The Hummingbird's Gift (Hummingbird Tales Book 2)

by Reese Morrison

  Tier had never looked forward to a celebration more in his life. Not only had he missed Rohahen’s visit to his office today, but the man was actively blocking him from using his gift to determine his location.

  He kept prodding at the place where Rohahen should be in the web of connections that represented the tribe within his mind. It was like poking the sore where a rotten tooth had been removed. It hurt each time, but he couldn’t stop doing it.

  He hadn’t noticed how often he checked that link before. Whenever Rohahen was with him he was aware of exactly where he was and exactly how many steps it would take to reach him. Whenever Rohahen wasn’t with him, he was aware of him, too, their bond seeming to twist over itself and multiply as his awareness grew.

  He’d known, on the day of the abductions, when Rohahen left the tribal lands to visit Declan and Geir, pushing just past the edges of his range. That was an expected sort of fading out with distance, though. Not this cut connection.

  That was why he hadn’t known when Rohahen fell unconscious. He’d already been out of range, and by the time the missing children were discovered, hours had passed. It hurt just to think about.

  To have Rohahen blocking him now had him almost in a state of frenzy.

  He’d gone looking for Rohahen after the Council meeting, but wherever he went, he always seemed to just miss him.

  He had heard, reliably, that he was coming to the celebration, so he’d been waiting impatiently for it to begin even has he used half his attention to finish up his work.

  Now the tribe was celebrating the successful operation and the return of their children with dancing and endless food, their laughter and songs filling the plaza.

  He just wanted to find Rohahen and talk with him alone.

  He couldn’t get the whispered words of the kraken’s mate out of his head. The human had thought he was keeping a secret, but Tier—and all of the shifters who were with him—had heard him loud and clear.

  Knowing that Rohahen had a crush on him had already made his pulse leap and his chest grow warm. Then the human had mentioned dirty, sweet things, about how proud he was of the kraken’s rings of bruises and tiny scratches decorating his body. It came with the implication that Rohahen wanted Tier to do the same. Declan had not-so-subtly hinted at it a few more times in the van, too.

  The idea sent Tier’s blood rushing to his cock. If they had been doing anything less important than reclaiming the children of his tribe and tracking down the people who’d taken them, he would have dropped everything and run into the woods to find Rohahen himself.

  But the two extra days of chaos and careful negotiations had given him time to think and talk with the Council of Elders. Now he had a plan. Of a sort. If only Rohahen would listen to him.

  He poked around the gathering, always walking clockwise around the space. He greeted people and thanked them. He shared bits of news and got himself a plate of food. Mostly, he kept his eyes out for Rohahen.

  Tier spotted his grandfather, curled up on a bench with one of the toddlers. There were only six kids left now, three whose tribes were so far away that transportation was taking a little longer, and three who he couldn’t place. Nina, the eight-year-old who’d handled the whole situation with remarkable maturity, thought that one of babies might be from her own tribe, part of a family who lived on the outskirts. The other one was a mystery.

  This one was a small white boy, maybe two years old, who the tribe had started calling Mikinàkose. One of the heart-singers from an Ojibwe background had named him, and Tier believed it meant Moves Like a Turtle. It certainly described the sweet child, who was slow to move and quick to hide. If he couldn’t find a home and they kept him, he would get a new name to show his strength in surviving his ordeal and give him power for whatever he faced next.

  It would likely be Rohahen finding them all homes, of course. He was always at the metaphorical center of the tribe.

  He watched the unknown child for another moment, wondering what Rohahen would think of him. The boy looked content on the storyteller’s lap, his bright eyes watching the dancers with interest.

  Tier turned to watch them as well. He had danced ceremonially at the beginning of the evening, absorbed in the hypnotic steps as he put himself back into alignment. He had needed that time more than he realized, sinking into his role as a conduit between Mother Earth and Father Sky, feeling the roots and branches of the Sacred Tree anchored in his body.

  When the ceremony concluded, it only made him more aware of the lack of a mate at his side. That was what he really needed to keep in alignment, to lead the tribe from the past into the future while maintaining his own balance and connection.

