The Reclamation (Shadowed Wings Book 3)

by Ivy Asher

  On the plus side of things, I woke up this morning feeling more alive and invigorated than I have ever felt before. I can sense something different, and very powerful, flowing through my veins, and I’m eager to tap into it and see just what I was always meant to be able to do. When Pigeon was freed, I felt more complete than I ever have before, but now that everything inside of us is unlocked, we’re both flying in and around cloud nine.

  We wind through tents, and I can feel the guys somewhere behind me, tracking our every move, but I don’t look for them. I’m not sure why they’re so interested in keeping an eye on me, but I suspect it has to do with what Zeph said in the forest the night he brought all of us here: they’re there to make sure I don’t betray them in some way.

  Two large male gryphons with staffs step in front of Wekun, and we stop. “What business do you have here, String Puller?” one of the beefy males asks.

  As much as Wekun has helped me navigate everything going on around me, I’m starting to get the impression that he’s not the most popular guy around the camps. I don’t know if it’s simple hate for Bond magic, what it can do, and over all mistrust directed at those who possess it? Or if it’s something about Wekun in general that rubs people the wrong way, but he doesn’t have the fan club around here I would have guessed he’d have based solely on his looks.

  “We’re here to see Cree,” he answers simply, not at all perturbed by the way they’re speaking to him.

  “She only wants to see the female,” the other massive male grunts out, and Wekun nods once and steps aside.

  He gives me a thumbs up, which does nothing to calm my sudden nerves at all. I have no idea who this gryphon is other than she’s the boss around here. I feel like Zeph or the other two would be better choices to ask her to join us in our fight to defeat Lazza and the Vow, but for some reason, it seems this task has now officially fallen to me.

  Yay.

  I shrug and give myself the old pep talk standby of what the hell, here goes nothing as I pass Wekun and follow the two ripped gryphon guards past several tents before they open the flap to an especially large one and gesture for me to go in. I walk in confidently, and Pigeon gives me an approving nod. I figure it’s best to come off like a badass bitch when meeting other badass bitches, so I hold my head high and take in the space.

  It’s immediately clear that this is not the leader’s quarters, but more of a meeting room. There’s a large table that currently has a map spread on it, and Cree and several others are standing around the table, pouring over the details on the rolled out parchment. There are braziers with small fires set in each corner of the room, but the flames that flicker inside of them are green. I suspect they’ve been magicked in some way to provide heat without burning down the fabric of the tent they’re positioned next to, but what do I know, maybe fire in this place is always green.

  Cree looks up, and her aubergine-colored eyes land on me. “Ah, I was wondering when I’d get to meet the infamous Bond Breaker,” she comments, running her eyes over me.

  Clearly, gossip travels fast in this camp too. I’ve not formally introduced who I am or where I come from to anyone in either place, and yet it seems to be common knowledge nonetheless. I’m not sure if I have Nadi to thank for announcing my existence or Wekun, but it’s obvious I’m being discussed in many circles, and judging by some of the looks I’ve gotten while moseying around camp, not all of it’s good.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” she dictates to the others gathered around the table, and they all nod and immediately leave.

  She’s not terse, simply commanding, in every sense of the word. She has that same air about her from when I saw her in action with Zeph, Ryn, and Treno the first night we arrived. She is not to be fucked with, and I find myself wondering how I can develop a similar countenance.

  I imagine her mates wouldn’t question her worth or loyalty. They’re probably crawling all over themselves to keep such a powerful female happy.

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Falon,” I offer.

  I have to consciously remind myself that handshaking isn’t a thing here, so instead of offering my palm to her in greeting, I lace my fingers together behind my back and wait.

  “Falon...interesting, and what brings you to me on this piss soaked morning?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone.

  I have no idea if it’s my name or my presence that’s entertaining her, so I just keep it moving. “I’m sure you’re already aware of why I’ve arrived in the camp, and that I’m hoping to find help to fight Lazza and break the Vow once and for all.”

