Ravenlight (The Ravenlight Cycles Book 1) Page 5

  Revan laid an arm across my shoulders. “Imala…”

  “No, Revan. I can speak for myself.” Lifting myself from the rock, I stalked to the shorter woman. “I’m grateful for your help, but I never asked for it.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she caressed the hanging blade.

  “Revan told me of your brother’s death, and I’m truly sorry. If I could erase that day, I would.”

  “As would I.” Tilting her head to the star-filled sky, she spoke several foreign words. The tone and inflection carried through the night like a gentle prayer.

  “But I won’t let you guilt trip me into something I couldn’t control.” Shifting my feet, I squared my shoulders.

  “No.” Her small, heart-shaped face met mine. “You are correct. But his sacrifice allowed you to live. Something must be offered to the spirits in exchange.” She eyed Revan, who watched us with a mixture of curiosity and alarm.

  “No. I will not ask that of her.” He stood and his large frame prowled to loom over his sister. “And it is not your place to ask.”

  “Ask me what?” Her words piqued my interest and tamped down the annoyance of accusation. Of course, it sickened me, knowing I’d crushed him when I’d landed, but I’d been an unconscious, hurt child.

  “Nothing, Sophie. She is just crazy from eating too many bugs.”

  Imala shook her head. “You can repay the debt by freeing this irritating, big-hearted brother of mine.” With a quick crouch, she reached toward the platter on the rock. Grabbing the spoon, she stirred the boiling water in the pot with vigor. “I’m sick to death of hearing his heartsick squawks every minute of every day, lamenting his bird form, unable to stroke and kiss his human because—”

  “Shut up,” he hissed, eyes looking anywhere but at me. A scarlet flush crawled up his neck.

  Her deep, throaty laugh rang through the air, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

  I couldn’t hide a small grin or ignore the burst of pleasure zooming through my veins. Refocusing, I wedged myself between the two of them. “Are you talking about breaking the curse?”

  She froze for a moment, then nodded once. “Yes.” The spoon pointed my way. “And you have backbone, which is good, because it will require endurance.”

  “And possible death, Imala.” Revan’s voice rose, the words gritting between his teeth. “I will not ask this of her.”

  “No. Of course you won’t, but I will.”

  “Woman—” He grabbed her upper arm.

  “I’ll do it.” The words rushed from me before I had time to think. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was signing up for but I found I sincerely enjoyed this human version of Revan. Something about him called to me. Unsure if it was his soul or my overzealous imagination, the thought of him trapped as a bird for hundreds of years was unimaginable. His life must be a living hell.

  “What do I need to do?” I breathed out, thrills of excitement and terror shivering through my body.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Pecos “Revan” Chogan

  One beat of my heart and it shriveled, imagining my Sophie putting her life on the line for me, yet the next thump caused it to swell with affection and pride. My little human really had grown brave and true. Pride lifted my spirit. But still, this was a great risk to her life, even though hope stirred at the thought of being free to live as a human once more.

  “What would I need to do?” Sophie asked my sister with an intensity on her face I’d never seen before.

  I laid a palm on her shoulder and faced her. “I will not let you make this decision on a spur of the moment whim.”

  “Revan.” She slid her smaller fingers around my wrist and rubbed the inner skin with a thumb. “It’s my decision to make—not yours.”

  She was right, of course, but I wasn’t relinquishing. “It will require you to enter the spirit realm.”

  “That’s it?” A curved eyebrow rose. “Just go to sleep and dream?”

  “It’s more than that.” I gave her shoulders a small shake, peering into her eyes as if I could convey the danger of what it entailed. “When you enter, the spirits of the dead will try to capture your soul. If you do not pass their tests, they will keep it as your sacrifice and the body will die.”

  “I see.” Sophie licked her lips and moved her hands to her hips. “And what happens when I succeed?”

  “Then”—Imala inserted herself between us—“Revan will be free to remain human for the rest of his life, cleansing his debt to those who perished with your offering.”

