by Ivy Asher
I do as I’m told, and as soon as my face is turned up to the sky, Zeph pours the contents of the skin slowly and carefully through my hair. I gasp in surprise when Ryn’s fingers comb through my locks, and he works the tears-of-clarity-laced water into my scalp like an award winning head masseuse. I have to actively battle against the satisfied groan that tries to sneak out of me as Zeph pours warm water on my head and Ryn’s magic fingers go to work. It’s over before I want it to be, and I try to mask my humph of disapproval with a cough.
The waterskin is refilled and mixed, and I hold my breath as it’s poured over my face, neck and chest. My eyes snap open, and I freeze when Ryn reaches around me from behind and cups the bottoms of my breasts ensuring water makes its way under them. It’s clear they have a no-nook-or-cranny-left-untouched policy at work, and my heart picks up as water is poured on me and Ryn’s hands move down my body. I should not be fucking enjoying this, but there’s no hiding the truth from myself, because for whatever reason, I really fucking am.
I put full blame on my bitch of a gryphon who is apparently pumping some baser animal need through me to combat the good sense I was born with. She may be all for this alpha do what I say bullshit, but I don’t want to be. Usually I can count on a little sharp wit coupled with a venomous retort to get me out of most sticky situations. But mouthing off gets me nowhere here. They’re bigger and stronger than I am, and they have the added bonus of knowing where the fuck they are.
Ryn’s hands move down to my hips, and he brings them in to skim my lower abdomen. Lust and alarm war inside of me, and I step back from his touch.
“I will cleanse that myself, asshole, thank you very much,” I snap at him with a glare. I reach my hands out and cup my palms together and wait for Zeph to pour the water in my bowled palms. I stand like that for a couple beats, waiting to see if they’ll argue, but as warm water fills my hands, relief washes through me.
I splash water between my thighs dampening the now dry curls there. I’ve never been self-conscious of my body. Growing up around shifters, nudity is common place and not at all taboo or socially unacceptable. But right now in this moment, with these two watching my every move, their hands and gazes running over my naked body, I feel more vulnerable than I ever have in my life. A shiver runs up my back. The cool night air works to steal the warmth of the water from my body, and I’m filled with conflicting emotions.
The skin is filled up and mixed one last time, and Ryn and Zeph make quick work of my legs and feet. Ryn acts like we’re done, and I open my mouth to ask about my wings. It has everything to do with not wanting to repeat this whole forced bathing situation and nothing to do with the desire to have his hands on me again, I tell myself adamantly...multiple times. Zeph presses his hand at the base of my spine, and he slowly traces up my vertebrae, stopping at the base of my wings. He applies a slight pressure between my shoulder blades, and a moan forms in my throat at the tingling sensation his touch starts in my back. My wings make a snapping noise, and then all of a sudden, the weight of them is gone from my back and shoulders.
I spin like a dog chasing its tail, looking over my shoulder to confirm that they’re gone. I look up at Zeph, shocked. “How did you do that?” I ask in awe.
He just glares at me with obvious disdain, and I try not to shrink under his hateful gaze. What the fuck is that for?
“In the water,” Ryn commands.
He moves away from me to grab a handful of the moss he set on a rock by the pool, and I pull my gaze away from Zeph’s loathsome stare and watch Ryn. I suddenly realize that I’m transfixed and practically drooling over his ass as he bends over, and I quickly tear my eyes away from his glutes and look out toward the trees with intense longing. A deep growl starts next to me, and Zeph makes his warning clear. I turn to meet his eyes again, the fuck you clear in my gaze and square off with him for a minute.
I tell myself to just get this over with. Once they know I’m telling the truth, I can go home and all of this will just be some confusing jumble of hot-as-fuck-fantasy mixed with confusing nightmare. I narrow my eyes at Zeph and move past him to step back into the pool. I would go for the aggressive shoulder slam as I walk past him, but I’m pretty sure that would do more damage to me than it ever would to his gargantuan ass.
The water once again stings my skin, too warm for my cold, numb limbs, but I grit my teeth against it and look up just in time to see Zeph untying the strings of his pants.