  He drifted toward the dancers, who were now blasting modern music from a sound system. This wasn’t a traditional feast day, just a celebration of life and triumph, and his tribe was bringing the old into the new.

  He continued walking the circle, staying on the outskirts, and found himself next to Geir. He had been the tribe’s ally for hundreds of years and walked the earth for many centuries beyond that. He wanted to pay his respects and express his gratitude, but he’d interacted with the gruff man enough during that harrowing night to know that he wouldn’t appreciate any ceremony.

  He quietly thanked him instead and confirmed their alliance. “Chief Kahshennenhawe said that you were a member of the tribe, and that hasn’t changed.” She was his great-grandmother, and the cultural lore had been passed down. “If Declan is your mate, that makes him part of the tribe, too.”

  Geir was only half-listening to him, watching the dancers instead. No, watching one of the dancers. “My type doesn’t have mates like yours,” he grumbled.

  Tier considered this as he turned to the dancers.

  And there he was.

  Once he spotted Rohahen, he couldn’t look away. He was taller than most of the others, his body corded with muscle and his shirt covering that soft belly that Tier so often wanted to kiss and bite. His dark skin shone in the fire light, and his teeth glinted when he threw his head back and laughed at something Declan said to him.

  Tier wanted him like no one else. Rohahen balanced him. He always had. “Maybe my type doesn’t know too much about mates, either,” he finally replied.

  Then Declan started swaying against Rohahen, rubbing his lithe body against all of the muscles and planes and curves that Tier wanted to claim for his own.

  Tier lurched forward. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do, but he knew that he didn’t want anyone else touching Rohahen. The kraken grabbed his arm, stopping his motion.

  “He’s doing it on purpose,” the kraken rumbled.

  Tier didn’t have time for this. “What? Why is your mate touching my…?” Only he didn’t quite know how to finish the sentence. His what? His advisor? His friend? His mate?

  He was confused about everything except the need to get those slender white hands off Rohahen’s body. They were tracing his shoulders, running across his chest, caressing the curve of his belly…

  He heard Geir, as though from far away. “Why is he touching your mate? I think they’re trying to send you a message.”

  “What kind of message is that?” he snapped.

  Declan’s hand slipped lower, almost to the button of Rohahen’s jeans.

  “The message is that you’re supposed to jump in and claim him. Just be gentle with my… mate while you do. They’re playing a game to get our attention.”

  A game? That was a game?

  And then Declan looked Tier right in the eye, hand almost on Rohahen’s zipper, and winked.

  Alright, he could see that it was a game, but the game was over.

  He stormed into the circle of dancers, the unconscious command in his throat moving shifters out of his way before he even reached them.

  Rohahen turned to look at him, eyes wide and flashing between arousal and worry. He never wanted Rohahen to worry around him, even when he was the cause of all that concern.

  It was al
l getting to be too much. Rohahen’s sweat and pheromones stirred up by the dancing. The tribe all around him, watching him, waiting for his next move with all of their expectations and opinions and judgments.

  He’d hoped to do this in private. Have a quiet conversation like mature adults. Now he was making a spectacle of himself.

  Declan smirked and slipped his hand lower, grazing the zipper. Rohahen’s eyes were locked on Tier’s. What was he supposed to do? Rohahen should be his, and he didn’t know how to make that happen.

  Tier pressed a hand to Rohahen’s chest, feeling the sweaty warmth of his skin through his shirt. Declan pressed a kiss to Rohahen’s cheek, then floated away, laughing, into Geir’s arms. Tier was seething inside.

  Shift, he thought. He needed to shift. Everyone needed to shift.

  He used the softer form of the command, or so he hoped. The one that told his tribe what he wanted but still left them the autonomy to remove their clothes and say goodnight to youngsters who wouldn’t be staying out for a run or climb or flight through the woods.

  The harsher form of the command would have had them tearing through their clothes as the shift overcame them from outside.