  “Excuse us, dear sister.” Glaring at my sister, I slipped an arm around Sophie and steered her to the edge of the forest.

  “What’re we doing?” She spied the campfire then faced me, her eyes guarded.

  “Here.” Leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree, I raised a hand, palm outstretched, pulling her hand flush against mine.

  Several clouds floated across the sky and hid the moon’s light, creating gray mottled shapes that danced on her glowing skin, a flowing pattern highlighting and contrasting her beautiful face. Shadows appeared and faded under her eyelashes, and the pulse in her neck thumped wildly.

  “Do you feel my fingers on yours?”

  “Of course, but I don’t see—”

  Using the index finger of my other hand, I laid it against her lips. “That is the problem. You rely on your sight too much.” I nudged my chin in her direction and shut my eyelids, trusting she would, too. “Close your eyes.”

  When I thought enough time had passed, I peeked from beneath my lashes.

  Her eyes were shut, but a furrow created a line between her brows.

  “Feel my skin against yours, how the bones underneath our flesh push in resistance, yet in some areas they seem to mold together—as if seeking out one another.” I laced my fingers between hers. “Below, the grass and leaves connect us to the Earth. Listen to the song of the forest, the song of life, the song of the night. It whispers through the trees and in the beat of blood rushing in our veins.”

  “Yes.” She gave my hand a soft squeeze. “I think I can hear and feel it.”

  “It is life, no matter what form—bird or man. Or woman.”

  “Revan—”

  “Shh.” I opened my eyes. “You are so young and have much life ahead. As much as I’d prefer to be free, I cannot ask this of you.”

  “Well.” One small step led her closer to my body. She bit her bottom lip and rubbed her upper arm. “You aren’t asking—I’m offering.”

  I opened my mouth to speak.

  Her eyes flashed. “No, that’s not right. I’m giving.” Tipping her chin to stare at my face, she cupped my cheek. “You, of all people, know how hard it is for me to be around others, to let them in after that day. Let me repay the debt I owe.”

  “It’s not a debt in my eyes. I chose to save you without any expectations.”

  “Good.” Her hand patted my cheek. “Then I’m glad we understand one another.” She pivoted and headed toward Imala, who sat on her rock, whittling something from a wooden branch.

  “Huh?” My mind whirled. What just happened?

  “I’m choosing to give you a gift without any expectations.” With a sweet smile thrown over her shoulder, she joined my sister.

  “Brother.” Imala’s stern gaze met mine. “Do not throw the offering into her face.”

  I held my hands skyward in surrender and clenched my jaw. “I knew it was a bad idea to show myself.” With a sigh, I lowered to the earth and crossed my legs, staring into the crackling fire. “Well, we’re not doing it tonight. The whole tribe will need to be present, so it’ll have to be next Ravenlight.” And in a month’s time, perhaps she’ll change her mind when she sees me in bird form again. A reminder of who—no, what—I am.

  “Great.” Sophie rubbed her hands together. “That’ll give me some time to do some research online.”

  As a bird, I’d watched through office and home windows as people surfed the web. The world now had a plethora of informa
tion with the click of its little mouse. What could she possibly find about a dream walk in the spirit realm?

  Sophie looked around. “What do you do during the twenty-four hours you’re free?” Her eyes shone with orange firelight, and something like excitement or hope flickered in their depths.

  “I meditate and cook while everyone—except Revan—goes out and does only the Spirits know what in your noisy, congested city.” She pointed the sharp tip of her knife in my direction. “That one sits around and mopes the entire time, like a crying—”

  “Enough.” I rose and thrust a hand toward Sophie. “I’m sick of listening to your nattering, Imala. I’m taking Sophie home. It’s late, and she needs her sleep.”

  Placing her smaller hand in mine, she flattened her lips as if trying to hide a smile.

