The Avowed (Shadowed Wings Book 2)

by Ivy Asher

  Damn, it’s like petting a boulder.

  Heat stirs in me, and I flip off Pigeon in my head.

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that we’re okay,” he tells me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

  I wrap my arms around his torso, unable to stop myself from soaking up the warm affection. It seems I’m like a moth to flame these days when it comes to people being nice to me.

  “I know I just got back, but I made plans to make my absence up to you. I have the whole day planned, and I vow there will be no disappearing or leaving anything unfinished,” he tells me, stepping back so he can look at my face. His eyes are earnest, and his offer is adorable.

  I hesitate for a second, eyeing my bed and wondering if he’ll take a raincheck. His face falls ever so slightly, and something in my stomach does too.

  “If...if you don’t want to, I, of course, understand,” he states, and even his chin dimple looks bummed.

  “No, it’s not that at all. I’d love to spend the day with you. I just need to grab something to eat first. I skipped breakfast, and I have a little bit of a headache,” I explain, the thought of yummy food now all I can focus on.

  “Then to the kitchens we go,” he announces, offering his arm. I take it and chuckle as he leads me out of my room. His excitement and eagerness is contagious. I forgot how good I always feel around him, which is weird because we haven’t spent that much time together. I shrug and go with it. It’s a nice change from all the broody shit I’ve been dealing with since I got here.

  Treno lays down a blanket, and I look around and wipe at some of the sweat gathering on the back of my neck. It’s supposed to be the cold season sneaking in to displace the warmth, but it feels like the warm season decided it wasn’t going to go quietly. Suddenly the barely there dresses popular in Kestrel City make a shit ton more sense. For the first time since I was forced into one, I wish I had gone with the scantily clad dress instead of the Narwagh hide pants, bra, and vest.

  Treno sits on the blanket and starts unpacking the picnic basket he had prepared for us this morning while I was stuffing my face. He tugs at his own braided armor vest, and I feel better knowing I’m not the only one turning into some kind of sweat beast here.

  He looks up at me and gives me a shy smile that cracks me up. He’s been so nervous today as we’ve puttered around Kestrel City and checked out what there is to check out. This gorgeous, ripped, Altern of the Avowed is nervous around me for some reason, and it’s proving to be seriously entertaining. I mean, I practically unhinged my jaw and consumed a whole slab of meat this morning in an effort to satiate my ravenous appetite, and yet he’s been looking at me all day like I’m some kind of prize.

  I snort and Pigeon wing fives me in my head. She gets it. It makes no fucking sense that he’s even looking my way, but you won’t hear me complaining. I sit down on the blanket and scoot over until I’m in the shade. Treno’s mismatched gaze fills with satisfaction, and I wonder if he only put half the blanket in the shade on purpose so I’d end up sitting closer to him.

  “So, flower, I’d like to sit here and eat all kinds of sweet things and hear all about you,” he announces, grabbing a piece of dark purple fruit that’s the color of a plum but shaped like a strawberry on steroids.

  He takes a bite of the fruit and leans back on his elbows, watching me the whole time. I chuckle.

  “Um, okay, what exactly do you want to know?” I ask, not sure where to even start when it comes to me. Between the journal I read days ago and the memories that surface more and more every day, I’m not even sure what the CliffsNotes version of me should contain anymore.

  “I want to know whatever you want to tell me,” he states wisely, showing interest but keeping the ball in my court.

  It’s been ages since I’ve been out on a proper date. Mostly because, as a latent, shifters took issue with me, and I’d never found a Non I was interested in. But as odd as the timing of today is, it’s been nice spending time with Treno. I like getting to know him, and it makes me look at the conflict between the Hidden and the Avowed differently. There’s a human element to both sides now, and it soothes something in me that I can’t quite explain.

  “Well…I’m twenty-five. I am a mechanic, or at least I used to be, where I come from.”

  “What’s a mechanic?” he asks, reaching across me to grab some overgrown edamame-looking thingy.

  “That’s a hard one, because you have no idea what cars or automobiles are, and that’s what I used to fix, but the short answer is I fix things.”

