Page 90 of Ruby
After pulling in a deep breath, I look back toward Szhe’ka. My gaze rakes from his mangled plume, thinking of his grace when I destroyed it, over to the stumps of his wings, echoes of my rage rising when I see the disfigurement. What if they had killed him?
Ree interrupts that thought. “We will keep you isolated out here until you decide. And if you don’t want him around, then that is fine, too. I will give him that bad news. I’m an expert at it, after all.”
I look back to her and the brittle smile on her face, reeling, but I already know what my choice will be.
If he will have me.
“No. I’m his,” I whisper, barely loud enough to be heard.
Her smile turns genuine… almost feline in its satisfaction, as she turns and saunters off, tail dancing behind her.
I stare at my feet for a long time, working through my thoughts before moving to start an awkward conversation. Szhe’ka is sitting outside the isolation hut when I find him.
He’s cleaner now. Damp feathers sticking in all directions. Skin still faintly marked where the cliff tore at him, but steady. Always steady.
He looks up when my shadow falls across him. “Ani.”
Just my name. Soft. Certain. My stomach flips, which is wildly inconvenient given the conversation I’m about to have and how determined I am to keep myself together.
“Can we talk?” I ask, using Azoeul’s language to keep my feelings in check.
He waits. He always waits. Like he believes I’ll say what I need to when I’m ready.
I don’t feel ready, but I start anyway.
“Ree told me something,” I say. “About the changes.”
His posture shifts almost imperceptibly, attention sharpening.
“They’re not going to stop,” I continue. “Not unless I… stabilize them.”
He doesn’t interrupt.
“She thinks it stops after sex.” I force myself to hold his gaze. “They don’t know if it’s the act or if it’s something biological. Genetic exchange.”
His eyes darken slightly in understanding. “And if you do not?” he asks, using the same toneless words.
“I keep changing.” I shrug, trying to make it casual. “And the constant… edge doesn’t go away either.”
“Edge?” he asks, confusion clear in his tone.
“Arousal,” I explain.
He goes very still at that. “I see,” he says quietly.
Silence stretches between us. The lake water murmurs behind the trees.
“I don’t want it to be random,” I say. “I don’t want to wake up with something I didn’t choose. And I don’t want to just pick someone because they’re convenient.”
He watches me like I’m something fragile and dangerous at the same time.
“I want it to be someone I—” I stop, swallow, correct myself. “Someone I trust. Someone I feel like I could… be with..”
His voice lowers. “And who is that?”
I step closer before I can lose my nerve. “You,” I say.
The word feels enormous once it’s out.
