Page 24 of Lana Pecherczyk
It hurt Manfri that his friend wouldn’t share his adventures. They were supposed to share everything, forever, like they used to.
He scooped up his breeches and shoved his wet, dirty legs inside, but his feet snagged. He grumbled and pushed harder. He took a moment to calm down before trying again. His shirt came next. Finally dressed, he turned to his best friend and said, “I don’t understand why you can’t tell me, cuz. It’s not like I’ll blab to anyone.”
“You don’t get it.” Cielo sighed as he finished dressing.
“So, help me get it. Is she beautiful?”
“I can’t.” Cielo’s wings snapped out, spraying water and sand. He tugged his split shirt over his head, accommodated his wings through the flaps, and buttoned them at the waist. “At least … not yet.”
The crafty and handsome crow was conflicted, but a layer of that peace still existed in his eyes. How could Manfri be angry if his friend was happy?
“Just tell me this: is she a diamond?”
Their gazes clashed. Cielo nodded.
Manfri kicked a pebble. “Who will do this shit with me now, then?”
“For Crimson’s sake, Mannie, I’m not dead.”
“But you’ll leave me for a pretty pussy that probably tastes like the sweetest honey…” His words trailed off as he caught Cielo’s dreamy, self-satisfied expression. “Fuck off. You’ve already tasted her, haven’t you?”
Cielo hid his smirk by walking away.
Manfri chased after him. “Does she have a friend?”
“No.”
“Crows before hoes.”
“Why do you think I jumped in after you?”
“You did.” He chuckled. “Fucking dumbass.”
Manfri almost bumped into wings as Cielo stopped. He faced Manfri, opened his mouth, and then shut it. The emotionin his eyes was sobering. Manfri knew precisely what his friend wanted to say.
This bond they shared was more than kettle loyalty. More than the murder. It was looking into your friend’s eyes and not needing to say a thing because they knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was knowing that no matter how much time passed or what mess they were in, they’d circle back home if they needed each other.
It was never being alone.
Manfri shoved Cielo’s shoulder. “My feet hit the water first.”
“What?”
“Bro.” His tone was admonishing, but his eyes twinkled. “My feet hit the water first. Ergo, you are the loser.”
Cielo looked east … to where, beyond the forest, dark canyon spires pierced the sky like jagged swords. Somewhere in that shrouded place lived the Collector—a vicious fae more crow than man. Or so they’d been told. No one had ever seen him. Only heard stories.
Ice skated down Manfri’s spine.
“They say he’s got claws so long,” he whispered, “that they’ll pierce through your heart to the other side.”
“I heard he has no hands, just wings, feet, and a beak.”
“I heard he’s covered in feathers from head to toe.”
“Cool.” Cielo’s brows winged up.
“Not cool. Can you imagine if your dick was feathered?”
