It rained today. I awoke to putter patter of raindrops on the caravan’s roof. My first thought was Cy’s concert would be canceled. I shook him wondered already thinking of a water mage I knew who owned me a favor. Opening one groggy green eye, Cy read my face.

“Stop ruffling your feathers birdbrain. Even a tempest wouldn’t stop this performance,” Cyan said.

Playfully I whacked his eager hands away. He grabbed me and rolled me beneath his weight. Then he felt back asleep crushing me in a good way. Of course a water nymph performer wouldn’t be bothered by rain.

As a counselor I knew I was worried about more than the weather. Cy’s immediate family loved me but the nymph community was very insular. I knew the traditionalists were critiquing Cy because we’re mated. Even among the shifters some disparaged shifter-nymph mating and shifters screwed everybody. I worried the critics were sharpening their nibs.

“Your anxiety is flooding our bond, Rave. I was dreaming of floating on an actual ice cream float and now I have ink in my mouth. What gives Chicken Little?”

Cy propped himself up on his forearms. His long hair framed his face. Our eyes connected in the dim morning light. Cy gave me is perpetual goofy grin. Then I could see my worry flitted across his face. With a wink, I transformed into my other self and flew. Part of me wanted to fly away from all of it: the nasty looks and sideways comments. I wanted to escape any hurt our love caused my love. Cawing out my frustration, I flapped around in awkward circles.

I landed on our headboard. Angry marching, I paced. Cyan rolled to his side. Watching, he picked up one of my feathers and blew it towards me. I cawed.

“Of course Ravenwood we can’t change the hateres but we could sleep in, eat pancakes, and enjoy each other in their faces,” he said.

Giving another barking cry, I hopped on the pillow.

“Okay French toast.”

I transformed back into a woman and was little spoon to his big spoon. Tonight’s show would be amazing and I’ll peck the eyes out of anyone who tears down my man.

“French toast with blackberries and whipped cream,” I said.

He snuggled into my hair in reply.