Verner dove out of the treetop shelter directly at Zamiel’s back, his talons poised to kill. Arno leapt, meeting him in midair. They rolled together in the sky, biting and clawing at one another. Concern for Zamiel and anger at Verner’s backstabbing overcame Arno so that he scarcely felt the pain of his opponent’s blows. Verner screeched and twisted his body, doing his best to attack Arno’s blind side, but Zamiel had trained him well. He shifted position and used his wings in defense while striking repeatedly with his talons. When he finally locked on his target, he tightened his leg muscles and twisted. Bone snapped, Verner shrieked and Arno dove toward the ground, dragging the injured Raptvyn with him. Toni and another healer had already approached Ondro and Zamiel. Toni’s assistant now squatted beside Verner who, in spite of his pain, looked toward his severely wounded mate and asked, “Is he—” “He’s alive,” said the healer working on Ondro. “Barely. He might pull through, but with those leg injuries, he’ll most likely be lame for the rest of his life.” Standing beside Zamiel, who had risen shakily to his feet, Arno asked, “Are you all right?” “I will be,” he replied breathlessly. He looked absolutely exhausted and deathly pale beneath the streaks of blood and dirt. Arno wondered how he was keeping to his feet. He placed a hand to the back of Arno’s neck and gazed deeply into his eyes, his look alone speaking of his love and gratitude. “We need to treat those wounds,” Toni stated. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Nodding, Zamiel took a step, then paused. Arno placed his arms around him and Zamiel leaned heavily against him for a moment. Noe stepped forward and cawed for silence, then said, “Zamiel has won the challenge. By the Creed, he is now our flock leader. Agreed?” The caws of acceptance were almost deafening and Arno couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips. “You did it,” he whispered to Zamiel. “I couldn’t have without you,” he whispered back.

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“Our new leader will need recovery time,” Noe continued and turned to Zamiel. “While you recuperate, who will act as your second?” “Arno has the flock. Until I take command, obey him as you would me,” Zamiel stated. Toni placed a supporting arm around Zamiel and said, “Now you need to get to my treetop shelter so I can treat you or else you won’t be leading anything.”

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Chapter Fifteen Mitzi sat in the den, babysitting the kits along with her nestlings since Newly had gone out on an emergency call to find a lost dog and Jesse needed to watch the From Paws to Wings office. She was surprised when Jesse rushed in, carrying a note on a slip of handmade paper. Raptvyn paper. Mitzi’s heart nearly leapt through her chest and her hands trembled as she took the message. “This came for you just a few minutes ago. The Raptvyn who brought it is waiting in the office.” Drawing a deep breath, Mitzi unfolded the parchment and read Arno’s message. She closed her eyes for a moment and said a prayer of thanks, unable to keep the laughter from bubbling up from her throat. “He won, Jesse!” She beamed and hugged the werewolf tightly. Jesse returned her embrace. “I’m so happy for you all. We’ve got to tell Jindra.” “I can hardly wait to see Zamiel and Arno again. Zamiel was hurt during the challenge, but he’ll be okay. Arno is acting leader until Zamiel recovers.” “I’ll call Jindra now so he can make arrangements to get you home.” “Thank you so much for everything, Jesse. You and Newly have been great. If there’s ever anything we can do—” “Don’t worry. We’ll ask.” Jesse smiled, then hurried off to contact Jindra. Mitzi turned to the nestlings and picked them up, kissing their cheeks. “Well, kids, we’ll be seeing your fathers soon.”

***** Early the next morning, Mitzi and the nestlings returned to Raptvyn country. Zamiel was at the nest recovering, Mathias watching over him while Arno attended flock business in the Convocation Clearing. Jindra flew out to greet him. “Welcome home,” Mathias said quietly, since Zamiel was asleep. While her blood father took the nestlings from their travel packs, Mitzi knelt beside Zamiel, longing to touch him, but not wishing to disturb him. Fresh talon marks crisscrossed his face, mingling with his older scars, yet to her he never looked more perfect. He was alive. He was the flock leader and he belonged to her and Arno. His eyes opened and he smiled. “Mitz. Come here.” He tugged her into his arms and they held each other tightly. “I love you so much, Zamiel.” “I love you too. Do you know how much I missed you?” 167

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“No more than I missed you.” “Where are the nestlings?” “Right here,” Mathias said, carrying Arla and Bo over and placing them beside their father. Zamiel caressed their ultra-soft feathers. “Is it me or have they grown this fast?” “That’s from eating with werewolves and Dusk Thieves.” Wrinkling his nose, Zamiel asked, “What?” “I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, just keep holding me.” “I never want to let you go.” A short time later, Arno swooped into the nest and changed to his man form. Panting from his fast flight, he hauled Mitzi into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” “You too.” She smiled. “I hear you’re a fantastic second.” “I don’t know about that, but I’m managing to keep it together.” “Better than managing,” Zamiel said. “I heard how a couple of Ondro’s followers in the guard tried to push you around the first day you took over. From what Noe and Bobek tell me, you were very convincing or, rather, your talons were.” “You taught me everything I know,” Arno said, stooping to pick up the nestlings. “Were you two good?” They cawed softly and fluttered their wings, staring at him with wide eyes. “I’ll be ready to take over tomorrow,” Zamiel said. “The day after,” Arno told him. “You don’t want to rush it, especially after that fight.” “What happened to Ondro? Arno said you left him alive?” “And crippled,” Mathias said. “He and his mates are remaining here until he recovers, then they’ll be moving to Carl’s flock. They’re not exactly popular here after how many threats Ondro and his followers made to those opposing him. Actually, we have quite a few guards who have been demoted and will need to start earning respect among the flock again.” “Speaking of the flock, I need to get back to the Convocation Clearing, but I’ll be home for dinner,” Arno said. He kissed his mates and the nestlings, then flew off. Mitzi drew a deep breath of fresh forest air and released it slowly. It felt so good to be home again.

***** Two days later, Zamiel flew to the Convocation Clearing and formally took leadership of the flock. He stood with his mates and his nestlings in his treetop shelter

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and cawed to the flock members who had gathered on the ground and in the trees to welcome him. Glancing from Arno to Mitzi, who each held a nestling, Zamiel couldn’t keep the proud smile from his lips. Once a rogue, now a mate, father and flock leader, he had finally found his place and the love he had always craved.

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About the Author Kate Hill is a thirty-something vegetarian New Englander who likes heroes with a touch of something wicked and wild. Her short fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history. Kate welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Kate Hill Ancient Blood: Cryptic Trysts Ancient Blood: Darkness Therein Ancient Blood: Deep Red Ancient Blood: God of the Grim Ancient Blood: Handsome Bastard Ancient Blood: Immaculate Ancient Blood: In Black Ancient Blood: Infernal Ancient Blood: Revenge of the Court Jester Ancient Blood: The Blood Doctor Ancient Blood: The Holiday Stalking By Honor Bound anthology Forever Midnight anthology Horsemen 1: Dream Stallion Horsemen 2: Captive Stallion Horsemen 3: Highland Stallion Horsemen 4: Winter Stallion Knights of the Ruby Order 1: Torn Knights of the Ruby Order 2: Crag Knights of the Ruby Order 3: Lock Knights of the Ruby Order 4: Mica Knights of the Ruby Order 5: Blaze Midnight Desires Moonlust Privateer Windswept

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