by T. S. Joyce
What lay in his yard didn’t make any sense in the split second he allowed himself to kneel there. It was a body.
Krome scanned the sky but didn’t see anything, scanned the woods, but still…nothing. He approached slowly, dread filling the pit of his stomach. He knew. He recognized the crest tattooed on the back of that arm.
Please be alive.
He turned Bron’s body over and his third looked up at him with pain written across his face. He was clawed and pecked from head to toe. He rambled. “I tried…stop them…all of them…tried to get to you…to tell you…”
“Shhhh,” Krome whispered, leaning closer to him as he cradled his body. Bron was hurt. It was bad. There was so much blood and he wasn’t moving his body. How far had they dropped him? He scanned the sky again, but nothing. “Slower, Bron. What happened?”
Bron swallowed audibly, and then on the wisp of a breath, he uttered, “They’re coming.”
Fury unfurled in Krome’s chest, reaching for every cell, every nerve ending. It spread to his arms and then his back, and his shoulder blades tingled for the change.
Bron’s eyes rolled back in his head. Shit.
The roaring in Krome’s ears was deafening as he pulled the body of his friend from the crater he’d made in the earth with his fall. Krome stepped out of it and carried Bron to the house, settled him inside, and returned. He closed the door behind him, knowing damn well what he would find on the edge of his woods.
Laken stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, his hair fallen down in front of his face.
“Bron was your friend,” Krome said. “You want the throne? You are supposed to protect your people.”
“Bron was always your people. Blind to what’s best for this Murder. He had the choice to step back, and he didn’t.”
Behind Laken, Donovan, Archer, and Knock emerged from the trees.
They weren’t here to witness. They’d already chosen a side. This wasn’t a challenge. It was a takeover regardless of the winner.
Krome huffed out a hollow laugh. He could use the sting, could use the anger. “You have no honor.”
Laken pulled his lips back in an empty smile. “You speak of honor like it’s some great thing. For years we’ve followed all the rules, and where did that get us? Huh? The bears didn’t follow the rules, and look what happened. It got us hurt. Honor is for the weak, Krome.”
Krome knew he would move before Laken flinched a muscle. He knew his tells. He knew all of their tells. Laken thought he was weak, but did he realize how good Krome was at studying them? Laken’s left eye always flinched before he morphed.
Krome disappeared just as Laken did, and when his second landed near him, fist driving forward to hit Krome in the face, Krome was already behind him. Krome kicked him in the back and Laken pitched forward, crashing through the porch stairs. The sound of his body breaking that wood was so satisfying. For Bron.
“Try again,” Krome growled.
Laken’s fury filled the air with a bitter scent, and he morphed again. Krome was ready and wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He appeared behind Donovan and dragged a thumb across his throat before the Crow Blooded could move. And then Krome disappeared again, reappeared in the branch right over Knock’s head, morphed again, trailing thick black smoke as Laken chased him. Miss, miss, miss.
Krome appeared in front of Archer, but he was ready. Good. He was mid-swing when Krome ducked out of the way and blasted his fist against Archer’s face. He yanked his shirt and hurled him at the tree. Archer shifted to his crow and flapped his wings to avoid it.
Laken appeared in front of him, but Krome dropped down and slammed his leg against Laken’s, clipping him off balance. He wrapped his thighs around his second’s torso and spun, flipping him over and over until they slammed onto the ground.
Laken changed into his crow and Krome let the crow have his body. Only it didn’t work like it was supposed to. His massive wings ripped from his body, but the crow didn’t emerge. Only the wings. Shhhhhit.
There would be no fight in the air. Archer dove for him, and Knock and Donovan followed. Laken ducked in and out, shifting forms in that cloud of thick purple smoke as Krome let his mind go. He existed on instinct as he ducked and lashed out. He hooked Donovan’s neck, but the asshole turned to his crow before Krome could slam him to the ground. Pain slashed through him as he tried to change again, but the crow was stuck inside of him. God, it hurt.
