Page 18 of Taming Raptor

As I sat unmoving, I glanced down and saw my rolled T-shirt peeking out from under the bush.

Shit.

“You see anything?” one of the officers asked the other.

“Nope. Sure as fuck smell that weed, though.”

Their light beams scanned the area once more and then the other one hit the button for the radio on his shoulder. His booted toe rested against the end of my rolled black T-shirt and I held my breath.

“No sign of anyone. Likely, it was some kids hiding over along the trees smoking. They must’ve cleared out.”

When they turned on their heels and made their way back to their cruiser, I could finally drag oxygen into my starved lungs. Of course, I realized how dumb that was because even if they heard me breathe or move, they would’ve only seen a large hawk perched in the tree. Once I was certain they were gone, I swooped down, grabbed the bundle and my powerful wings drove me higher.

Sloppy, Adrien.

And I repeat… shut up.

At first, I may have been awkward and unsure, but it wasn’t long before I soared above the rooftops and trees. My hawk’s contentment hummed through every fiber of our being. Streets bustled with the nightlife crowd. Laughter and the drone of voices lifted up to where I flew, but no one paid attention to an oversized bird flying high above them in the night sky. The more I flew the more relaxed and at peace I was.

After the streetlights became few and far between, I gave in to the hawk side of me. Exhilarated, we dove and climbed. As I coasted for a moment, a gust of wind ruffled my feathers and I was pushed slightly off-course, but I quickly corrected. There was nothing I could compare to the feeling of flying and it wasn’t long before I had to admit that I missed it.

Told you.

Because I was so happy, I didn’t put up much of an argument. Basking in the freedom, I wondered why I’d denied myself this feeling for so long.

My inner hawk cheered at my revelation.

As if I was on autopilot, I worked my way to my destination. Lost in my head, before I knew it, I passed over the high fence. It surrounded the over four-thousand acres that made up the Triple Kettle Ranch. Though it was far more than a ranch. To the outside world, and from above, it appeared to be a fully operational ranch, complete with livestock and crops. It was actually a self-sustaining community that my great-great-grandfather had established to keep our clan safe.

It was home.

Suddenly, I could sense I wasn’t alone. Being away for so long, I had no idea who might be assigned to the watch.

Several hawks swooped in, and one essentially shouldered me, sending me tumbling for a moment. The watch had found me. It was good to know they were still so disciplined. Another dove at me but in my head I heard one of them shout, “Malachi! Stop!”

Immediately the bird changed course. Malachi? Surely that wasn’t June Wilmington’s youngest.

“Adrien?”

The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I wracked my brain to determine who it was. It was nearly impossible in the dark—then again, even in daylight I might not recognize everyone after all these years. What I did know was that they were not kin to me, as they didn’t have my family’s markings.

I could’ve fucked with them and possibly made it to the house before they caught me, but I decided I better not. It had been years since I’d been in hawk form. Despite my time at the gym, as a hawk I likely wasn’t in the same shape as before. Unsure of who they were, though they had recognized me, my hawk and I replied “yes.” Then I started the swooping spiral with them known as a kettle. It was where the ranch had gotten its name. The “Triple” was for my ancestor’s three sons.

The entire way, they flanked me until I landed with a thud on the wooden porch. “I’m not going to stand here naked in front of all of you. You have a watch to maintain,” I instructed the other hawks hovering above the house. They laughed and one landed in the yard, its sharp gaze on me.

“You’ve been gone longer than I realized if you’re afraid to transition in front of us.” It was the same hawk that had called my name. I cocked my head and eyed him quizzically.

The front door flew open. “Adrien!” my mother cried and dropped to her knees by my side. Realizing another hawk was in the yard, she made a shooing motion. “Drago! Go back to your watch!”

My heart ached at the knowledge that my childhood best friend was right before me, and I hadn’t recognized him. Truthfully, I had missed him during my self-imposed exile.

“I’ll see you around,” he told me before he took off. “Hector! Wait up!” he called out as he flew higher.

“Please don’t leave,” Mom begged. I shook my head. She placed one splayed hand over her chest and the other over her mouth as tears welled in her dark brown eyes. “Come in when you’re ready.”

The second she cleared the threshold, I transitioned back to my human form wincing at the agony that shot through me. Gasping, I rested my hands on my knees until it subsided. Once I could move without stabbing pain, I dressed in my clothes and grabbed my phone from the solid, but worn wood under my feet.

I went in and Mom immediately handed me a pair of jeans. “They’re your father’s. You look to be close in size, though they may be a bit big on you. You look like you’ve been starving yourself.”

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