Natural Instincts by M. Raiya Read Free Book Online Page A

probably slept at night, hidden from all eyes.
    I was so close to the tree trunk that I put out my left hand and caught it, halting my forward motion, without taking my eyes off the loon. He looked straight back at me. After a moment he swam closer.
    It was the nearest we’d been to each other yet. I gazed at him in awe. His feathers were like lacework. His head was dark green; his throat and breast were light with a dark band; his black back had flecks of white. But his eyes, his bright red eyes, burned. I’d never seen anything that spoke so much of age and strength and wisdom and… passion.
    He stopped at arm’s length and neither of us moved, except for the gentle rocking of the water that held us both.
    Without really thinking, I drew my phone from my pocket. I needed—wanted—I wasn’t sure. Quickly, I pulled up the camera. The loon watched me intently, not moving as I aimed at him and pressed with my thumb. Then I looked at the screen in my hand. There was the dark-haired man who’d made me think of the David . For an instant, I was distracted by his sleek, wet hair and long, lean body under the surface, but his dark eyes burned the same way the loon’s did. They had the same wildness. The same passion. The same—yearning? I wasn’t sure.
    I looked back at the loon, who hadn’t moved. I hesitated, then turned the screen to face him, to let him see. His red eyes flicked to it briefly, then returned to my face. He did not seem distressed, as he clearly had been when the woman had captured his likeness. I knew now what I’d needed to know.
    His trust in me was perfect. If I wanted to, I could offer mine in return.
    Did I want to? I slipped my phone away. His soul was a wild thing. What would that mean? I didn’t know.
    Taking it slowly, I held out my right hand.
    He flinched slightly, his instincts probably saying to keep his distance. But I held my hand still. Very warily, as though drawn by something powerful, he came closer. I didn’t move.
    He touched me first, a gentle poke against the back of my fingers with the point of his hard, smooth bill. I still didn’t move. He poked at me again and then turned his head into the curve of my palm. I’d never imagined anything as soft as the green feathers along the side of his head, his neck. They were almost too soft and light to even register against my skin, as though he weren’t part of the same world I was part of. Holding my breath, I let my fingers move ever so slightly against him, pressing just a little to find the solid strength of the body beneath them. Yes, he was firm and real.
    He tilted his head up. His eyes were expectant, as though he wanted me to do something. It took me a moment. Then I reached behind me with one hand and pulled the elastic off my hair. I gave it a shake and let it fall free around my shoulders, thick and wavy. Carefully, in case I’d misunderstood, I leaned over the gunwale, letting my hair hang down like a curtain. The ends touched the water.
    The loon stretched out his neck and pressed his head through my hair. I held my breath at the sheer sensuality of the sensation. I felt him touch my neck, felt the soft dampness of his feathers against my cheek as he combed his bill through the hair behind my ear. He smelled of clean water and fresh air. I imagined loons stroking each other like this. It felt good. Natural.
    I hesitated, then realized I’d made my decision without really having to think about it. I closed my eyes and let him touch me as he wished, claiming me as his in any way he chose.
    As though in a dream, I felt his touch change, but it was a few moments before I consciously registered that it was a warm, soft, human hand that stroked my closed eyelids, my lips. The canoe dipped slightly as he laid one arm along the gunwale and curved the other around my shoulders, pulling me close into a kiss. I tasted drops of water on his lips for just an instant; then I felt my mouth opening, his hand working through the