Change!
He lost all sense of time as he fought the four free changing Crow Blooded. They were aiming to kill. To bleed him. Slash, slash, slash. The air smelled like wet pennies. He spun out of Knock’s reach and reached into the smoke, grabbed Donovan by the throat and slammed him into a tree, and a fist blasted across his face before he could recover. He dodged another, only to be slashed by talons across his cheek. How long did they fight like this? The woods were filled with smoke, and the rain was pelting down now. The snow was a painting of red, and pain was his companion here.
No honor. They fought with no honor. Laken’s laughter echoed through the woods, and above them, the sky darkened.
The crowing filled his head as he struggled to keep his focus on the fight. Four on one, and he was good at this. Good at letting his body react. At hurting them. At defending.
At least Cora was okay. At least she was far away from this.
“Krome!”
He jerked his head toward the south, where Auxor’s cabin was nestled two mountains over. He hadn’t heard her with his ears. He’d heard her on his insides, and the terror in her voice rattled around in his mind, echoing, growing louder and softer.
A fist landed across his face and Krome flew backward, caught himself in midair, and then pushed off the tree he was catapulted into. He flapped his wings as Laken came for him, and the crow shot backward through the woods with the wind he created. Change! He had to get to Cora! Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Change!
He leapt off the ground and pushed his wings, beat them downward, but he was too heavy in this form. Too dense. Fuck!
He slammed back to earth, dodged a crow, morphed backward, and ran for a towering live oak, flapping his wings to push himself faster. A dozen crows dove for him. This wasn’t a challenge. It was an assassination.
Cora. Cora, Cora, Cora. The fear in her voice had gutted him.
He leapt for the low branches and gripped them, ripped himself upward, used his legs to jump off those. Up, up he went until he could see sky, and he stretched his wings as far as he could and flapped them as hard as he could on the last jump. He was clumsy, and couldn’t gain altitude, but he could unsteadily keep above the tree line. His wings were on fire. A crow catapulted into him and knocked him sideways. He lost a beat of his wings and hit the top of a tree, spun to the side and yelled in pain as he struggled to stay airborne. Change, crow! For fuck’s sake, change!
A surge of crows flew up from beneath him and gripped his arms and wings. They dragged him upward with a force he couldn’t overcome.
They were going to drop him like they’d done to Bron.
His stomach dipped as they dragged him higher and higher into the air. He ripped at them, but as soon as he would rid himself of one parasite, another would take its place. Rain pelted his face as he struggled.
And then she was there.
Krome stilled the second he saw Cora. The Murder had her. They were dragging her into the air right along with him.
No. No, no, no, no fuck. His heart filled his throat.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Cora was good. She was good, and it wasn’t fair.
Tears stained her cheeks. She was struggling. Her maroon sweater would hide the cuts those talons made on her perfect skin. Pretty girl. Good girl. Too good to die like this.
“Cora!” he yelled as the crows slowed. The earth was far beneath them now.
“Krome, help me!” she screamed, her legs flailing.
“Look at me,” he told her.
“It’s okay.”
Her face crumpled and she shook her head. Smart girl. Nothing was okay.
They dropped her first. She screamed as she fell, her eyes on him. The crows released him, and he dove for her immediately. Flapped his wings in desperation to reach her. He grabbed her arms and pulled her against his chest. “I’m going to make it all right.” He was going to turn at the last second and shield her body from the impact with his own.
“Don’t do it, Krome. My dad did it and I didn’t want to live. Don’t do it.”
He hugged her tight against him as he flapped his wings in desperation. He was barely slowing them now. They were too heavy.
“Please,” she pleaded, clutching onto him. “Don’t leave like that.” Her sobs hitched in her throat. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
He looked at the earth, getting closer and closer. He closed his eyes and pulled his wings in. The pain was excruciating, but he had to try. “Cora, I love you,” he murmured.