  “We’re going to circle back to whatever cahhs are, but you fixing things is intriguing. So you’re telling me my flower is beautiful, wise and understanding, and smart?” he teases. “By the stars, could a being be so blessed?”

  I laugh and breathe on my nails, buffing them out on my vest. “What can I say, the gate chose wisely,” I tease.

  “That it did, that it did,” he agrees, his eyes bright and his smile catching.

  “So what about you?” I ask, feeling more relaxed in spite of the sweltering heat.

  “Ooh, we’re on me already?” he asks with a faux nervous look.

  I laugh, and he tilts his head to the side in thought.

  “Well, I’m the Altern…” he starts, and I snort and give him a look that says oh really, I had no idea.

  He chuckles.

  “What all does that entail?” I ask, repeating the pattern of him asking about what I did.

  “Mostly, it’s me doing everything my brother isn’t interested in...which is pretty much everything not involving the war. He’s very focused on victory and not much else, which means the rest falls on me. A lot of boring planning for crops and maintaining the city and its defenses.”

  “Mogus extermination,” I add cheekily.

  “Naturally,” he replies not missing a beat, his smile stretching even wider.

  “Do you like being the second in command?” I press, picking up on an undercurrent of melancholy in his tone.

  He looks at me for a beat like he’s trying to see into my head while also trying to sort out what’s in his own.

  “Would you think I’m addled if I told you no?” he asks, the smile on his face never wavering, but I don’t miss the glint of insecurity in his mismatched gaze.

  “No way,” I reassure him. “I wouldn’t want the job if it were offered to me,” I add.

  “And your reasoning for that would be…” he queries, trailing off.

  “That’s a lot of pressure. Yes, there are perks, I’m sure. But to be responsible for all of those people, to have their safety, livelihood, prosperity, and happiness sitting on my shoulders…” I trail off, and Treno nods, his look far away.

  “Maybe I’d feel different if it weren’t for the war, but the battles get tiring. We make progress, then lose ground... It’s a never-ending, stagnant trap. Lazza won’t hear anything against it; if you’re not there to discuss strategy, then he has no time for you. I wondered often what he’d be like once it’s all over, but I can’t picture it anymore,” he states evenly, his tone somewhat sad.

  I watch Treno for a beat as he gets lost in some unspoken thought. He looks so sad and resigned in this moment, and I’m surprised by how impacted I feel by that. I can’t imagine what he’s been through, and it’s clear the fighting has taken its toll. I want to soothe the ache I hear in his voice and chase away the shadows in his eyes.

  “So, if you weren’t the Altern, what would you be doing right now?” I ask, changing the direction of the conversation from gloomy to lighter hypotheticals.

  “Wow,” Treno states, his eyes thoughtful. “I’m not sure.” He laughs and shakes his head. “One of my best friends growing up wanted to be a farmer. At the time, I thought that it seemed like too much work, but now…” He pauses. “Now, I think I’d really like that life—maybe not crops, but animals. I’ve always liked working with creatures. Just the thought of working hard, coming home to my mate and my eyas, living off of m
y own efforts and abilities...yeah, that sounds like a good life to me.”

  Treno gives me a warm smile that I feel settle deep in my chest.

  “Now tell me all about cahhs,” he requests, and I crack up.

  “You sound like you’re from Boston the way you say that,” I point out, grabbing the lovechild between a plum and an Arnold Schwarzenegger sized strawberry and taking a bite.

  Juice drips down the side of my mouth, and I’m forced to give the loudest, most unladylike slurp known to man to keep this fruit from jizzing all over me. Treno laughs and wipes at my cheeks with his hands in an effort to stop the greatest juice tsunami of our time. There’s no hope, and sticky sweetness drips down my vest to mix with the sweat and make things even more uncomfortable for me.

  I pull the fruit away from my mouth and announce, “She’s a squirter!”

  I pause for a minute as what I just said sinks in, and then I completely lose it. I start laughing so hard I must look like a braying donkey. Treno clearly has no idea what I find so funny, but apparently my gleeful giggles are contagious, because he’s guffawing in no time right alongside me.