  “I am aware that you spoke with the Ouphe before you came here, and that they denied your request for help.”

  I study Cree for a moment. Her words imply some level of insult in my not coming to her first, but her tone is even and very matter-of-fact. I’m not sure if I should be reading between the lines or taking her at face value. Pigeon sits up and studies her too. I decide I can’t be bothered with games or trying to figure out if one’s being played right now.

  “The Ouphe were worried about how any help they offered could be perceived by the Gryphons,” I explain. “I hadn’t thought about that before speaking with them, but after listening to the discussion this morning, I agree that there’s too much negative history between the Ouphe and the Gryphons for them to really be of any help. The leader is going to work on finding out if they have any materials that might point me in the right direction as far as figuring out how to break the Vow, but that will be the gist of their contribution to our efforts.”

  “Our efforts?” Cree asks, and it reminds me of the Ouphe that questioned Wekun in a similar way.

  “My efforts, alongside Zeph, Ryn, and Treno’s,” I correct.

  “Yes, that’s right, you did come with quite the collection of powerful males. Many a female have been preening.”

  I try not to roll my eyes and grunt out a tell them good luck with that. Cree watches me like a hawk, studying me and my reactions, but I have no idea to what end.

  “Would that bother you, if the Syta and two Alterns entertained the females of this camp?” she asks smoothly, and I once again have no idea what the game is here.

  I look to Pigeon, but she seems just as intrigued and confused.

  “I don’t own them; it’s up to them how they choose to spend their time here. I won’t speak on their behalf one way or the other.”

  Cree nods and then waves at the guards standing just inside the front flap of the tent. One of them slips out immediately. Uneasiness washes through me.

  “And how about you, Falon, are you looking to tie yourself to our people?”

  Cree poses the question as innocently as she has the others, but I sense the trap in it immediately. She doesn’t trust me, and I get the distinct impression she’s looking for leverage. She wants collateral, something she can lord over me. Maybe she needs something that helps her feel confident that the lives of her people will be safeguarded if they fight, or maybe she just likes pulling strings like Wekun. Either way, I instantaneously feel like I’m in some fucked up chess match, which sucks because I’m a checkers kind of girl.

  “No,” I admit, in answer to her question. “I’m not interested in tying myself to anyone from any side,” I add.

  “Hmmm,” she hums, her tone tinged with a hint of judgement. “I’ve heard as much.”

  The flap of the tent opens, and in walks Treno, Zeph and Ryn. Their faces are stony, their movements stiff, and I swear I can hear the wheels spinning in Cree’s head as they’re lined up in front of her. She pushes away from the table and circles them, her purple gaze raking over their figures carefully, as though she’s committing every curve and dip to memory. But I get the distinct impression that she’s watching me more than them.

  Does she want a reaction?

  “Falon and I were just discussing your potential interest in females in this camp. She stated she didn’t want to speak on your behalf, so I thought it best to go right to the
source. You three know how this is done. Our ways haven’t changed in how alliances are formed during times of war. If you want us to fight, then you give us something to fight for,” Cree states, stopping her circling and settling behind Ryn.

  Four pairs of eyes land on me, and the sets belonging to Ryn, Zeph, and Treno do not look happy. If they’re trying to send me some kind of subliminal message though, it’s lost on me because these fuckers always look pissed off these days.

  “We are all aware of how things are done,” Ryn starts, his tone irritated. “However, we’re all mated and not in a position to make alliances in that way.”

  As though Ryn’s words went in one ear and right out the other, Cree steps up behind Ryn and presses into him. Her palms skate across his chest as she wraps her arms around him from behind. Ryn stiffens, and every inch of him radiates how uncomfortable he is, but it seems Cree doesn’t give a shit. I wait for Ryn to grab her hands and shove them away, but he doesn’t. He also doesn’t look over at me as she nuzzles her cheek against his neck.

  I look to Zeph and Treno, trying to understand what the fuck this chick’s deal is. Treno just looks blankly at the ground, and Zeph looks conflicted but doesn’t move either.

