by Tasha Black
Suddenly, his movement stopped.
I opened my eyes, hoping we’d reached our goal. But there was no nest in sight.
The bear was gazing up to the thinner branches above.
A big, circular bundle of sticks rested on one of them.
“The nest,” I breathed.
But he didn’t move.
It took me a second to figure out the problem. He couldn’t go up any further. The branches would break under us.
Only one of us light enough to get up there.
Me.
“No,” I whispered.
But I already knew I would do it. I had seen that guy shoot the winter raven out of the air like it was nothing. I couldn’t let the Order of the Broken Blade threaten my friends, or my mate.
“Fine,” I whispered. “Stay under me, though. We both know I might fall.”
And though he couldn’t answer in words, I felt that same wash of warmth in my chest.
Cori Silverman, I will not let you fall.
It didn’t seem like it should be enough, but it was.
I managed to unlock my arms and grab onto the nearest branch.
29
Cori
My hands were shaking as I moved slowly from branch to thinning branch.
I knew Reed was below me waiting, ready to snatch me out of the air if I fell. But I couldn’t so much as glance down at him to be sure.
If I looked down at the ground, I knew I’d be petrified and freeze in place - too low to reach the nest and too high for Reed to reach me. We might be hanging out in this tree for the better part of a week before anyone found us.
So I kept my eyes on the nest above, and willed my heart not to beat through my chest.
The next branch I grabbed bent instantly, and I had to try a few before finding one that would support me.
All those meditations we had learned in class helped me to focus my mind on the task at hand, finding the next good branch and then the next one after that, staying close to the trunk for as long as I could.
By some miracle, or more likely by design, the ravens had built their sturdy nest in a crook between two of the larger branches in the canopy. When I reached it at last, I was able to crawl out slightly from the trunk.
My hands were sticky with sap. At least if I found a feather my shaking hands wouldn’t be able to drop it.
I belly crawled onto the lower limb and peered up into the nest.
It was a lovely thing, with rough sticks on the outside and soft moss on the inside. I could see some downy little tufts on the edges of the nest, but no real feathers - nothing you could turn into a quill.
To see any deeper inside, I would have to move closer and lift myself up off the branch.
The temptation to climb back down was almost overwhelming, but I had come this far.
In for a penny…
I held my breath as I eased my weight outward and pushed up.
The branch beneath me bent, but didn’t break. And the nest was lowered with that movement, so that suddenly instead of just seeing the edges, I could see the whole nest.
There were still no large feathers inside, much to my dismay.
But the nest wasn’t empty.
Two tiny, downy creatures sat in the center. They cheeped at me plaintively, their yellow beaks lifted high.
I gazed down at them, my heart broken as I realized that both their parents, possibly the only winter ravens in the world, were gone, and never coming back.
I knew nothing about raising hatchlings, but I couldn’t leave them here.
The nest was too big to carry, but maybe I could scoop the little ones up in my hand. Though there was no way I was getting back down to Reed one-handed.
I made the mistake of glancing down at him and felt immediately dizzy. The bear was far enough below to look small.
Breathe, Cori, breathe…
The chicks were still crying. I had to do something.
I eased myself back down onto the branch and pulled off my hooded cloak, then eased it back on backwards, so that the hood was in the front, like a bib.
When I raised myself up again, the babies began chirping at me. I took a deep breath and then scooped them up in my right hand.
They were so tiny they were almost weightless.
I lowered them into the hood of my cloak. They were cuddled together, but they didn’t look too unhappy. Hopefully, it would be warm and homey enough to get them back to the castle where someone could tell me what to do next.
The idea of going back down was much more frightening than climbing up had been. But I had no choice. I scooted backward on the branch, back toward the trunk.
“Don’t worry, little ones,” I crooned. “We just have to get to Reed, and he’ll get us all home okay.”
Reed gave a groan, as if to ask what I had said.
“Nothing,” I called to him. “There were babies in the nest. I’m bringing them with us.”
He groaned again, this time it had a complaining tone, but I was too busy trying to find a foothold to worry about it.
The descent seemed to take forever. I measured my progress branch by branch, taking care not to crush the chicks against my chest or the tree.
Suddenly something big and warm nudged my ankle. I fought back a scream, then realized it was Reed.
He made a low growling-chuffing sound of greeting that somehow made me think of cozy sweaters and nights by the fire.
I relaxed instantly and allowed him to slide his back under me.
“I can’t hold on as tightly this time,” I told him. “I don’t want to crush the babies.”
He turned his head to snuffle my chest.
The little birds cheeped at him, and he withdrew his snout indignantly.
I held back my surprised giggle.
“See,” I told him. “They need our help. Just get us back to the castle, and we’ll figure out what to do.”
