← Samuel the Rogue: Where the Feathers Fall

Chapter 6: Emerald Nest

Chapter 6: Emerald Nest

I woke under Aeolin’s wing, with sunlight filtering through a canopy of emerald feathers, my body one big dull ache rather than the screaming agony I remembered. Progress, I guess. The nest, which I supposed was Aeolin’s, was surprisingly comfortable, lined with moss and loose feathers that cushioned every bruise I had. I’d been here, what, three days? Four? The days had run together into fever dreams and Aeolin’s hands tending my wounds.

My bare skin prickled in the cool air. I still had my pants, and they were clean now, though I didn’t remember cleaning them. Aeolin must’ve done it while I was out, and I tried not to picture him peeling them off me. My tunic was gone, and my boots, too.

I tested my limbs cautiously. Everything still worked, though my chest pulled tight where the panther’s claws had raked me open. The wound was healing, thanks to whatever magic Aeolin had worked on me. I figured it was some harpy saliva thing, and I tried not to think too hard about that part.

“You’re awake.” Aeolin folded his wing back off me, got up and stepped to the edge of the nest. He stood there, a silhouette against the morning light, his feathers shining in the sun. He was naked, so I hadn’t dreamed that part up in my fever, and he was very obviously male, his body lean and wiry from his shoulders down to his talons. “And restless, I see.”

I pushed myself up to sitting, wincing. “I’ve never been good at lying around.”

“Most humans aren’t,” he said, sounding amused. “Though most humans wouldn’t have survived what you did.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. It was matted with sweat and gods know what else. I probably smelled like death warmed over. “I should thank you. For saving me. For... whatever you did to fix me up.”

Aeolin turned to face me fully, and I had to admit, again, that he was strange-looking and gorgeous at the same time. His face was almost human, with a small, boyish button nose that looked out of place on someone so wild. His bright green eyes practically glowed, which hardly seemed fair. The rest of him was harder to sort out: his chest was smooth like a man’s, yet his feet ended in sharp talons, and green wings folded against his back. His bare arms shimmered with a fine green fuzz, and a crown of feathers rose from his head. He looked like he could gut me with those feet, and that only made him prettier.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply. But his shoulders were tight, and he kept staring out past the edge of the nest.

I looked out past the edge too and saw nothing but leaves for miles. “Something wrong?”

He sighed. “I need to leave soon. This is my border post for the Aerie. It’s my duty to patrol, to keep predators away from our territory.”

“Like panthers?” I asked, thinking of my own recent encounter.

“Among other things. Though I’m at a disadvantage. My spear, symbol of my office, is... not in my possession.”

I frowned. “You lost it?”

“No,” he snapped. “It’s at my old roost. With Zephyra.” He spat the name out.

“Ex-mate?” I guessed.

Aeolin’s feathers ruffled. “Yes.”

I waited. Neither of us said anything for a while. I listened to the distant calls of jungle creatures and the rustle of leaves and picked at the moss so I wouldn’t fidget.

Finally, Aeolin spoke, his voice tight. “I found her with another. Ignis. A phoenix.”

“A phoenix?” I tried to picture one and couldn’t. The bestiary back in Willowbrook had only crude drawings, myths more than facts.

“Yes.” Aeolin picked at a loose feather on his arm. “I returned early from patrol. I thought I’d find her asleep. Or maybe waiting for me.”

He took a shaky breath. “Instead... I found her worshiping him.”

I swallowed hard.

“He was... magnificent,” Aeolin rasped. “He was all color. Too much of it. Golds and scarlets, blues and violets that shimmer when he moves. He had his wings fanned out like a peacock showing off, and the whole nest stank of him. Jasmine and sweat and rut.”

Aeolin’s talons curled into the woven rim of the nest so tightly that I figured he was pretending it was Ignis’s neck.

“She was on top of him,” he said. “Straddling him like a priestess. Her claws dug into his shoulders as she rolled her hips. It was deliberate. Like she wanted him to remember every second.”

“She was singing,” he said, pouting. “She never sang like that for me. Her crest was standing straight up and her feathers were dark with sweat. And his hands weren’t even touching her. He had them laced behind his head, smug and relaxed, like he’d already won.”

