Free It Dreams in Me by Kathleen O’Neal Gear

two gobbling about?”
    Long Fin glanced around the circle, examining each woman’s expression. When his gaze returned to Wink, he whispered, “Mother, it’s too dangerous.”
    For the first time, Birch glanced at the doorway, then leaned forward to hiss, “He’s right. We’ll have to send a peace emissary first, and we can’t use any of our own people. You know that, don’t you? Sea Grass will be keeping track of every warrior we have.”
    Wink nodded. “I have an outsider in mind.”
    “An outsider? How can we trust an outsider?” Birch clutched her walking stick in both hands.
    “Well, he’s an outsider with an interest in the well-being of the Black Falcon Nation.”
    “Who?” Long Fin asked.
    Wink said, “Rockfish.”
    “Rockfish?” Wigeon blinked, still confused. “Chieftess Sora’s husband? What does he have to do with all this?”
    “Nothing,” Wink said. “Yet.”

11

    THE SENSATION OF THE BLANKETS BEING LIFTED, AND someone crawling beneath them with her, roused Sora from a deep dreamless sleep.
    Flint’s hand petted her long black hair. “Forgive me for today. But I couldn’t help it, Sora. I needed some time away from that priest.” He said the last word like a curse. “I swear he’s driving my reflection-soul out of my body.”
    Sleepily, she opened her eyes. Through a gap in the roof, high above her, tree branches whipped in the wind and stars glittered on a deep blue background. “I was worried about you. Where did you go?”
    “Not far. I just walked along the shoreline until some of my anger went away.”
    A fierce gust of wind thrashed the forest’s ancient cypresses, and she drew the worn softness of the blankets up over her bare shoulders. The scent of the lake was powerful tonight, something more than moss and water. In the distance she saw
lightning flash. The roar of diving Thunderbirds rumbled across the sky.
    Flint looked up at the crude shelter built of poles and rotted thatch that had once formed the walls and roof on the old lodge. “There are holes in this roof big enough for a buzzard to fly through. If it starts to rain again, we’ll get soaked.”
    “By the time we started building shelters, it was dark. We did the best we could.” She rolled to her back and yawned.
    Flint turned toward Strongheart’s shelter five paces away, making certain the priest was asleep. He smoothed his hand over her naked hip, and ran it up her side to stroke her breast. As he squeezed it, he whispered, “I need to talk with you.”
    She yawned again. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
    “No.”
    He bent down to kiss her, and his black hair fell around her like a dark silken curtain. The tenderness of his lips felt as comforting tonight as it had eighteen winters ago.
    “What’s wrong?”
    He rolled on top of her, and she felt his rigid manhood. A tingle shot through her. “I think he’s plotting against you.”
    “Who is?”
    Flint lowered his hand and caressed her little manhood. “The priest.”
    “Why would he do that, Flint?”
    “Our people destroyed his village and murdered his family. That’s reason enough. His people would consider him a hero if he killed you.”
    “He hasn’t made a single move against me, Flint.”
    “Of course not. I’ve been watching him too closely.”
    He kissed her hard and inserted two fingers into her opening. They moved gently at first, then probed deeper. In less than ten heartbeats, he used his knee to pry her legs apart and slipped his manhood inside her. A groan escaped his throat. In
the starlight, she saw the expression of ecstasy on his handsome face. When he began moving, she matched his rhythm.
    In her ear, he whispered, “What did he say to you today? After I left.”
    “Nothing important.”
    He thrust harder, striking fire along her nerves. “He told you to get rid of me, didn’t he? He knows that as soon as I’m gone, he can kill you. There will be no one to stop him.”
    Warmth began to course through her