“Those will stay on,” I growl at him, and he looks from me to the water, down to his pants like I’m crazy for suggesting such a thing. “It’s bad enough that you’re putting me through all this, but I refuse to be in here with either one of you naked,” I demand.
“We won’t hurt you,” Ryn defends, and I turn to see that he was also unlacing his leather pants.
“I don’t know shit about you or what you might or might not do. I’m not just going to take your word for it,” I snap and swim back further into the pool. I tell myself that if things start to go bad, I will at least buy myself some time to escape if they have to get their pants off before they can hurt me. Besides, the last thing I need right now is to deal with their dicks and any effect they might have on my already conflicting desires.
Zeph and Ryn stare at each other for a second, and then Ryn shrugs and Zeph rolls his eyes. He grumbles something that I can’t make out and steps into the pool with his pants on. I get that Zeph thinks I’m some kind of spy for who the fuck only knows, but I have to wonder if he’s this much of a prick all the time or if this surly shit is just for me. Ryn follows him into the water, and I take a deep measured breath to prepare myself for round two of let’s fuck with Falon’s hormones.
“Drink this,” Ryn orders me as he walks toward me and extends his hand. He’s holding a small clear glass vial with light pink liquid in it.
I stare at him, making no effort to take it. “Right, I’m just going to down that with no questions, being that I’m all for giving you fuckers the benefit of the doubt,” I tell him, my nose scrunching up with distaste.
Ryn rolls his eyes at me now. “This just encourages the truth,” he tells me and then presses the vial closer. I lean away from it automatically, and Ryn lets out an irritated huff. He brings the vial to his lips and takes a sip. “See, it’s not poison or anything that’s going to hurt you,” he reassures once again, and I watch him warily for any signs that he’s lying.
I reach out and take the vial and bring it up to my nose and sniff. It smells like yellow cake, and I drop it to my lips and tilt my head back to drink the whole thing like a shot. A cool sensation spreads out inside of me, and I lick my lips as I hand the vial back to Ryn.
“What did it taste like to you?” he asks me oddly.
“Like yellow cake,” I answer, and I don’t miss the look that Ryn gives to Zeph who moves to my right. “Motherfuckers!” I shout at them and splash them both with water as I turn and try to swim away. Of course, their giant selves can fucking walk in this pool, and they stride toward me faster than I can swim away. “If you fucking roofied me, I’m going to kill you both. I don’t care if you’re the size of a mountain. I will find a bulldozer or a stick of dynamite or something. Not even mountains withstand that shit!”
I fight against the big hands that wrap around my waist and pull me backwards. I kick and flail, splashing around like a hooked shark desperate for escape. “I will go full House of Tyrell Sand Snake on your mountain asses, and you’ll be the ones getting your heads crushed. I will fucking crush your heads!” I screech as my back slams into the warm wet chest of either Zeph or Ryn. My threats become unintelligible as I battle to get out of my captor’s grip and curse them to hell and back.
I’m not sure how long I struggle or how long they just stand there and let me. I realize that it’s Zeph who’s holding me tightly to him like he’s trying to swaddle me with his body in order to get me to calm down, and I hate that it’s working. Tears prick my eyes again as I uselessly try to get away and he
exerts very little effort to keep me right where I am. I stop screaming at them and breathe hard, trying to keep the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability from drowning me.
“You useless fucking pigeon,” I shout at my gryphon, turning my rage on her. “I wish you were a wolf instead of a rotisserie chicken, you worthless buffalo wing!” I jibe, hoping for some kind of response. Any kind of response, but nothing stirs inside of me.
Ryn’s eyes widen with surprise as I turn my impotent rage on my animal instead of them, cursing her and threatening her. I even fucking try bribery, but nothing. I feel fucking nothing inside where she should clearly be.
