Excellent.
I take off for the human hive, beating my wings as quickly as possible. I need to go fast, because not only must I outrun my rivals, but the ravens that live in my thoughts, as well. Even now, I feel them waiting, ready to destroy my mind. They will close in again all too soon, so I must be ready. I focus on my female, my mate. I do everything for her.
The human hive feels as if it is an endless flight away, and before I even get close, I hear an annoying sound rising in the air. A faint stir of memories tells me that this loud sound also happened when I snatched my mate. It is a warning of some kind, then.
Destroy it, the ravens whisper. Destroy everything. Burn the hive to the ground. You have what you need.
Fire licks at my tongue, and my claws curl with the need to hurt, to maim, to destroy. It will please the ravens. I circle around, contemplating. The stink here is ten times worse than anything I have ever experienced, and it makes my head itch. It feels as if my thoughts are full of birds, all angry and fighting to get out. They grow stronger by the moment, and I can feel them pecking at my eyes. I am going to fail my mate.
My mate.
Just like that, the birds scatter from my mind, and I can think somewhat clearly. I glide over the hive, high enough to see the humans scurrying into hiding. This is not going to help my task. I need them out and about, acting like normal humans. They’ll never do so as long as a dragon is flying overhead.
I should change into my two-legged form.
The moment it crosses my thoughts, I realize I’ve forgotten entirely that I have a two-legged form. It has been so long since I have been anything but in my battle form, and suddenly my skin itches with the need to transform. I will be vulnerable if I do, but only if they catch me.
I will just not allow myself to be caught, then.
I fly a short distance away and land on a flat area. My wings beat slowly as my claws click on the smooth surface, leaves blowing about. I crouch low, and then I try to remember how to shift to my two-legged form.
A moment later, I am staring down at my hands, flat on the ground. Human-like hands. I get to my feet slowly, flexing as I rediscover the feel of my two-legged form. My balance is different like this, and I feel a great deal lower to the ground, but it is not a bad way to be. My head is quieter, and that is nice. I curl my hand, gazing down at the talons tipping each finger. So similar to the human form, but still deadly. Humans seem to be soft all over.
My mate. She is soft all over, too. I growl low in my throat, pleased at the thought, and turn, looking for the human hive.
It is there, distant, the strange barricade stinking of fire and metal. I walk purposefully in that direction, though it takes quite a bit longer to travel in two-legged form than battle form. I had to land a fair distance away to make the humans think I had left the area. Even now, the siren blares a warning that makes me grit my teeth.
By the time I get to the barricade, the jarring sound of the siren is gone, and I can hear the low murmur of humans once more. The scents of the hive are overwhelming this close—fire and waste and sweat and skin and meat and— I shake my head to clear it. No sense in picking out each one. Best to ignore them all. I take a deep breath through my mouth and begin to climb the barricade. My claws make it easy to find purchase, and within moments, I have scaled the top of the shaky, teetering wall. I crouch low so the humans do not see me, and wait.
It does not take me long to realize that most humans are stupid. Once their sirens cease, they crawl out of their houses, laughing and talking that loud, strange gibberish. Cookfires are started again, and within a short span of time, the hive buzzes with activity once more. If they realized that a dragon yet watched them, they would probably be less boisterous and more reserved.
I watch as a human wanders near. It smells female, but it is small, much smaller than my female. An adolescent, then. The little one skips to the nearest fire, where a male stands, stirring something that smells like roasted flesh. He smiles at the tiny female, chatters something, and then picks up a round thing and fills it with the roasted flesh, then hands it to her.
Food. Of course. My mate is probably hungry. I should feed her when I return. Eating is instinctual in battle form, but of course I must remember to feed my human. She cannot leave the nest and will need me to care for her.
The thought fills me with fierce pleasure and pride. To think that I will be feeding my mate. Mine. I have waited for her for so long…
A female wanders into view. This one is adult, and she smells…different than my mate. Unwashed and sweaty and carries the stink of other males on her. My lips curl at her stink. She saunters toward the male at the fire, watching with interest as he stirs. The male looks up and gives her a stare, then says something. She points at his meat over the fire and then gives her hips a little wiggle. He grins and leans in, pressing his face to hers. A moment later, he gives her a bowl, and she eats quickly. Then they both glance around, whispering, and move behind a pile of debris. As I watch, the male throws the female’s strange clothing up and pushes into her from behind. Faintly, I can pick up the sounds—and scents—of rutting.
The ravens peck at my mind, but I push them back. Not now. I am trying to make sense of the human actions.
I am confused by them. The female did not challenge the male. She did not turn a mating color. She did not wait for him to subdue her or to dominate her. She laughed and chattered at him, and even now chatters as he grunts and pushes into her. I have seen no mating signs, yet they are undoubtedly mating.
I think about the way they pushed their faces together. Is…is that a human mating sign? I think of Kael and his human mate, trying to recall if they shoved their faces together, but my thoughts are blurry. I focus on the thought of my mate again, with her soft brown eyes and the tangle of her hair.
Perhaps taking care of the human female by feeding her is enough to bring her into heat? The thought fills me with excitement, and I fling myself back down off the barricade, hopping to the ground on the far side. I have seen enough of these humans and their smelly hive. It is time for me to return to my nest.
To my human.
I shall feed her, and care for her, and then wait for her to press her face to mine in her mating signal.
Of course, now I need something with which to feed her. I think of the humans and their pot of flesh.
Hmm.
4
SASHA
I. can’t. breathe.
Or I suppose I can. I just don’t want to.