  “What the fuck are we missing here, Pidge?” I ask.

  Cree nips at Ryn’s neck, and he flinches but still doesn’t stop her. Anger at not understanding the nuance of what’s happening surges inside of me. Cree is tough as fuck, that’s clear, and she has hair I’m massively jealous of, but the fucked up vibe coming off her right now is not sitting right with me.

  “Cree, maybe you can clarify something for me,” I tell her, and her face lifts until she’s no longer looking at Ryn like she’s going to devour him, but her gaze is once again fixed on me. “Where I come from, we do things a bit differently, so you’ll have to forgive my ignorance, but when you talk about how things are done around here, is consent not a factor? I mean, clearly you don’t care about how pathetic or desperate you look pushing up on someone who’s clearly not interested, but is that just you, or is it a Gryphon thing altogether?”

  “What did you just say to me?” she asks, evenly pulling her hands from around Ryn and now moving in my direction.

  “I asked if you have any shame?” I tell her. “I used more words than that, but I’m happy to dumb it down if you need me to.”

  “So you do speak for them then?” she presses.

  “I’ll speak on behalf of anyone being pushed into something they clearly aren’t interested in,” I correct her.

  “Good,” she responds simply, and then she gestures to the guards in the room who all converge on us.

  “Take them to the pit please; I’ll be right behind you,” Cree instructs, and with that I’m suddenly being herded out of the tent and away from the Psycho Syta of this Gryphon camp.

  The guys don’t say anything, but they look tense as fuck. I know I’m missing so much right now, but they have looks on their faces that tell me I’m going to get ripped apart if I even ask for them to fill me in on what the fuck is happening, so I just keep it quiet.

  Pigeon feels agitated inside of me, so I focus on calming her down as we’re ushered through the camp to a large sunken rink of packed dirt. The word pit is accurate at least.

  This should be fun.

  14

  I look behind me to see Cree steadily trudging our way. And goody, she has what looks to be the entire camp on her heels. She passes me like a force to be reckoned with and hops down into the pit. She starts to untie the armor encasing her body, and I look around a little more cautiously.

  If she tries to force herself on anyone, I’ll fucking rip her to shreds. I don’t give a fuck what happens to me in my efforts to do so. It dawns on me that I’m massively outnumbered and, as indignant as I am, I may not be able to stop it, but I shove that away. I’m not the same person I was when I first landed in this world. I’m not powerless.

  “My Pride,” Cree calls out. “I humble myself before you today to answer a challenge that’s been laid at my feet.”

  My brow crinkles in confusion as gryphons all around me hiss in anger at her words.

  Did I challenge her?

  “We’ve been asked to join the fight against Lazza and the Vow, but the petitioner is untested and therefore unworthy. How can we follow that into battle? Sacrifice our lives and our futures for someone who won’t even claim her mates!”

  The crowd boos and shouts out their anger, and my mouth drops open. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, lady,” I snap at Cree.

  Apparently, my mouth gives no fucks, because I just pop off. And what’s weirder is as soon as I open my mouth, the crowd quiets, which means every word that slips off my tongue is heard loud and clear.

  “Do I not?” Cree counters. “Your scent isn’t on them, you don’t sleep in the same place, you left them in a dangerous situation with not a care in the world about what we might do to them, you offer them to other females. Why would we fight for someone who looks at us and our ways so heartlessly?” she demands.

  I see red at her words, and the next thing I know I’m jumping down into the ring too. I hear the guys shouting my name, but I ignore it. There is no fucking way I’m going to get painted as the bad guy here. Fuck this bitch.

  “I did not offer them to other females, I said I don’t own them or their decisions,” I shout out as I close the distance between me and Cree. “You don’t know shit about me. Those fuckers have walked all over me, lied, withheld information, blamed me for shit I have no control over, and destroyed any kind of connection we could have ever had together. If that’s the kind of shit you and your people value, then fuck you,” I snarl at her and then turn to our audience. “But you know what, I’m still going to break the Vow and do what I promised to do, regardless of the fucked up ways any of you see the world.”