As a teenager, I had to come to terms with being latent when I realized I couldn’t shift, but I always felt what I thought was a wolf inside of me. The connection with my animal was there even if I couldn’t unlock her. I had the heightened smell and hearing, the strength and dominance. I always felt her. But now I’ve shifted into some winged fucking monster, and suddenly I’m empty inside. If this whole being held captive thing isn’t enough to scare the shit out of me, the loneliness I now feel in my chest trumps that fear a million fold.
Where are you?
I plead with my gryphon, but it’s met with stillness and silence inside of me, my desperation clearly not enough to make anything happen. The bitch has abandoned me, and I hate her for it.
7
I give up and go still in Zeph’s hold. I pant through my desolation and meet Ryn’s gaze with defeat in my eyes. He almost looks sorry.
“If you’re done now, I’ll just scrub you, and then we’ll ask some questions,” he tells me, his tone a little softer, and I don’t bother to wipe at the tear that streaks down my cheek. Another follows in its tracks, unchecked, and I look away from him and stare out into the darkening forest.
I don’t say or do anything as Ryn scrubs my face, neck and shoulders with soft moss that smells like hopelessness. I don’t fight Zeph as he loosens his hold and lifts my arms or when he spins me around so that Ryn can scrub my back when he’s done with the front of me. I don’t look at Zeph. Don’t give him a peek of the desolation coursing through my every cell, but I can feel his honey gaze on me the whole time. They say nothing as they scrub me down quickly and efficiently, and the silence constricts around us even tighter as no one says or does anything for a minute after it’s clear Ryn is done.
Zeph slowly spins me around, my back against his chest again. “What is your name?” he asks me eventually, his deep tone snaking its way unwelcomingly through me and leaving warmth in its wake.
“Falon Solei Umbra,” I answer robotically.
“And where are you from?” Ryn presses.
“Colorado. That’s a state in the USA which is located on the North American continent,” I repeat.
“Are you Avowed?” Zeph grumbles out.
I blink away another tear. “I don’t think so, but I don’t exactly know what that is, so I can’t say for sure.”
“Are you mated?” Zeph asks me, and something about his tone or the question makes me snap out of my cyborg impression.
“No,” I growl out, meeting Ryn’s eyes in front of me with pure rage.
“What were you doing flying through the Amaranthine Mountains?” Zeph demands.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I was trying to spread my grandmother’s ashes, but all of a sudden, I felt like I’d been hit by lightning. The next thing I know, I had wings, and you were attacking me,” I accuse and look up over my shoulder at him. I’m pressed too closely against him, and all I can make out is his five-o’clock-shadow-dusted chin.
“What do you know of Lazza?” Ryn asks me, and I pull my irritated glare from Zeph’s chin and rest it back on Ryn’s gray eyes.
“I don’t know who that is. I’ve only heard the name once before when he mentioned it,” I say, gesturing with my head to indicate Zeph behind me.
“What about Vedan or Kestrel City? The Ouphe?” Ryn presses.
I shrug. “No idea what any of that means.”
Ryn and Zeph exchange a confused look and an incredulous laugh escapes me. “You were so convinced that I was lying, but I wasn’t. I told you assholes the truth the first time you asked me for it! Stupid pricks,” I sling at them and push out of Zeph’s hold. “Get the fuck off me,” I snap at him, and I’m surprised when he actually lets me go. I swim away from them toward the edge of the pool and then turn around, leaving the rocky edge to protect my back.
“Can I fucking go home now?” I demand, completely fed up with everything that’s happened from the minute I woke up in this strange place.
“No,” Ryn answers, and my stare snaps to his in surprise. He looks about as shocked as I do.
“Why not?” I question.
“Because you belong to us now,” he tells me, and then he slaps a hand over his mouth.
“Wait. What?”
“What he means is we don’t know how to get you home. There are old stories of gates that the Ouphe used to pass to different places, but the knowledge of how to use them died when they did. We don’t know how you got here,” Zeph tells me, stepping in front of Ryn.
“Is that true?” I ask, looking past Zeph and focusing on Ryn.
“Yes,” he tells me, and an emphatic nod punctuates the word.
“Can you figure it out?” I press. “I have a job and a life.” I open my mouth to try and say that I want to go home, but nothing comes out. I furrow my brow in confusion and look to Zeph and Ryn for help.
