Nobody could fail to see how much Sister Madeleine would surely strengthen her, as the other Stormhorses were strengthened by their humans. Hæra must at least be allowed to prove her worth, even if the herd required more trials of her than they did of the males. She’d get her wings before Asgall’s and Beathag’s disbelieving eyes.

And Sister Madeleine would be with her, inside her, the entire time.

Keeping her eyes on the seawall, dock, and shore, Hæra remembered their mouths touching. She remembered all of it.

Sister Madeleine had tried to embrace her. It had been too much, and Hæra had had to hold her down. If Sister Madeleine had touched her, something would have happened. Hæra didn’t know what, but it would have made it much harder to change back out of that human form.

Now, in her true form, Hæra could remember it with bemusement. At the time, her human body had been consumed by Sister Madeleine, much as she now wanted the reverse. Her blood had tasted divine, but Hæra could never have dreamed that her mouth would taste even better. And why had all that soggy cloth been bunched up between them? She knew humans wore clothes, but surely it would have felt more natural for Sister Madeleine to have been equally bare beneath Hæra’s own body.

But again, that might have brought complications. Might have made Hæra feel…reluctant to change back.

This was a little worrisome. Hæra’s job was not to touch Sister Madeleine with her mouth—or at least not to stop there. But how strangely disturbing it was to know that after Hæra ate her, Sister Madeleine would be no more: she’d walk along no more beaches, never again speak with that husky voice. And never again would her perfect scent carry along the wind.

They’d never get a chance to talk.

Hæra shook her head irritably, snorting up bubbles. What useless thoughts. She didn’t need a conversation with Sister Madeleine. She already had something of her: the string of wooden beads that ended with the cross-shaped thing. Even Hæra recognized that cross. It had been part of human culture around here for so long that the herd had all sorts of theories about what it meant.

The beads now lay in the ancient chest she kept secreted away at the base of one of the cliffs.

She and Asgall had found the chest when he was a colt and she still a foal. He’d made so much fun of the object that she’d realized he wanted it. Even at that age she’d known to be wary when Asgall wanted things. He usually found a way to hurt her with them.