  “You made it look so sexy,” I accuse as we dive right into another set of giggle fits. “You could have warned me about the level of juiciness I was up against!”

  “And miss this? So long as we both live, you can count on me to never warn you about possible food mishaps! This was just too good. Who knew sak fruit could be this entertaining?”

  “It’s called sak fruit?” I demand, new peals of laughter ringing out of me. “That makes it so much worse!”

  “It does, doesn’t it,” he agrees on a chuckle.

  The next thing I know, Treno has a hold of my hips, and he’s pulling me closer to him. Before I can even squeak in surprise, his lips are on mine. I’m a little stunned by the sudden move but not mad at it in the least. He cups my now sticky cheeks and moves his lips from my top lip to my bottom and back up again. I lean into him and open up, ready to see just where he wants to take this.

  He promptly takes it to the ninth ring of holy motherfucking shit, this guy just kissed me right into an orgasm. Then he brings me back down to spend a little time in can you get pregnant from kissing, because I think I just did land. And then finally we end up in a solid state of I’m going to go ahead and need you to fuck me now.

  Treno pulls back, and with not an ounce of shame, I lean forward to chase his lips. He runs his thumb over my now kiss-swollen mouth, and if I were wearing panties, they would have spontaneously combusted by now.

  Consider my world...rocked.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble at the same time Treno breathes, “Wow.” I know that mouth-fuck was all him, but I won’t argue with any appreciation he wants to throw my way.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me, his mismatched eyes studying mine. “You were laughing, and I wanted to taste the pure joy as it poured out of your mouth. I have to say, it’s better than the sak fruit,” he teases, and I giggle like an oversexed schoolgirl.

  Pigeon gives me the side-eye and I’m pretty sure flashes me some version of don’t mess this up for us, you weirdo!

  I shove her away.

  “Never apologize for doing that...ever again,” I inform him, and he laughs.

  “Good to know,” he confesses, and then he closes the distance between us again.

  I’m so ready to get lost in another epic kiss. There’s just one fucking problem. It’s hot as hell, and I’m suddenly sticky and itchy where the fruit juice went down my top. How is a girl supposed to ride a man’s face into happy oblivion with this sticky, sweaty, itchy situation going on? I’m pretty sure if I just ripped all of my clothes off right now, Treno would take that as a good thing. That might help with the sweaty, but the sticky and itchy are still going to be a problem. Maybe I can convince him to go back to the city where I can ride his face in the shower?

  “Where’d you go?” he asks me, sucking on my bottom lip and then nipping at it in a way that coaxes out a moan.

  “You are so fucking hot, but so am I. I’m dying,” I tell him, pulling at the collar of my top.

  “Oh, thank the Thais Fairies, I thought it was just me,” he confesses. “Do you care if I take my armor off? I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I think the liquid currently trapped in my armor could rival that of a sak fruit’s.”

  I laugh and gesture for him to go ahead.

  “Can I take mine off too?” I ask, the need to itch overwhelming any decency or sexiness I might have been hoping to accomplish.

  “Of course! Are you okay?” he queries, as I immediately shove my hand down the V of the vest and scratch aggressively between my breasts.

  “I’m super fucking itchy all of a sudden,” I admit, and he nods his head like this information isn’t at all surprising.

  “Let’s go for a swim. It will wash off the juice, which should cure the itching and cool us both down.” He gestures over at a small lake to our right, and as much as unfamiliar water freaks me out, I could orgasm alone at the thought of swimming in crisp cool water.

  “Last one to the water has to sweat more,” I declare lamely, but it’s too fucking hot to be witty.

  I sprint toward the lake, untying my clothes as I go. Treno yells an objection and then laughs as he rushes to catch up with me. I rip my top off and practically attack the evil bra underneath. Why the fuck do I even bother wearing these? I shred the laces with a well-placed talon and fling it away from me. I almost eat dirt while trying to get my pants off, but yesterday’s mistakes are today’s triumphs. I recover and hoot in victory, naked and feeling infinitely better already.

