Page 238 of Lana Pecherczyk
“You should have a trove,” he said to his mate, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’ll help you build one. Or you can share mine. I don’t actually have many objects in mine, would you believe it?” He scoffed. “A crow without shinies? Anyway, I don’t have physical mementos because I paint them. The early murals are fucking awful.” He glided his hand across the air before Blake’s sleeping face. “Imagine, if you will, a wall covered withcrude drawings of thousands of cocks and balls. Impressive, I know. But in my defense, I was ten when I discovered the site.”
Jasper gave a derisive snort. Ada smacked him on the chest.
“Ignore him, River,” she mumbled, eyes drifting closed again. “Keep talking. She’ll come home.”
“Or fly away in horror,” Jasper joked. A second swat forced a begrudging reaffirmation out of him. “She’s right. Keep talking. You crows are like wolves—you need to know your pack is near.”
“Pack is for pussies.” River flipped up his middle finger at the king. “Murder is better.”
A smile tugged at his lips when Jasper checked to see if his Ada watched, then mimed his hand talking and pulled a face at River.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Trix shouted.
“About what?” he teased.
“About what, he says.” She rolled her eyes. “You know bloody well what. Don’t be a prick. Tell us what’s in your trove.”
“So impatient. But understandable.” River nodded sagely. “Ofcourseyou’re bursting with curiosity. A crow’s sacred trove peels back layers of their soul, exposing every secret they’ve collected across centuries.” Metal clinking stopped. “Treasures, memories, and dreams they only dare whisper to starlight, all gathered in one sacred space.” Cloud’s eyes narrowed, knuckles white around his knife. But River forged on. “Trespassing doesn’t just break some unwritten rule. It slices open their heart and devours it raw.”
“Oh no,” Trix gasped, palms touching her rapidly reddening cheeks. “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell us.”
Nervous eyes darted around, checking reactions from the others—Jasper to Ada, Trix to Aeron, Cloud to everyone. Silence stretched. And just as the tension grew so thick they could choke, River’s lips twitched in a half smile, and he shrugged.
“I suppose,” he drawled, “if I can’t expose myself around you lot, then who can I do it for?”
More than one of his friends groaned or rolled their eyes. Jasper might have palmed his face to hide an uttered threat. But Cloud, his shoulders loosened slightly.
He stepped aside and revealed people waiting outside the open door. Lark and Sera whispered to each other in the corridor, their expressions serious. A glimpse of the blue and black feathers revealed Ravi and Talo were there, but possibly talking to others.
Was that a flash of red hair?
Clarke peeked around the doorframe, saw River staring, and gave a hesitant wave. An enormous, masculine hand appeared above her head, dropped, and tugged her back out of view.
Two smaller red heads appeared lower.
“Fuck.” Rush’s grunt came seconds before the twins raced inside, squealing hurricanes.
“Uncle Wiver!”
Holly leaped onto Blake’s bed with surprising nimbleness, considering one thumb was in her mouth. Hazel sniffed around the bed for a bit before climbing on.
Holly popped her thumb out of her mouth. “Mom said you’re going to tell us stories.”
“Are you?” Hazel demanded.
“Yeah,” River said. “I am.”
The girls hissed, “Yes.”
Emotion clogged his throat. Before he knew it, he was grinning, which was ridiculous considering the situation. But he wasn’t alone.
Neither was Blake.
And that felt so fucking good.
He waved everyone in. “Find a seat, mouse-munchers. Storytime’s about to begin.”
Hushed questions multiplied as they filed into the room and crowded around the bed with worried looks. River made sure they left a spot for Cloud, even if he didn’t take it. As his friends and family settled, he pulled out a folded note from his rear pocket.