He began to lumber down the tree as I held tight to his ruff. I hoped my iron grip didn’t hurt him, but he honestly didn’t seem to notice.
Finally, we reached the ground.
“Oh, thank God,” I said, sliding off his back and stretching my legs.
He looked on while I shook out the tension of the climb. Then instead of shifting back, he lowered himself again, as if urging me to climb back on.
“You don’t have to carry me,” I hedged. He must be tired too. Though I would have loved to ride…
He stayed down and eyed me intently.
“Okay, thank you,” I told him earnestly.
He held still while I climbed on, and then we walked across the meadow, back toward the ravine.
This time, he didn’t hesitate. He just took three big strides and launched us into the air. By the time I could even think to be worried, we were already safely on the other side.
The bear made a sound that was about as close to I told you so as a bear could make, and then we walked into the darkened forest, back toward the castle.
30
Cori
I didn’t have a watch, but it was clearly very late by the time we reached the castle. The windows were dark, and the moonlight was the only thing showing us the way home. I suspected we were in that gray area that could either be really late, or really early, depending on what side of it you were on.
Reed shifted back into his human form as we made our way through the boxwood labyrinth. As we stepped into the courtyard, we spotted a dark figure heading for the rear door of the castle.
“Hello,” Reed practically growled as stepped protectively in front of me.
“Oh,” said a surprised and familiar female voice.
“Kendall?” I asked.
“Hello, Cori,” she mumbled, looking pretty bummed out.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “I was… going to meet someone in town, but he never showed.”
I was impressed that she’d been honest. Kendall was normally the epitome of co
ol as a cucumber.
If I thought she was going to stick around for sympathy though, I was wrong. She turned on her heel began to march away. But before she got more than a few steps away, the wind picked up and the baby birds began chirping pitifully.
“What was that?” she asked, turning back and narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“We found some baby birds,” I told her.
She came back to look. “What are you going to do with them?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “And it’s too late to wake up Professor Waita.”
“They’re super cute,” she said. “Maybe Anya can help you. She’s really good with animals.”
“I’ll ask her in the morning,” I told her, as Reed held open the door to the castle for us.
We went silent when we entered. I wasn’t really sure if I could get in trouble for being out late, since I was technically supposed to be with my intended mate. But Kendall definitely wasn’t supposed to be wandering the hallways.
When we reached the top of the center stairs, she turned off toward her room and Reed and I continued toward the tower.
Either the chicks had fallen asleep, or they were respecting the implied rule of silence. I was just grateful that they weren’t announcing us. The last thing I wanted to do was wake anyone up.
My classmates might love to have some juicy gossip about me sneaking around at night with Reed instead of… accepting the bond. But I liked to keep my private life private.
It occurred to me that our time might actually be running out to seal the bond. We’d spent that first night putting out the fire, so there hadn’t been any real time for anything else. And then last night there had definitely been something else. I tried not to think about the way he’d touched me in the bath, for fear I would lose myself down that road and just throw myself at him in the stairwell.
I wasn’t sure if that first night counted or not, since the deal was three nights in his bed. But if it did, then tonight was night three, and it was quickly slipping away from us.
I made a mental note to ask him about it, as soon as we were far away from the sleeping witches of Primrose Academy.
“Come,” Reed whispered when we reached the tower door.
I turned to him and he scooped me up in his arms. Before I could argue, he was flying up the stairs with me, a wicked grin on his face.
“H-holy crap,” I said, when he set me on my feet in his room.
“You thought bears were slow and bumbling, didn’t you?” he teased.
“But you’re not in bear form,” I said. “And you’re not even out of breath.”
“It’s just one of the perks of being a shifter,” he said.
The corners of his beautiful mouth were ever so slightly upturned. He liked the compliment, even if he was shrugging it off.
I wondered vaguely how someone like Reed could ever be starved for compliments. He was strong, smart and wildly gorgeous.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Wondering what we can do for the babies,” I lied, looking down at the little creatures in my hood.
“Maybe we can make them some sort of nest,” he suggested.
“I wonder what we can feed them,” I said. “Do you think they’ll make it all night without food?”
“They would be asleep in the wild,” he assured me. “Let’s see what would make a good nest.”
We rummaged around his kitchen and found a mixing bowl that was only a little smaller than the nest where we’d found the babes.
Reed curled two of his t-shirts up and covered the bottom of the bowl with them, then spread another across the top to create a smooth surface.
“Do you think that’s okay?” he asked.
“It was just sticks and moss outside,” I said, shrugging. “It looks cozy to me.”
He watched as I carefully scooped the babies out of my hood and placed them onto the t-shirts. They cheeped sadly, like they didn’t want to be woken up.
“You’re okay, little ones,” I cooed.
After a moment they snuggled close and went promptly back to sleep, each one resting its head on the other’s downy body.