  Strong arms grab me from behind, and the next thing I know, I’m lifted up and thrown caveman style over Treno’s shoulder. We reach the edge of the lake in a couple of his long strides when he grabs me off his shoulder, and I can tell he’s going to throw me in. I squeal my protest, and it comes out like the bleat of a constipated goat. I hold onto his arms for dear life and scream noooooo!

  Maybe it was the creepy goat noise or the blood curdling scream, but Treno stops mid throw and brings me eye level with him instead.

  “What happened?” he asks, holding me out in front of him.

  I gesture to the water. “There’s not anything that lives in there that’s going to, like, eat me?” I ask, eyeing the lake now like it just might be poison. “Anything that’s going to try to crawl into an orifice and lay eggs?” I add, feeling like that’s a good one to ask about too.

  Treno looks at me like I’m crazy.

  Pshhh, swallowing down my breakfast whole and angry itching my boobs, he doesn’t bat a lash at, but asking about possible scary lake predators gets me the judgy eyes?

  Treno cracks up and starts shaking his head. “No, nothing that’s going to gobble you up except for me,” he states casually. And then the fucker throws me unceremoniously into the lake while I scream, “What about the egg thing?”

  I pull in a deep breath mid-flight and hit the water with an epic cannonball worthy splash. I sink into the cool water, and it feels so good he’s immediately forgiven for the throwing. It’s surprisingly clear, and I instantly feel better that if there is anything that might want to lay eggs in my anus, I’ll see it coming.

  A massive male form drops into the water on my left, and I kick up to the surface with a gasp and smooth strands of hair back from my face. Treno pops up laughing, and I immediately rain my wrath in the form of splashes down upon him. He quickly retaliates, showing no mercy whatsoever, and that’s when I pull out the big guns.

  Wings shove out of my back, and I immediately recruit them to aid in my assault. Treno may have me beat on the splashing front because his arms are so fucking long and big, but so is my wingspan. Treno calls on his own wings, but I’m hammering him with so much water he’s going to need to start calling me Niagara Falls. He shouts and huddles over, lifting one white wing and waving it like a flag of surrender.

  I pause my watery onslaught. “Do you give up?” I
ask, victory and amusement sprinkled through my tone.

  He turns to me, a wry smile on his face. “Never!” he declares and leaps for me. I squeal and try to splash him into submission again, but he’s too fast.

  “Cheater!” I scream-giggle as I turn and try to escape the arms winding around me like octopus tentacles.

  “How dare you!” Treno mock gasps. “The mistake of trusting me was yours, flower,” he teases, and I wiggle, weak with laughter, to get out of his hold.

  I’m about as effective as a floundering fish out of water, but I can’t stop laughing.

  Treno turns me until we’re chest to chest, and his smile and answering laughter make me feel all warm and gooey inside.

  “First rule of battle, flower. Never give your opponent the benefit of the doubt. They’ll use it against you every time,” he jokes as he pins me tightly against him.

  My purple gaze grows devilish, and I shove my hand between our slippery bodies to grab his cock. I circle my hand around it and smile when he freezes.

  “Second rule of battle, Treno,” I parrot cheekily. “Never leave your cock unprotected, it’ll get used against you every time,” I tell him saucily, leaning in until our lips are a mere hair’s breadth away.

  “You’ve caught me with my wings bound and my pants down,” he admits on a breathy chuckle, his hard-on jerking slightly in my grasp. “Then again, I could say the same thing,” he adds, dropping his hand from my waist and running his fingers through the folds of my pussy.

  Want fills his blue and purple gaze, and I nip at his bottom lip.

  “Mmmmm. What can I say, you got me,” I admit, my voice dripping with need. I lean back, spreading my legs and giving him better access.

  His other hand drops slightly to support me better in the water, and I internally cheer. Just as Treno licks his lips and moves his fingertips to circle my clit, I use my wings and arms to start splashing him again. He yelps in surprise, releasing me, and I hurry back and give myself a better position for victory.