  Gods, I’m going to pluck every one of Imala’s feathers when she’s back in bird form.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sophie Brannigan

  For ten years, Revan hadn’t lived a life. At least, not one of freedom. Shackled to me, worried about my safety, it was apparent through Imala’s teasing that my presence held him back. Well, as much as one could be held back in bird form. The idea still seemed unreal, even though everything he’d said proved he was my bird.

  Once he led me several feet into the darkened forest, he twisted, his head bent low. “I really want you to think about this over the next month.”

  His earthy, wild scent made my toes curl. I imagined those hands sliding over my skin. Fire blazed through my cheeks, and I was thankful for night’s embrace and the ability to hide my embarrassment.

  “How about we forget everything for the time being?” I stumbled ahead, in what I thought was the general direction of my house. “Instead, why don’t you let me show you my favorite place.”

  “I already know it.” His words were smug. “The shop.”

  “True.” I clambered over another fallen log. “But you’ve never been inside, have you?” My foot caught between two rocks or stumps. It was so dark I couldn’t see more than three feet ahead, and I teetered toward the ground. “Crap.”

  Strong hands wrapped around my chest, then he crouched and worked my shoe from its prison.

  “Thanks.” From my vantage point, his broad, bare back shone inches from my fingers, the vertebrae marching in a straight, solid line to disappear into the band of his tight pants.

  “Nothing’s broken.”

  Slowing my breathing, I used a hand to fan my face.

  “Take me to your shop tomorrow. Let me see what you do with my real eyes.” His white teeth cut through the gloom, and his searching fingers found mine.

  “Deal.”

  We continued our trek. From nearby, an owl hooted. The bullfrog serenade quietened a bit. Leaves crunched underfoot, and twigs snapped with our movement.

  Well, I made all the noise. He moved like a stealthy cat—silent and fluid.

  Closer to the edge of the forest, where the road peeked between branches, I paused, checking both ways for cars.

  “I look forward to the trip tomorrow.” From behind, he pulled me into his chest and his lips brushed my earlobe. “I’ll go wherever you want.”

  “I know.” My voice came out huskier than I intended. That’s the problem. He’s anchored himself to me and never enjoys his freedom every month. “And now, you’ll experience life as a man and as my friend.”

  “Friend.” He seemed to roll the word around in his mouth, as if tasting it and not liking what he found. A finger traced my neck and trailed across my collarbone. Hot, moist breath fanned across my sensitive flesh. Like an invisible tug, the weight of his stare burned through me, even though I faced away from him.

  Closing my eyes, I inhaled his scent and pivoted, for some reason wanting to press myself to him again.

  “I want to be more than your friend, Sophie, yet…” He puffed his cheeks and released a gush of air. “And yet that’s impossible.”

  “Not for the next”—I checked the time on my cellphone then slid it into a pocket—“twenty-two hours.” And, when I go into the dream world, or whatever I’m supposed to do, it’ll be forever.

  Stepping across the chalky, moonlit country road, I let him pull me onto the porch. My gaze traveled his body. The outdoors suited him.

  “What are we doing?” he asked, his voice low, his stare lingering on my mouth, sending a nervous flutter of heat to spread in my chest.

  He opened a deep hunger inside of me, and it took everything within not to slide my hand up his arms and ask for another kiss. Never had I felt so comfortable with anyone. Realizing I was standing there like an idiot, I mentally slapped myself. Wake up and snap out of it.

  “You’re going to come inside and use the guest room. I’m not letting you sleep outside under the trees, like an animal.”

  Quiet laughter erupted. “I enjoy sleeping under the trees, close to Mother Earth and her beauty—animal form or not.” He nudged my shoulder, the pitch of his voice dropping. “Does this make me less of a man in your eyes?”

  “What?” His question startled me. “Of course not.” Me assuming he’d want to sleep in a house, under a roof, made me realize how different we were—both our worlds and eras. He was a man from a different time with a unique culture and way of life.

  I represented those whose ancestors contributed to his people’s demise, whose government gave assurances and treaties, squashing souls into submission and assimilating parts of their culture, effectively stymying their futures.

  His dark eyes lifted to stare outward into the murky countryside.