“You can’t say things that are untrue,” Zeph tells me, and he runs his gaze over my face.
But I want to go home, I tell myself and then try to communicate that once more. Nothing comes out. What the fuck? “You’re a dick,” I blurt to Zeph, checking to make sure that my ability to speak hasn’t somehow been taken from me.
His dour features turn downright cantankerous, and he runs a wet hand through his black curls. “So what exactly are we supposed to do with her now?” he snarls and turns to Ryn. Ryn’s eyes widen in panic. “Don’t answer that,” Zeph commands quickly, and I stare back and forth between them for a minute.
“She’s not one of Lazza’s. She’s not Avowed. She should stay here where she’ll be safe until we can sort things out,” Ryn finally offers, and I can tell that’s the last thing that Zeph wants to hear.
I look around trying to think through any other alternative to being here with these mountain-sized assholes, but until I can figure out exactly what here means in relation to where I come from, my hands are tied. That thought sends a spark of heat flashing through me, and I roll my eyes at this new side of me that could put a nympho to shame. Zeph and Ryn are whisper arguing about something that I can’t make out, and I ignore it as I pull myself out of the water and reach for the fawn-colored shirt that Ryn had on under his armored vest.
I pull it on, glad to find that it falls past my ass to mid-thigh, and fight the sudden drive I feel to bring the fabric up to my nose and inhale it. “Fuck, I need to get laid,” I observe, and I pull my now white hair over one shoulder and ring it out into the water.
The whisper arguing suddenly stops, and I look down into the water to find both Ryn and Zeph staring at me. I can’t quite decipher the look they’re both wearing, but it’s not flattering, given what I just said.
“Don’t worry, that wasn’t an invitation.” I open my mouth to tell them I wouldn’t even touch their dicks with somebody else’s vagina, but I can’t get the words out. “How long before this shit wears off?” I ask and point to my mouth.
“A couple hours,” Ryn tells me, and the corner of his mouth turns up with amusement.
“You can wipe that smile off your face. I don’t fuck freaks who rub up on girls they kidnap, all the while pretending it’s to ensure they’re telling the truth.” I put finger quotes on the end of that statement and move away from the hot spring in the direction of the trees.
“We didn’t kidnap you,” Ryn shouts after me, and I hear them getting out of the warm water
behind me. I want to turn around and watch the steam and water droplets caress their nice bodies, but I punch that thought in the boob and keep walking.
“Didn’t you though? Loa was very clear about my prisoner status,” I counter, wincing as I step on a sharp twig.
“Where are you going?” Zeph demands.
“Your cliff castle is this way.” I point in the direction I came from and then flip the bird over my shoulder.
I hear a snap, and I know it’s the snap of wings, but I ignore it. The sound ricochets through the air behind me, and before I know what’s happening, I’m snatched from the ground and carried up into the air. Zeph pumps his big black wings and forces us higher into the sky as I leave a surprised yelp on the ground where I was just walking. We clear the tops of the tall trees easily, and he pulls me tightly against him. Once the surprise abandons me, I embrace pissed off. I’ve had about enough manhandling from these douchebags to last me a lifetime.
“I can fucking fly on my own, asshole,” I yell at him as I try to ignore how much I like the wind whipping past my face and how good Zeph suddenly smells to me. He has that distinct lilac-on-a-warm-breeze smell that apparently all gryphons have, but there’s a deep musky undertone to him that I suddenly want to shove my face in.
“I’d say, judging by the fact that you smashed a stall in the market to smithereens instead of flying off to escape when you jumped out of the window, your skills are debatable,” Zeph chides, his lips entirely too close to my ear.
I bristle against the amusement I hear in his tone. “Well, if Ryn hadn’t been making things difficult, I would have been able to fly away,” I argue as I fight the urge to pinch the shit out of the forearm that he has wrapped around me. I’m pretty sure he gives me a condescending “mm-hmmm,” but the wind steals it away before I can be sure. “I could have walked back,” I inform him, and the pout in my tone annoys even me.