The house was getting bigger. Only seconds left now.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
And as the last word left her lips, his body shattered inward.
Pain ripped through every nerve ending in his body, and time slowed as the crow exploded out of his skin. He had no time to be gentle, and he was sorry for it. He dug his talons into her arms and beat his wings harder than he ever had. Maybe he would rebreak them, but who cared? What good was the sky if he didn’t have Cora? She was bigger than the sky to him now.
He strained, pumping the air currents with his powerful wings, and slowed their momentum as much as he could before they hit the ground. She rolled, and he hit the ground and changed back. He braced against the snow and dragged his hands through it as he rocked to a stop in front of Cora.
The crows were landing in the tree closest to Krome’s house, and Laken stood on the edge of the woods, shock written all over his face.
Krome glanced behind him.
Cora laid there in the snow on her side, propped up on her elbow. She looked shocked. “I’m okay.”
Krome offered Laken a smile. “You’re so fucked now.”
Because he understood the power of the mating bond. It pulsed through him and made Krome stronger, faster. She loved him. She’d said the words and now he got it. He understood why Moore had taken the sky from him when he’d gone after the bear’s mate. Devotion did that to monsters like them.
The crows were coming. All at once, they were coming, but they seemed so slow to Krome. He morphed toward Laken. The left eye twitch came too late. Krome was already to him. He changed seamlessly and slashed his talons along Laken’s jaw. Krome was changed back to his human form, hooking an arm around Laken’s throat before he could turn crow. Laken hit the tree behind him with the force of a tornado. The crows had reached them, but Krome was ready. He could see clearer, react faster, morph better, and change back and forth as easy as breathing. The crows fell around him, but he always kept the pressure on Laken. He wouldn’t get away. If there was pain, Krome didn’t feel it as he fought the entire damn Murder for what they’d done. Laken was slowing. He was hurting. He was stumbling and slow to change. He was out of smoke, grunting with pain every time Krome’s fist or talons found him. And when he changed into his crow again, Krome was ready. He ripped Laken’s wings off.
It wasn’t hard to do. It didn’t make him sick to his stomach.
Laken’s caw became the scream of a man as he changed into his human form. Long bleeding gashes trailed down his shoulder blades where Krome had taken his wings, and he writhed in the snow, eyes fevered with pain.
The crows fell silent and landed in the snow around them.
Krome knelt down beside Laken and canted his head. Cora was behind him—he could feel her. Was that part of the mating bond? This awareness? He liked it.
“You wanted her death to be on me, didn’t you?” Krome asked. “You couldn’t just kill me, you had to let me die knowing I couldn’t save her.”
Laken made an awful pained sound. “Finish me.”
“Nah. You didn’t show mercy to Bron. You didn’t show it to Cora or to me. Fuck the rules, right, Laken?” Krome leaned closer and whispered, “You’ll never feel the sky again.” He stood and addressed the crows. “I am king. I never stopped being king. All you had to do was stay loyal, and I would’ve kept you safe.” Cora slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed it. Brave girl. “My queen and I feel you don’t make the cut anymore. Each and every one of you are banished from our territory as I build a new Murder. Return, and I will rip every one of your goddamn wings off, one-by-one.” Krome sneered at Laken. “Take your hero with you.”
Archer and Donovan changed back into their human forms, picked Laken up by the arms, and dragged his bleeding body away.
He could feel the shame roiling off of them in waves, but fuck them. He would never forgive or forget them dropping Cora from the clouds and watching her plummet to the earth.
The woods emptied quickly, and when he felt they were alone, Krome turned to Cora and checked her over. She was cut up, but she would be okay. Both of her arms had deep talon marks from him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he pushed the damp sweater material to the side to see the cuts better. “They’ll scar.”
Her eyes were rimmed with tears, and it gutted him. He didn’t like when she was hurt. He wanted to take every ounce of her pain away.
“It’s okay. They’ll remind me of what you did to save me.”
