Farfall by J. C. Owens

Author:J. C. Owens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: M/M Romance
ISBN: 978-1-947135-49-9
Publisher: Etopia Press
Published: 2017-12-23T05:00:00+00:00

Andon felt Ceris’s concern when the huge warning bell rang for an incoming sandstorm. He had been fixing one of his shirts while they lazed in the noonday sun just outside the wing house. He looked up, frowning as he realized the wind indicator was showing the storm to be quite powerful, unusual at this time of year.

Ceris rose to her feet, a hum rising in her throat, a sign of worry.

“They have not returned. They are late.” Her mane was beginning to bristle with the force of her emotions.

Andon went to her, tangling his hand in her neck fur. “They will hunker down somewhere. All of them are good fliers and sensible.”

She paced, pulling away from him, drinking in the scents on the wind. “No smell at all. They are far away.”

Andon felt worry of his own. They should have been back at least two hours ago. That time would fluctuate only if something had happened, either a storm, such as was coming—or an attack.

He stiffened, remembering the terrible day Vren had not returned, the search party that had been sent, that he had been part of. Finding remains…

He thrust the horrific images out of his thoughts with difficulty.

Now, the two wings, one from Farfall and the other the Anisstor riders, were missing. His heart began to pound, the past overlaying the present.

They would be fine, safe.

Nobody had believed that anything was wrong when Vren’s wing had been late either.

“Something is wrong. They are not safe.” Ceris’s emotions were fuelling his own, his breath beginning to quicken.

As though a dam opened, his connection to Ceris blew fully open once more, and her conviction flowed over him.

Something had gone wrong. Somewhere, out in that storm, Gretnel and Daren…

Images of Vren’s torn body overwhelmed him, and he choked back rising fear.

With grim determination, he turned and retreated back into the wing house, lips thinned. He changed swiftly into riding leathers and found his helmet with the sand visor. He filled a pack with supplies that might be needed, then headed outside.

Other riders were gathering near the landing site, talking among themselves, nervously eyeing the sky. Obviously they too were linking this to the disaster that had befallen Vren’s wing.

They turned as they spotted Andon and Ceris, eyes widening as they saw him fling the pack over his shoulders and scramble up her shoulder.

Vatner strode out of their midst, anger and worry twined in his expression. “What in the hells do you think you—”

Ceris sprang into the air, her powerful wings driving them upward with astonishing speed. Andon was left gasping. It was rare that she used her full speed, knowing how it affected him, but today her drive to find her mate was pushing her to extremes.

Higher, higher.

Andon lay against her neck, fingers twined into her mane with whitened knuckles, his face buried in the fur as the force of the wind tore at him, stinging his cheeks and forcing him to close his eyes until he pulled his goggles into place.

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