  “I’m sorry.” I wrung my hands, a heavy stone settling into my stomach. “I just, uh, didn’t think. Of course you want to sleep outside. It’s not like today’s the first time you’ve ever shifted into a man, and obviously you sleep. Outside. In the trees…err, under the trees.”

  Shut up, Sophie, my brain shouted, before you make this even more awkward.

  “Nothing to apologize for.” He clasped both of his hands around mine, stilling the tremors. He leaned in, and his teeth grazed me ear. “Though I wouldn’t mind sleeping in your bed.”

  “Ha.” I swallowed, trying to give my heart a chance to come down from space and resettle in my chest. Pulling back, I watched humor dance in his eyes and a small grin tug his lips. “Sure. You can sleep in my room, and I’ll take the guest bed.”

  Gotta keep it together and keep him at a distance. He’s dangerous to my heart.

  There was no way he truly cared for me. What he felt amounted to nothing more than lust, obligation, and comfort—that was it. True love only existed in movies and books. In the real world, it was ugly and cruel. My father had proven that.

  “Hmm.” He frowned, as if mulling over my last sentence. “That’s not exactly the sleeping arrangement I had in mind.”

  “It’s a shame, huh?” Unable to help myself, I grinned. Being with him made my soul lighter and happier.

  “As much as I’d enjoy spending more time with you tonight, you need rest.” He pressed his body closer, backing me against the cool siding.

  Desire swept through and ignited my veins. My chest constricted. I wanted this man like no other. Without thinking, I laid the tips of my fingers against his tight pecs and grazed my nails across the smooth skin.

  A sharp intake of air drew through his mouth. One hand slid behind my neck, and the other fluttered along my hipbone to skim down my jean-clad thigh.

  My stare met his. “You don’t have to ask this time.”

  With a quiet growl, his lips found mine.

  I melted into his embrace and pulled him closer, as if I could soak him into my pores, into my lungs, and into my blood.

  After a couple of minutes, he drew backward. “I have to stop.”

  “Don’t.” My lips skimmed his chest, and the tip of my tongue darted out to lick his skin—salty and delectable.

  A small groan at the back of his throat let me know how much he enjoyed that gesture.

 
; “Sophie.” Voice strained, he pushed himself backward. “I’d like nothing more than to claim you right here and now, but I will not dishonor you.”

  Please, dishonor me, I thought, already picturing us rolling in the leaves, naked and panting in the moonlight.

  He took my hands and gently kissed them. “But one day a month is no life for someone like you.”

  “But when I break the—”

  He raised a hand, the bands around his biceps tightening with the movement. “We can continue the discussion tomorrow after a full night’s rest.” He dropped my hands and backed down the steps. “I shall come for you a little after dawn, if that is agreeable?”

  “Uh, sure.” His formality made my back stiffen.

  “Then, pleasant dreams, my Sophie.”

  As I suspected, the only feeling involved is lust—which is mutual—but not true affection. Oh well, it was just as well—love led to a bad end most of the time. Clearing my mind of all thoughts of love and desire, I grabbed the door handle and eased it open, praying Aunt Merle was still sleeping.

  A symphony of snores greeted my ears, and I dashed inside.

  I held my breath as I pulled the door closed and froze, ears picking every sound in the house, from the droning television to the tick tock of the grandfather clock in the living room. If she awoke, it would be awkward trying to explain why I tiptoed into the house at one o’clock in the morning when I was supposed to be asleep in my bed. And it would be even worse trying to explain the sexy, half-naked hunk walking through our yard.

  With a quick twitch of the curtains, I watched his dwindling form march closer to the forest, back muscles rippling and black hair flying in the soft breeze.

  Love, who needs it? Certainly not me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Pecos “Revan” Chogan

  I tossed and turned on my pallet for hours, unable to get the feel and taste of Sophie from my skin and lips. What would it be like to hold her in my arms every day, to touch her with my fingertips at a moment’s notice, to claim her body with mine?