Page 22 of Aryn

“Brilliant,” August says as Nyx opens the cage, not waiting for permission before he guides the animals to the ground. They nuzzle against him, chewing on his hair and clothes as he kneels to give them both hugs. After he talks to them in low whispers, he leads them toward the shade. They follow him obediently, nudging his side and munching on the hem of his shirt. Boomerang bounces excitedly at a distance, watching them with her nose in the air and trying to figure out exactly for herself what they are. As she follows with her tail wagging, it’s safe to assume she deems them friends.

I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “Well, I guess they’re tame.”

“It appears so,” Sovran answers with a grin of his own.

“I should… probably help with that,” Reyes says, flashing us an apologetic glance before he takes off after them. He’s already mumbling to himself about building a proper enclosure as he eyes the space near the greenhouse and the trees beyond.

A few more boxes are intended for the village. There are first aid supplies and medicines that are almost unheard of outside the cities. August is thrilled as he digs through the bottles of pills and bags of supplements, enlisting Elas’s help to carry everything to the storage building.

Soon everyone is sorting through goods and wandering off to put things away. Only the six of us remain at the van with Sovran and the last of the crates.

“That’s still a lot of stuff,” Cameron says.

“It is,” Sovran agrees. He pulls the largest one out and sets it on the ground in front of us. Inside are six identical large leather packs with thick padded straps and bundles of rolled fabric already clipped on with buckles. “Elyra is cold.”

“It was always colder than here,” Ronan says.

Sovran shakes his head, gesturing towards the supplies. “The weather you remember has long changed. The temperatures are extreme. It’s no longer a matter of being uncomfortable, it’s a matter of survival.”

“It’s that cold?” I ask skeptically.

“A few hours unprotected in the elements could shut your organs down. Your body will burn calories much faster than usual, and your limbs won’t be as agile. If you don’t prepare for it, you will die.”

“A simple yes would’ve been sufficient,” I mutter. Aryn tosses me a half-amused glance, trying to fight his smile. I guess he’s gotten over his hero worship of the golden pain in the ass.

Sovran ignores me and grabs another crate from the van. “None of us know how hard it will be to hunt or what edible plants have survived the weather. You’ll need to eat more than usual to keep your strength up, so you need to carry enough food to last between sources.” He pulls the lid off the crate to show a massive stack of industrial-wrapped meal replacement bars. “These are calorie dense and travel well. There are MREs underneath for when you’re able to stop.”

Lillith picks up one of the bars. It’s not any bigger than her palm and disappears completely as she closes her fingers around it. She chuckles as she opens her hand again. “This is only a snack.”

Sovran’s lips twitch as he watches her. “Two per meal for you then, perhaps.”

Lillith seems satisfied with that solution and lifts a pack. She spins it around, gesturing at the rolled bundle underneath. “What is this?”

Sovran helps her to unclip it and unrolls the long stretch of thick fabric. It’s lightweight, but the inside is lined with some sort of artificial fur. “These are the best sleeping bags available. They’re rated for extreme cold.” Lillith opens her mouth, but like he anticipates her question, he says, “Yes, they’re big enough. It took me a few days to source them, but these will serve you well.”

“Think we can both fit in there?” Lillith whispers loudly to Taryn, whose cheeks burn as she rests her head against Lillith’s shoulder with a sigh.

Ronan glances around at the group, then back into the van. “I don’t see a tent.”

“There isn’t one,” Sovran agrees. “Tents take up too much space. There are several tarps and ropes if natural shelter cannot be found.”

“Thank the gods,” Cameron drawls, nudging me with his elbow as he hikes a thumb toward his mate. “Can you imagine that one trying to build a tent? Damn thing would be ripped to shreds within ten minutes.”

Ronan crosses his arms, gesturing in my direction. “And you assume the brute would be any better at it?”

I flip Ronan off. “Absolutely not. I’m the first to admit I’d end up snapping it over my knee when I couldn’t get it to work. Aryn would be the hypothetical tent builder.”

Cameron nods. “Yep, agreed. Or Taryn. They’re the only ones I’d trust with my beauty sleep.”

Aryn tries to hide his smile, shooting Ronan an apologetic glance. “While I appreciate the vote of confidence, it sounds like it’s a moot point.”

“I guess,” Ronan grumbles.

Aryn focuses on Sovran as he purses his lips. “If the weather has gotten as extreme as you say, we’ll need plenty of protection from the elements. You’re sure these provide enough warmth? Ronan, Lillith, and I will adjust more easily, but the humans aren’t accustomed to the cold.”

“Are you worried about little ol’ me?” I ask, batting my lashes a few times.

Aryn’s tail flicks behind him as he meets my eyes, getting that confused furrow in his brows like he does at night after we train. It’s become our unintentional secret. Neither of us mentions it during the day, and we don’t discuss it afterward. He just prowls out of the darkness, grabs a sword, and joins me in the ring until we’re both sweating and exhausted.