  Shifting was part of every feast day, but usually not one that he would invoke until much later, and usually only after a short speech and a prayer.

  Tier tuned out everything around him, stripping off his own clothes and watching Rohahen hungrily as he took off his shirt. The hair on his chest was dark and curly, his nipples deep black buds.

  Rohahen looked at Tier’s naked body, then quickly looked away. Tier loved how shy he looked sometimes.

  He waited, breathless, as Rohahen kicked off his shoes, then took down his jeans and underwear all in one move that transformed seamlessly into a shift. A gorgeous coyote stood before him, tail tucked between his legs and head down in unhappy submission.

  What did that mean? Was Rohahen rebuffing Tier’s interest? Or wisely following his orders, perhaps saving them from the indignity of whatever he might have done to that luscious, naked body in front of him?

  Tier shifted, too. There was a moment of pain and disorientation as bones broke and muscles re-knit, and then he stood as a bobcat. Smells came to him like a symphony. His eyes adjusted, turned away from the fire, and picked out Rohahen’s bulky form. His sight was at its best in these dim conditions that let him focus on movement and contrast.

  He shook out his body in one long stretch from his head to his tail. In this shape, he was the size of a large house cat, with striped fur and large, triangular ears that picked up every sound.

  Rohahen’s coyote, the size of a dog, towered over him. In all of their forms, Rohahen was bigger than Tier. As a human, he was bigger than anyone in the tribe. Would that be awkward, with the way that Tier thought of him? As sweet and precious?

  He stepped forward with his front paw, inching toward the nervous coyote. Size was a human concern and his bobcat didn’t care. He just wanted Rohahen to feel comfortable again.

  He threw back his head and yowled, the tribe joining in with cheeps and howls and shrieks until their voices filled the night. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kayla flapping her wings and then taking off to sail over the houses and past the forest. Shifters followed her, scurrying and loping and fluttering in the twilight.

  Tier bumped against Rohahen’s muzzle with his head, twisting his neck around to get closer and extend the contact.

  Rohahen held still, his posture still subservient. Tier repeated the motion on the other side. Rohahen leaned into him and he pushed back. The coyote’s tail began to slowly wag, and Tier felt like he’d won a prize.

  He nipped a little at Rohahen’s flank, bounded a few feet away, and came back to repeat the process.

  Rohahen needed only one more invitation and then they took off toward the line of trees, side by side. They raced through the forest, Tier’s nose telling the stories of animals that had passed through, plants that were bitter and sweet, places that his tribe had been and trees that they had marked.

  When Rohahen tried to move away from him, he nipped at his heels and herded him back.

  The other shifters eventually scattered, some going off on their own hunts, and some chasing each other back home to warm beds and sleepy children.

  But Rohahen was his. As a bobcat, he knew this instinctively.

  Now that they were alone, he nipped playfully at Rohahen’s fluffy tail. Rohahen darted forward, looked back to check Tier’s body language, and then leapt ahead.

  Rohahen was fast, maybe one of the fastest carnivores in the tribe, and he led Tier on an enjoyably challenging chase. Every time that Tier thought he almost had him, he would slip to the side, or leap over some impossible object, or tumble over and come up behind Tier only to dart off in another direction. It was exhilarating.

  They raced into a grassy clearing and Rohahen surprised him again by stopping with a quick twist of his body. Tier overshot and then circled back. He growled and Rohahen immediately lowered his head and wagged his tail at a low angle in happy submission.

  Tier licked his snout, getting Rohahen to look up at him. Tier let his tail communicate for him, the high angle showing his dominance and the fluid, slow wag showing that he still wanted to play.

  Rohahen rushed him, rolling him onto his back. Though Rohahen was twice his weight, Tier used the momentum to carry them back up and pinned him. They wrestled like that, nipping at each other, twisting out of holds and then attacking again. They were well matched in competition, or maybe Rohahen was just letting him win. He felt joyful and free.