“We did it,” Reed said softly, looking down at the tiny birds.
I sighed and felt the fear and adrenaline slowly draining out of me, so that I realized I was bone tired.
“What a night,” I said softly.
“You were so brave,” he told me, his golden eyes solemn.
Suddenly, I wasn’t so sleepy anymore. Electricity danced between us, waking every cell in my body.
Reed reached out and caressed my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.
I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch.
“Cori,” he murmured against my lips.
I was melting, my whole body a sea of want.
Suddenly, he tensed and pulled away.
“Someone’s coming,” he growled, stalking toward the door.
I froze, watching him, and wondering who in the world would be on the tower stairs at this hour.
“It’s your friend,” he said after a moment, with a slight smile.
“Which friend?” I asked.
“The strange little one,” he replied as someone knocked.
He opened the door to reveal Anya waiting on the other side.
“Hey,” she said sheepishly. “Is Cori here?”
He gestured to where I stood by the counter with the bowl full of baby birds.
“Kendall told me you needed help with some baby birds,” Anya said, marching over and eyeing the metal mixing bowl suspiciously. “You have them in there?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said. “We put t-shirts in there to make it warmer.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not tossing them with some blue cheese and tomatoes,” she teased, taking a look at the babies. “They’re super cute. You did a great job with the shirts making it soft. But we need disposable bedding. Can you shred some fabric or paper that we can put under them for now?”
“Sure,” I said. “Reed can you sacrifice one more shirt? And do you have some scissors?”
“On it,” he said, disappearing into the alcove.
“He seems more… domesticated than last time I saw him,” Anya whispered to me.
“Weirdly, he was pretty domesticated from the beginning. When he’s in human form at least,” I said. “He just likes being a bear.”
“I feel that,” Anya said, nodding.
I smiled at the idea. Anya was so petite and delicate. I couldn’t picture her as a bear at all. Though maybe that was why she understood wanting to be a bear. I had always hated taking up so much space. But maybe if I were small and slender, I’d want to have a bigger presence.
Reed came back in and sat on his mattress with a couple of shirts.
Before I could ask if he needed scissors, he was tearing the thing to shreds with his bare hands.
“That’s a handy skill,” Anya said.
We watched him for a moment.
“Did Kendall wake you up?” I asked her.
“Not on purpose,” she replied. “But our room isn’t that big. And I think she was upset. She got stood up tonight by the guy she’s seeing.”
“Yeah, it sucks,” I said. “Have you met him?”
“As far as I know, no one has,” she told me quietly. “But up until now she seemed really happy about him. Hopefully, it was just a miscommunication or something.”
“I’m sure that’s it,” I said.
“Well, I guess I should let you guys get some rest,” Anya said. “Do you want me to take the birds for tonight?”
“Oh my gosh, do you want to?” I asked, feeling super relieved.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I love animals and these guys are amazing.”
I turned to see how Reed had made out with the bird bedding.
The big bear shifter was fast asleep, a pile of shredded t-shirts by his side.
“Oh wow, you wore him out,” An
ya said.
“Not the way you think,” I told her. “We were trying to get a feather from the winter raven to make the quill. But one of the Order got there first - stole one raven and killed the other. That’s why we had to take the babies. It was awful. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“Hey,” Anya said, placing her hand on my arm. “We’ll figure it out. Look on the bright side. You saved the babies, and you didn’t get yourselves killed.”
“You’re a really good friend, you know that?” I asked her.
She beamed at me.
I slipped over to the mattress and grabbed the shredded shirts.
Anya was already cradling the bowl in her arms, so I tucked the shreds into her pocket for her.
“See you in a bit,” she whispered as she slipped out.
It was only when the door closed behind her that I realized the pink light of dawn was already bleeding in the windows.
I crawled into bed next to Reed. It couldn’t hurt to get a few minutes of sleep before class.
He curled protectively around me without waking, and in spite of all our adventures and my worries, I felt myself drifting off to sleep almost immediately in the warmth of his arms.
31
Cori
Warm sunlight dappled the work stations in Professor Waita’s classroom, and I found my thoughts drifting back to Reed, as they had all day.
Waking up in his arms had been incredible. Wrenching myself out of them to run to classes hadn’t. We had slept through breakfast, so now my stomach was grumbling and I was feeling cranky from getting so little sleep.
But thinking about Reed lifted my spirits every time. And while we hadn’t sealed the bond last night, it felt like the adventure we’d had together was just as important. We had worked together, faced defeat and kept going.
I asked him about whether the first night counted or not, and he said he wasn’t sure, but it was probably best if we didn’t let a fourth night pass, just to be safe. It might be harder to seal the bond after that. Not that it wouldn’t be fun to try.