Aeolin’s wings sagged. “I’ve never seen anyone move like that. She bent so far back her breasts pointed at the sky, her hips slamming down on him like she couldn’t get enough of him.”

He looked away. “And when she finally got there? She screamed so loud the nest’s vines trembled. She shook all over. And that was when he finally gave in.”

I closed my eyes, and there was Maya, the flush on her cheeks and the way she’d thrown her head back while Brutus took her in the village square.

Aeolin exhaled, bitter. “He poured into her. Like he was marking his territory. It glowed, of course. Even his seed glows. It ran out of her when she collapsed on top of him, still shaking.”

I winced. That was a lot more vivid than I needed.

“She was radiant. Fucked senseless. She didn’t see me,” he added, quieter. “Until after. Until she lifted her head and saw me standing at the edge of the nest. And you know what she said?

“‘You’re early.’ Just that. No guilt. No shame. Like I’d interrupted her bath.”

“Fuck,” I whispered. “That’s... I’m sorry.”

Aeolin looked straight at me. “You understand,” he said.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. My girlfriend... ex-girlfriend, Maya. I found her with someone else too. A barbarian named Brutus.”

“Tell me,” Aeolin said. He walked over from the edge of the nest and sat down beside me, leaning back against the rim.

His feathered thigh brushed against my leg, and I had to fight the urge to cover my bare chest. Aeolin didn’t notice or didn’t care.

And so I did. I told him about Maya and Brutus in the square, and how she’d looked at me with pity while the whole village watched a bigger, stronger man take my place. “He was fucking huge,” I said, and my voice cracked on it, which was humiliating all over again. “His arms are thicker than my chest. And she was louder for him than she ever was for me.”

“And now?” Aeolin asked.

“She’s pregnant. With his kid. Everybody in Willowbrook knows it.”

“The whispers,” Aeolin said. “They follow you everywhere.”

“Poor Sam,” I mimicked, “too small to please her, too weak to keep her.”

Aeolin laughed, short and ugly. “I get the harpy version. Too dull to keep her next to living fire.”

We sat in silence for a moment, two dumped idiots in a tree. It was strange how much better that made me feel. This was the first time I’d told anyone about Maya since that day in the square.

“So,” I finally said, clearing my throat. “Your spear. It’s with her? With Zephyra?”

Aeolin nodded. “In our... her nest. I left in... something of a hurry. Without it, I cannot properly defend my territory. There are panthers and others... they grow bolder each day.”

He’d gone stiff all over, and I figured he was picturing Zephyra again. “I’ll come with you,” I said before I could stop myself. “She won’t be expecting two of us. I’m... I’m a rogue. I can be quiet. I can help you sneak in and get it.”

Aeolin blinked. “You’re still healing.”

“I’m well enough,” I insisted, even though sitting up had made my ribs ache. “And I owe you. For saving my life.”

He watched me for a long moment, his head tilted. “You’re serious.”

“I am. Let me help you.” I made myself hold his stare, which took some doing, because those green eyes were something else up close.

He smiled. “Your ‘rogue skills’ are that impressive, are they?”

I blushed. “Well, I wouldn’t say impressive, exactly. But I can be quiet when I need to be. And I’m good with my hands.” I winced at how that sounded. “I mean, for grabbing things. Stealthily.”

He stopped smiling. “It’s dangerous. More dangerous than you know. It’s... mating season in the Aerie. A time when normal rules and restraints... fall away. When instinct takes over.” His feathers ruffled. “It’s not a place for humans. Especially not injured ones.”

I thought about it for all of two seconds. “I’m still coming.”

Aeolin let out a long breath, and it sounded a lot like relief. “Very well. But stay close to me. Do exactly as I say. Understood?”

I nodded, already pushing myself to my feet, ignoring the pull across my chest. “When do we leave?”

“Now,” Aeolin said, spreading his wings. “Before I lose my nerve.”

I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs. The cool morning air raised goosebumps on my bare chest, and I realized again how unarmored I felt, shirtless, bootless, with nothing but my dagger, and about to fly into gods-knew-what. But Aeolin didn’t offer me anything more to wear. I guessed harpies didn’t think about that kind of thing.