The door to the house creaked open, and Bron sagged against the open door frame. “You look like shit,” he enlightened Krome.
He snorted. “Speak for yourself.” Bron was pale as a ghost and looked like hamburger meat. One of his arms hung limply on one side, and with the other, he gripped his stomach. But he smiled, and that counted for a helluva lot right now.
Relief flooded him. Cora was okay. Bron would be okay.
The sound of a truck engine disrupted the quiet of his woods. Slowly, he eased Cora behind him and faced the road, ready.
Auxor’s tow truck ghosted over the ridge, followed by Brick’s truck.
They parked, and Auxor got out. And then Brick got out from behind the wheel of his.
“You here to finish us off?” Krome asked.
The passenger’s side door of Brick’s truck opened, and his nightmare got out. Moore Bane’s ice gray eyes bore right into Krome’s soul. “Actually, we came to see if you needed any help.” He slid a feral glance to the crow bodies that adorned Krome’s woods. “Looks like we missed the fun.”
“Why would you help me?” Krome asked.
Moore pointed to Cora. “She proves you have a heart after all.”
The wind kicked up, and Krome pulled Cora against his side. And as he stood there in silence, existing for once without a war between the Crow Blooded and the Banes, he felt the tide of his life shifting.
Perhaps Cora had been right. Perhaps the great war in the prophesy had already been fought. Or maybe not, but he knew one thing.
He wasn’t really interested in what Fate had in store for him.
Maybe this time he would do things differently.
Maybe this time, he would build a Murder for loyalty, and not war, like his mother had always wanted.
Maybe this time he would do something no other Crow Blooded king had done.
“If I build a Murder to help you keep from killing, instead of waiting for you to, would you offer me something in return?” he asked the Banes.
They each looked at each other and then Auxor asked, “And what’s that?”
“Protection while I build.”
“An alliance?” Bricken asked.
Cora was looking up at Krome with pride in her eyes. She was all cut up, looking like a warrior, and God only knew what he looked like right now, but that pride in her eyes? He would do it all over, just the same way, for this.
“Yes,” she murmured, and then dragged her attention to the Banes, and lifted her chin higher into th
e air. “We want an alliance.”
We. She wasn’t leaving. She wasn’t running. A ‘we’ existed still.
This was Cora locking her legs against the storm and declaring her place beside him.
In one day, Krome had lost everything, and found everything, all at once.
An alliance with the bears.
The power of four mating bonds.
A human as his queen.
Fuck all the rules.
And heaven help anyone who came for him during the rebuild.
He wasn’t his father, and he wouldn’t fight his father’s war.
He was going to try for peace on his terms instead. For Cora.
She was good. She cared. She healed.
Cora was his sky, and she deserved a peaceful throne.
Epilogue
“Don’t look,” Krome told her.
“I can’t see anything through your giant hands,” Cora said with a laugh as she stumbled sideways.
Krome steadied her and turned her slightly, and then asked her, “Are you ready?”
Today was their four-month anniversary, and Krome had told her to set her entire evening aside. What he didn’t know is that she had surprises for him, too.
She felt his lips on the top of her head, and then he slipped his arms around her chest and murmured against her ear, “Open your eyes.”
Cora eased them open and gasped at what she saw.
He’d built her a sprawling walk-in aviary. It took up the entire side of the house and more.
“Krome,” she whispered in reverence as she put her hands over her mouth in shock. “You did this?”
He was watching her face with a soft smile curving up his lips, like her reaction was important. Krome nodded. “Now you can bring the birds up. You love your birds.”
She had six that she hadn’t been able to rehab in her clinic back in Boise. And over the last few months as she’d set up her own clinic here, her mom had been taking care of her birds. She’d missed them so much.
“They’ll make you happy when they’re here,” he said.
“Very very happy. This is the most thoughtful present anyone has ever given me. Besides this.” She gripped the pendant of the necklace he’d given her months ago. She always wore it.
