Page 71 of Hooded

“I brought some psi-grenades,” he says, shoving the bag at me. “Vypr thought they might be welcome.” His feathers shake.

I take the bag and check the contents.

“I don’t need these. The sword will suit my purposes,” I respond.

“I want them.” Fern snatches the bag from me.

My cocks rise instantly at the sight of her handling the grenades. Made all the more difficult due to the proximity of the other Gryn.

There is a war in my chest. I want my Fern with me. I don’t want the other Gryn near her, and yet the only way we can dispose of Proto is if they are there to help me protect her.

As I take a menacing step towards Ayar, who initially holds his ground and then moves away from me, I’m not sure I can do it.

I’ve not worked with others, even my fellow gladiators, in any meaningful way, other than to avoid being dealt a death blow in the dome, but to work with them…

“I’m going to need a pulsar rifle,” Fern says. “Go ask Mylo for one for me.” She looks up, her beautiful face expectant.

The last thing I want is to talk to the other Gryn, let alone ask them for anything. My feathers itch with discomfort, but it is what my mate wants. And what Fern wants, she gets.

I slide the sword into the holster and strap it onto my back between my wings as I stride over to the other Gryn.

“My mate wants a pulsar rifle,” I growl at the one called Jay, who is cradling one.

“What type?” he asks, delving into a nearby container without batting a feather. “I’ve got anti-matter, sniper, and cannon.”

It didn’t occur to me to ask, but I’m not going to let on to these Gryn.

“All of them.”

“All of them?” Syn, currently filling more bags with explosives, queries. “That’s some mate you have.”

I lift my lips in a snarl at him.

“I have nested for her, vrexer. No matter what she thinks of my nest.”

“Hey, Klynn, we get it,” Vypr, the dark one says. “We’ve all got mates too, all human like yours.”

My feathers bristle in surprise. “You are mated?”

“You make it sound like a bunch of vrexers like us shouldn’t be.” Jay laughs. “But we are. It seems the universe and fate brings us all our boundless flights in the form of little humans.”

“Never to be underestimated.” Strykr joins us, a bandolier across his chest filled with pulsar pistols. “Human females, that is.” He looks over at Fern, who is carefully refilling the bag with psi-grenades. “And as for your nest, I’m telling you now, you’ll never be happy but your mate will.”

I growl, a primal noise dredged up from my very soul.

“Vrex, this one’s worse than Ayar,” Syn says.

“I think you’ll find I am considerably less feral,” Ayar retorts. All of the other Gryn look at him until he shrugs and returns to checking over pulsars.

“Well, that was interesting,” Strykr says with yet another confused glance at Ayar. “Has he been eating anything different recently?” he asks Vypr.

The big, dark Gryn shrugs. “Our mate is expecting another youngling. It makes him happy.”

“Vrex!” Strykr slaps him on his shoulder. “Congratulations.” He grins as if this youngling is his own.

The others all murmur their own tributes.

Somewhere deep inside me, something shifts. A desire born of another instinct I cannot control. A desire to be part of these Gryn. To build my nest on Ustokos and to battle, love, and live as part of a community. Nothing I’ve ever felt before is quite like this.

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