  I turn back to Cree and continue my rant. “You want a fight, you got one, but let’s keep it real, it’s not because you’re standing up for some kind of code. You’re a bitch with a chip on your shoulder and nothing more.”

  Pigeon wing fives me, proud of my little speech. Excitement flashes through her as I start to untie my pants and strip down like Cree is. She’s probably going to kill me, but I don’t even care anymore. I’m tired of being pushed around. If I die, I’ll still fulfill my promise. All I know is, there better be a massive burger waiting for me in heaven...with bacon on it and a pool full of fries.

  “Maybe we have a worthy opponent on our hands after all,” Cree declares, and then in a blink, she explodes into a massive fog gray gryphon with bright purple eyes.

  “Alright, Pidge, this is all you?”

  Pigeon rips out of my chest like a freight train, and we’re attacking before the change from me to her is fully complete. I forgot how utterly fearless she is when she fights, and I clap and cheer her on when Cree rears back in surprise.

  She promptly gryphon slaps us into next week, but the element of surprise was good while it lasted. Pigeon shakes it off and flips back at her again, like some bouncy ball of feathers and promised pain, ricocheting around the pit, taking hits, but doling them out too.

  We’re fast, and Cree doesn’t quite know what to do with our manic advances. It seems balls to the wall is not the fight setting she’s used to facing. I can feel her studying Pigeon. Like a cat watching a fly, just biding their time before they...pounce.

  All at once, Pigeon and I are flying sideways through the air until we slam into the edge of the pit. Cree just swatted us like we were nothing more than an annoying mosquito. The crowd around us roars their approval, and Pigeon and I scramble to our feet just in time to take the full weight of Cree pouncing on us.

  She shoves us to the ground, and Pigeon roars out in pain and frustration as claws rake down our back. She’s toying with us. Pigeon and I are in no position to overtake her, but she’s not done having her fun. Cree digs her talons under one of our wings and wrenches it back hard. We scream at the sam
e time she trumpets glee.

  Rage builds inside of me as Cree starts to pick at us with her beak, her other talon-tipped hand working to get under our other wing. She wants to break us as badly as she can before ending this. I can feel the lesson she wants to stamp all over this pit with our blood, and defiance surges through me. Pigeon is lost to the pain, and it takes her a long time to register the words I’m screaming at her.

  “Shift, Pidge! Let me out!” I demand, ignoring the confusion and concern that flickers through her before Cree’s back paws dig into our flank. It feels like she’s trying to rip us in half.

  “Pidge, shift!” I bellow at her again, and this time she chucks the reins at me, and I pull her back inside of me.

  Cree is a million times heavier when I’m me than what she felt like on top of Pigeon, but I don’t waste any time before I unleash the power that is damming up inside of me. I scream as it pulses out of my body in purple waves, the blast shoving Cree off my back and across the pit.

  I let go of control of our body and shove Pigeon back out, and in a stride, we explode into our gryphon form and leap for Cree. She’s quick and rolls to the right, kicking out at us as she does. But we get our claws in her chest and tear at her as we’re shoved away. We scramble back and both get to our feet, cautiously assessing for a minute before charging toward each other again.

  “Shift, Pidge!” I scream out, and she does without question, just as Cree rears up ready to do everything she can to knock our head off our shoulders.

  Just like we used to practice back in the fields around Kestrel City, Pigeon gets sucked back into our core, leaving me to run right at a fucking monster. I skid like I’m stealing home base and punch out with my fists like I’m hoping my power will right hook her into oblivion. Panic rips through me though when no purple power of doom shoots out of my hands, and instead I find myself gripping some kind of weapon in both my palms.

  Time slows as I skid closer to Cree, the hilt of two swords in my hands. Only they’re not swords exactly, because the blades look broken.