Page 31 of Lana Pecherczyk
“This is nothing but a nuisance. I’m learning to block it.”
“You males are all stubborn idiots.”
“And?”
A huff of annoyance. “Did my darling mate teach you how to block your emotions from her?”
“Maybe.”
That explained his random, muffled emotions.
“I doubt it.” Another huff and rustling. “He knows better than to meddle.”
“The sooner we separate our emotions, the faster we carry on with our lives.”
“Oh, and I suppose you taught Blake how to block her feelings from you?”
Silence. Then: “She doesn’t need to be stuck with someone like me.”
“I’m sure you’ve asked her what she needs.” More shuffling and a curtain drawing. “Alright, you know the drill.”
“Strip. Shift. Sit?”
“Tonight onGuardian’s Anatomy…”
Blake’s hand cupped her mouth to hide her snort of amusement. She loved watching Grey’s Anatomy. That she’d never see a series finale was a travesty.
“What?” River asked.
“God, I miss TV.” Ada sighed. “And I miss people who get the jokes. Trix was too busy being a brainiac in our time to watch Grey’s.”
“Um. Okay.”
This sounded like a private examination. Blake should leave, but the only path back to her bay passed directly by River’s bay, or it was back to the bathroom.
And she kind of wanted to talk about Grey’s.
River’s apprehension and something sharp and electric slammed into her without warning. If pain were an emotion, that might be it. Despite his claims about blocking, he wasn’t doing a good job. Maybe he was injured.
She caught herself feeling concerned, then shook it off, fingers digging into her palm. He didn’t deserve her sympathy, not after how he’d treated her.
Just go out there. He was the rude cunt, not her. Why should she rearrange her life to avoid him?
She pushed forward before she chickened out, but froze upon entering the room. Three healing bays filled the small, brightly lit space. Hers was farthest away. The middle was empty. River and Ada occupied the third directly in front of Blake. The curtainwas only partly closed, perhaps because they’d assumed she was out exploring. No other patients had arrived since Blake.
Through the gap, she glimpsed a slumped muscular back. She gasped, her eyes widening at the great wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. Blue and black feathers glistened with an iridescent sheen, catching the ambient light in hypnotic patterns. Some primal part of her brain recognized their magnificence even as her rational mind struggled to process what she saw.
Wings.
No one had mentioned anything about River having wings. Come to think of it, she might have heard them call him a crow once or twice, but she thought it was just a weird insult. Ada’s husband could shift into a wolf. Was River a crow shifter? Claws had sprouted from his fingertips. Her mind flashed to the crows following her at the markets, and she wondered if they shifted into a human form, too.
Her train of thought shattered when River’s taut, naked buttocks flexed as he adjusted in his seat. Ada, impervious to the nudity, inspected his legs and then a patchy wing with clinical precision. Her hands hovered, but she didn’t touch the majestic feathers. She asked questions about stiffness and flexibility, to which River replied with an innuendo. His tone didn’t quite have the same mocking punch as usual. He almost sounded … vulnerable.
“Flex again?” Ada asked, leaning back to make room. His wing barely opened, but it wasn’t because of an injury. The bay was too small. Blake bet a single wingspan would cover all three bays if the curtains were opened. Two open wings…
She supposed wings carrying a body like his would need the breadth and strength.
Ada crouched to inspect the patchy, less full wing more closely. Blake caught her flattened lips in profile when she peeled up a few short feathers.