  He pinned Rohahen again, but instead of fighting back, Rohahen twisted to lick his teeth. It wasn’t a cat gesture, but he’d seen wolves and coyotes do it often enough to recognize it as a gesture of submission and affection. He opened his mouth, letting Rohahen in and confirming his dominance and approval. It was nothing like a human kiss, more like a hug or an arm around someone’s waist.

  It did make him think of kisses, though, and everything else he could do in his human form.

  He shifted on a thought, the brief ache and reshaping leaving him disoriented for a moment. When his new senses came back to him, his nose and ears were muted and his skin much more sensitive. Rohahen was already shifted and naked underneath him, his dark, smooth skin glistening in the moonlight.

  Tier kissed him hungrily, his flesh feeling alive everywhere that they touched. Rohahen was strong and soft in all the right places. Tier ground against him, their rapidly growing cocks rubbing together with a tender, desperate pleasure.

  Rohahen’s kisses were demanding and needy. He swallowed them up, their tongues tangling together. He gripped the back of Rohahen’s neck, tangling his hands in his hair and taking over the kiss. Rohahen relaxed beneath him, yielding control, just like he had always imagined.

  This was what he needed. Rohahen was everything he needed.

  He had meant to talk about this, to tell Rohahen everything that he meant to him, his hopes for their future, and the discussion with the Elders. But Rohahen’s mouth was too sweet, his moans too alluring, his cock too hard where it rubbed against Tier’s own. He might have been able to hold back if they were clothed, but naked he didn’t have a chance.

  He would just have to let Rohahen know how much he wanted him in other ways.

  He deepened the kiss, aligning their bodies together and rejoicing in every place where they touched. He was starved for the taste of his skin, ravenous to touch him everywhere.

  Rohahen pushed on his shoulder, and Tier turned to the side to give him space, to let him touch anywhere he wanted to touch.

  But Rohahen wasn’t caressing him, he was pushing again. Pushing him away.

  “Stop, wait,” Rohahen panted. “We have to…”

  Tier kissed him again and Rohahen clung to his shoulders, making the most beautiful whimpers.

  Then he pulled back sharply, repelling Tier with more force, though still not enough to actually dislodge him. “We have to
talk.” His chest heaved as he sucked in air. “You have to… I mean, I need to tell you…”

  Tier shook his head. He didn’t want to stop touching Rohahen, now that he finally had him in his arms. “I already asked the Elders about you. They said it’s OK. I’ll make the whole tribe understand.” Rohahen was his, now.

  “You did?”

  Rohahen looked so pleased that Tier had to give him another kiss. “I did. I told them that you balance me. That I want you to be my mate.”

  Rohahen leaned back into his embrace. Tier cupped his face, kissing his lips, his forehead, the salty liquid gathering at the corners of his eyes. “Don’t cry, beautiful. Unless they’re happy tears?”

  Rohahen nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again.

  Rohahen twisted out from under him, and he reluctantly let him go. Tier couldn’t ever remember fighting so hard just to move back a few inches.

  His mate arranged himself, legs crossed, on the ground. He was gorgeous in the moonlight. Tier settled onto the ground facing him, their knees just touching. Even that small press of skin was driving him to distraction. Especially since Rohahen was still so naked, with his delicious cock on display.

  But all of that was unimportant if Rohahen didn’t want this, too.

  Rohahen stared at the dark space between their crossed legs. “You might not want to make the tribe understand this. But I felt like I should tell you first. Even if it means...” he squeezed his eyes together, like he didn’t want to finish the sentence, “that you don’t want me anymore.”

  Tier’s mind raced, but he couldn’t think of anything that would deter him from his course. “There is a lot that I would accept if it means that you’re mine.” He rubbed Rohahen’s thighs soothingly. “Tell me now.”

  Rohahen looked up at the moon, like it would give him guidance. Maybe it would.

  Finally he spoke, his voice soft. “You know how some people are transgender?”

  Tier nodded. He didn’t know a lot, but he’d gotten the gist. Tier wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. Unless… “Are you saying that you want to be a woman?” That would… definitely change things. He couldn’t quite see it, but if it was what Rohahen needed, he supposed he would figure it out.