*

“Don’t squirm,” Aeolin warned. “And don’t look down unless you have a strong stomach.”

Unlike when he’d rescued me, Aeolin didn’t cradle me in his arms this time. Instead, he gripped my shoulders with his powerful talons, hard enough to hurt a bit. I shivered, partly from fear and partly because I liked it more than I wanted to admit.

He beat his wings and lifted me off the floor of the nest. We burst up through the canopy into sunlight so bright it made me squint, and he flew deeper into the jungle, away from his border post. Up ahead, I saw it: the Aerie.

Holy fucking shit.

Aeolin’s warning had undersold it by a mile. The Aerie was an entire city built into the canopy, sprawling across hundreds of giant trees connected by vines and branches. And the whole city was having an orgy.

The air was filled with the sounds of slapping skin and guttural moans. Everywhere I looked, harpies were, well, fucking. There was no polite way to put it. They were fucking with an abandon that made my experiences in Willowbrook’s seediest tavern (we only had the one tavern) look like a temple social.

On a branch as wide as a road just below us, a writhing knot of bodies churned and heaved. It was a pile of limbs and wings, feathers and flesh, all slick with sweat. I could make out at least six harpies, maybe more, all tangled together and going at it hard, though I kept losing count because my eyes kept snagging on the wrong parts. Wings beat the air with every thrust, and talons scraped the bark.

Two males with blood slicked across their chests and fresh claw marks down their thighs grappled in mid-air and crashed down into the middle of the tangle. One tackled the other into the fork of the branch, talons digging in, teeth bared in a snarl that turned into a needy groan. For a second I honestly thought I was about to watch one of them kill the other.

Their lips clashed in a brutal kiss, biting and sucking, their wings beating frantically for balance, their cocks hard and glistening as they rutted against each other. A female shoved in between them with a cry and hooked her talons into both of them, her hips lifted shamelessly, demanding to be filled.

One male plunged into her from behind, claws gripping her hips, slamming into her. The other rose in front of her, guiding her mouth to his length. She took him eagerly, lips parted wide, throat straining as she swallowed more than should have been possible. I’d have choked to death. Her moans vibrated around him, every cry muffled by the cock stretching her mouth, every buck of her hips met by the pounding from behind.

They went at it like barnyard animals in spring, every one of them in step with the others and filthy as hell. The female’s wings flared out as she came, shuddering all over, juices spilling down her thighs. The males followed moments later, one grunting as he emptied himself deep inside her, the other gasping, spilling across her tongue, her cheeks, her chest.

Even after that they kept going, which felt like a personal insult to every man in Willowbrook, me included. They twisted around and dragged another harpy into the pile, and they all started up again while feathers flew and somebody yelped in surprise.

A female harpy flew past us with her back arched and a male clinging to her back, fucking her in mid-air while both of them flapped like crazy to stay aloft. Her eyes met mine for one startling moment, and she licked her lips at me while he pounded her. I went cold all over, and my dick got hard anyway.

The air smelled like sex, heavy and sweet, and it made me dizzy.

“What the actual fuck,” I muttered, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle.

Aeolin didn’t answer. He flew straight through the middle of it all. His talons tightened on my shoulders, a silent reminder to keep my mouth shut.

But it was impossible not to stare. A female harpy perched on a branch, surrounded by three males who took turns fucking her while she threw her head back and howled. Back home I couldn’t even keep one girl happy.

Nearby, two females were fucking in the open air, their bodies grinding together, moaning into each other’s mouths without a glance at anybody around them. I tried to look somewhere else, and there was nowhere else to look.

I’d never seen or even imagined anything like it. It was terrifying and fascinating and, gods help me, arousing as hell.

Aeolin flew higher, above the worst of it, but there was no escaping it entirely. The sounds followed us: cries of pleasure, the wet slap of bodies meeting, and the rustle of feathers, and my ears burned the whole way.

“Is it always like this?” I asked, and it came out as a squeak.

“Only during mating season,” Aeolin replied tersely. “Three weeks of this, once a year. The rest of the time, we’re quite civilized.”

I couldn’t imagine it... these same creatures who were now lost in a frenzy of lust, going about normal lives, having conversations, doing whatever it was harpies did when they weren’t... this.