The Bird on the Ground (M/M Romance) Monster Island: Book 2

Chapter 8 - Freefall

Yoryn had to leave shortly after. He wasn't supposed to leave his post at all, let alone for the entire hour he spent helping me with my wings. I had to practically shoo him back to work when he lingered. He kept looking at me with this weird look in his eyes. I tried my best not to think about it.

It took me way too long to admit to myself that I liked him, but he wasn't going to stay here forever. He was on a job, and eventually, his stay on the island would end. He'd be sent off to the mainland, and he'd move on to his next mission.

But if I asked him, would he stay?

I tried to squash that line of thinking immediately. We'd been living together for almost two weeks. That wasn't nearly enough time to ask someone to just abandon their job and move their entire life to an island that doesn't even have access to cable.

But I couldn't help but picture what things would be like if he did. He could stay with me. We would take turns making breakfast. On rainy days, we could stay in. He'd read those books on his tablet, the ones with the shirtless men on the covers that he didn't think I saw. I'd play video games with my feet in his lap, and we'd spend the day in companionable silence.

We could build an additional room for the treehouse, and we could add a door in so he'd have a sense of privacy. Or he could share my nest... I swallowed, pushing away the thought. But images of naked skin and red eyes, images of a warm body lounging among all the things I held close, flashed in my mind. I wanted him there, but I shouldn't. It was too soon. Was I lonely? Was I latching onto the first person I've ever shared space with? And if I was, that wouldn't be fair to Yoryn. He deserved someone who was sure about him, but the thought of him with someone else left an ashen taste in my mouth.

It doesn't matter. I'm assuming he even sees me that way. He wouldn't. Couldn't. What did I have to offer? A lonely treehouse, an irritable attitude, and a (probably) lackluster sex life? Wow, what a catch I am.

I ambled through the woods, lost in thought, warring with myself. The trees around me were thick, the ground covered in their shadows. The thick canopy protected me from the harsh rays of the sun, so it was pleasantly cool along the forest floor. The air smelled of rich soil, distant berries, something minty, and traces of magic.

Magic had a peculiar smell, and that smell depended on the kind of magic being done. Elijah's magic smelled like sex, but Siren magic, for instance, usually smelled salty like the sea. Of course, there were also scents specific to individuals, but those usually existed in addition to the smell of magic. They created new combinations when layered atop each other, creating more complex aromas. The air around me smelled wild like those sparkler fireworks you lit up for special occasions. But there was the hint of something rotten. Of something dead. Maybe some of the local werewolves have been hunting.

A breeze blew by, and I shuddered. I was nearing the treehouse. Just another few minutes of walking and I'd be home. Eager to curl up in my nest and nurse my one-sided feelings, I picked up my pace. But the air felt heavy around me, and I had the eerie sensation of being watched.

Something was wrong.

Something was in the air, a feeling, an energy. My heart started to thunder in my chest, and the sky darkened above me. Clouds rolling, thickening. Where they were once white and fluffy and far away, the clouds were now thick and gray and menacing.

I'd only ever seen magic change the weather that quickly. Was a Harpy doing this? But why? And where were they?

Something moved behind me. A blur out of the corner of my eye. A shadow. I stopped and turned. There was nothing there, but something was lingering out of the corner of my eye. Something that knew to stay exactly where I couldn't see it. A harsh wind swept through, ruffling the leaves on the trees. The branches batted against each other noisily.