Page 42 of Hooded (Gladiators of the Gryn #5)

FERN

I stretch out on the bed. Melodious chirps filter into the nest from the forest outside, singing coming from the half bird, half bat creatures, some brightly colored, some a plain brown or green, which call this place their home. None of whom are bothered in the slightest by the large predator now in their midst.

Sitting up, I run my hand over my stomach. It looks like Gryn babies are big. They have to be given how much I’ve grown in a short time. Unless, of course, the Fenere were correct and I’m going to give birth in the next two nova-months. I shouldn’t shudder, but I do. It terrifies me and excites me at the same time.

There’s no sign of Klynn in the main body of the nest or in the small sanitary area he has installed, which I use with a long sigh of relief. He has talked about creating a bath extension, and I agreed readily. Not only have I discovered watching Klynn bathe is probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen, water splashing everywhere as he dips his wings and shakes it through his feathers, a look of extreme concentration on his face, but the thought of being up to my chin in hot water is blissful.

However, right now, the nest is empty. I pull on my jacket as I walk out through the open door into the sunlight filtering through the leafy forest canopy. Klynn is most likely either making tweaks to his nest or considering how he can improve it in the early spring-like seasonal weather.

I might tell him I love his nest every single day, but he’s still not happy. He still thinks it could be ‘better’ and I don’t know how to convince him it is.

I want him to be happy, and I wish I knew how to do it. Seeing his sad, brooding face as he stares up at the tremendous place he’s created for us makes my heart twist in my chest. All I want to do is soothe him until he sees what a fantastic male he is.

But there’s no huge feathered male outside either. My stomach dips as I recall the last time he went missing. What he turned up with and dumped at my feet had been alive…once. Bright blue blood smeared his chest, and his smile was more of a grimace.

Klynn had hunted. I’m not entirely sure if he understood exactly what he was doing, but the present he brought back to me wasn’t something I could receive with much good grace, especially as it turned my stomach.

He’s hunted since but has refrained from bringing me his prizes, instead returning to the nest with a sheepish look and no appetite.

He is what he is. I wouldn’t change him for all the males in the galaxy. Klynn wears all his emotions on his sleeve (if he wore sleeves) and is as open as a book. It already makes him superior to any human men, with all their repressions.

I circle the nest, enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin and the whisper of the breeze overhead. The entire place is very clearly Klynn-free. I can’t exactly shake the feeling something isn’t right.

He doesn’t leave. Klynn wouldn’t leave. Even in the midst of a nest building frenzy, he makes sure he checks in on me, taking me into his arms, inhaling over my hair, and pressing his body against mine in a way reminiscent of scent marking.

But the nest and the clearing around it are distinctly Klynn-free.

I know he can take care of himself. He’s probably one of the largest creatures on this benign planet, but even so, I worry he’s somehow got himself into trouble.

I have a suspicion trouble has probably always followed him.

Taking a seat on a low mossy shelf in the sun behind the nest, I attempt to tell my heart and stomach there is nothing to worry about.

Klynn can look after himself. I can look after myself. We’re badasses who escaped the Tormelek.

There’s a snap in the forest, a twig breaking as a foot presses on it. I spin off the ledge and pull out the pulsar from my pocket, sending a silent thanks to the past version of who thought it was a sensible place to keep the weapon. I might be really very pregnant but I’m not going down without a fight.

I watch through the struts which hold up the platform on which the nest is built until I see movement. Something is coming through the woods, circling the nest. Something which isn’t Klynn because there is no swish of feathers and his footsteps are heavy and purposeful.

Because he has nothing to be afraid of in the entire galaxy.

Keeping as low as my stomach will let me, I make my way around the nest to the front. As I get closer, I spot a dark shape standing near the entrance.

“Don’t move. I’m armed,” I say, straightening up and holding the pulsar steady.

At least until I see our visitor is a female Fenere.

“?” she queries.

I furrow my brow. I’ve not met this female before. Not at the medi-center or in our infrequent visits to the local stores.

“Do I know you?” I query.

“No, you don’t. I’m so sorry.” She wrings her little paws together. “My mate shouldn’t have done what he did, and I wanted to come to you to explain.”

“Done what?” Lead settles in my feet, making it so I cannot move from my current spot.

“Lured your Gryn away.”

The lead sits in my stomach and hands, meaning I can no longer hold the pulsar up. It swings at my side instead.

“Where is Klynn?” It doesn’t sound like I’m saying the words. It’s as if they’re coming from someone else, far away.

“He didn’t mean it, but the Varangy, they said they would seed our clouds with crop destroying poison if we didn’t comply. My mate is weak. He believed them. I’m so sorry, . They took your Gryn away.”

And in those words, my spirit dies.