I bit my lip before I blurted out that I was already very familiar with Dalsharan's scent. Dal cocked his head at me as if he knew what I was thinking.
“Turn around Dal.” Greskal smacked his wing down. “Look at his tail feathers, Ravyn. See the spread of them?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said because he seemed to need some confirmation that I was listening. “Checking out the Hawk Lord tail right now.”
Dalsharan made a reproving kee-ah sound. I grinned.
“Take a good look at everything,” Greskal chose to ignore us. “In fact, come over here and stroke his feathers. Get a feel of him too.”
“Yes, Sir!” I said eagerly.
I got up and went to thoroughly inspect the Hawk Lord. Hey, if I was being told to gawk and feel, I was going to take the opportunity to really gawk and feel. I stepped up to my lover and laid a hand on his rounded breast. He towered over me, I could tuck my head beneath the swell of that feathered chest. His legs were about the same length as they were in his other form, but on top of them was a bird body that stood at least fifteen feet tall.
Dalsharan lowered his head to focus on me with one golden eye. “Having fun?”
“Yep.” I grinned as I stroked my way beneath a wing and then drew my hand along the underside of it.
Dalsharan shivered, his feathers rustling. “That's sensitive. It's like drawing your fingertips beneath my arm.”
“Is it?” I slipped my hand up to the top of his wing and then stepped behind him to stroke the longest feathers.
“Those are the primary feathers,” Greskal supplied. “The shorter ones just above them are the primary coverts.”
“And these?” I asked as I moved inward along his outstretched wing.
“The secondaries and above those are the greater, median, and lesser secondaries.”
Greskal continued to list the names of every bit of feather I touched as I moved down Dal's back—excuse me, his mantle and then his back—and over to the other wing. Dal's head swiveled to watch me. Was it wrong that I wanted to crawl under his wing and take a nap?
“Do you think you have it?” Greskal asked.
“Huh?” I looked at the teacher. “Ah, yeah. I think I can imagine him now.”
“Good, resume your seat.” Greskal waved a hand at the mat, then sat himself.
I sat in front of him, facing Dal so I could see him if I needed to.
“Now, close your eyes and picture the Hawk,” Greskal instructed.
I closed my eyes and saw the Hawk Lord clearly. Every feather, every color, every claw.
“Do you have him?”
“Oh, yeah. I have him,” I drawled.
Dal snorted through his beak.
“Now breathe him in. Remember the feel of his feathers. Get the whole picture settled in your mind.”
“Got it,” I said.
“Good, good. Now, all you need to do is believe that the image you're looking at is you.”
“Believe he's me?” I cracked an eye open.
“Close your eyes!” Greskal reprimanded me.
I shut my eyes.
“Picture him. Smell him. Feel him.”
“Picturing, smelling, feeling,” I muttered.
“Now, believe it's you.”
“Believing...” I squished my eyes up tightly and believed. Or at least I tried to believe. How the fuck do you believe that you're a bird? I squished my entire face.
“Keep trying. Don't force it, just feel it,” Greskal advised. “Somewhere inside you is the magic. Your hawk is just waiting for you to call it forth. To believe in it. Believe in the Hawk Lord. Believe in his magic inside you. Believe that you are now holding a piece of him and that piece will give you the sky.”
And I believed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Four hours later, my belief still hadn't given me shit. We finally gave up for the day. Greskal took us into his office and went to fetch some mugs of tea as Dal and I relaxed near his fireplace. While he was gone, I whined. Because I'm a stubborn rebel.
“Believe,” I grumbled. “I'm never gonna be a real Hawk.”
“You are a real Hawk,” Dalsharan said gently as he nudged me with his shoulder. “This is not going to happen in one day, Ravyn. You were a human for all your life. It's hard for that side of you to let go of the earth and release itself to the sky.”
“How long did Mathias take to shift?” I asked.
“Twenty days.”
“Twenty days?!” I shrieked. “I have to go through nineteen more days of sitting on my ass picturing you and believing you're me?”
“You never know.” He patted my shoulder consolingly.
I started to smile.
But then he continued, “It could take longer.”
I punched Dal in the arm, and he chortled.
“Eh, now. No roughhousing,” Greskal chided as he came in with a tray of cookies and tea.
“Cookies?” I sat up straight. “Are those cookies?”
“This is your reward for training hard.” Greskal set the tray down on his desk and passed out the mugs before waving me toward the plate of cookies. “Young Hawks always get tea and cookies after their lessons.”
“I haven't had a cookie since I was sixteen!” I exclaimed as I reached for one.
Greskal gave me a strange look. “And how old are you now, lad?”
“Twenty-six,” I said before I stuck the cookie in my mouth and chewed in bliss.
“You haven't had a cookie in ten years?” Greskal asked as if this were the greatest tragedy he'd ever heard.
“I joined the Hawk Army at sixteen,” I explained after my first swallow. “They don't give soldiers cookies. Because we're already tough cookies.” I chuckled at my own joke and took another bite of my cookie. Warm, soft, chocolate chip cookie.
Greskal looked at Dalsharan as if the cookie shortage in the Hawk Army were all his fault.
“They're soldiers,” Dal huffed. “They get paid. They can buy their own damn cookies.”
“That's true,” I defended him. “I just don't like leaving camp.”
“Why ever not?” Greskal asked.
Dalsharan looked at me too.
I shrugged and shoved more cookie in my mouth.