Time was running out. The shaman had warned her; the visions returned night after night; the turning of the hour glass, sand slipping away, dripping away in dealings of the days, the mere moments she had left. If she didn’t find the cure, the transformation would be complete in less than 2 weeks. Her human body would shed forever, and she would forever take on the red-hawks form.

She’d known her fate her whole life, her time had always been limited, counted, measured. Her clansmen had told her not to worry; she would be paired, love would ensue. Hawks mate for life; her curse would long be broken before her 40^th year. How could Storm Hawk know or foresee that while out hunting, her entire clan would be slaughtered by a neighboring clan. She had been 25.

She spent the next 10 years searching for someone to fill the emptiness in her soul, to answer questions she sought. She thought she had found the answer, she thought she had found the one mortal that might break her of this curse, but even after 2 years she still transformed into her hawk form night after night.

Now 2 weeks before her 40^th year, standing on the precipice of not only her life but a stony beach, she searched out over the crashing waves, thinking about the latest … the latest what? Conquest? Fuck? Hell, she didn’t know what he was. What she did know was how her body responded to his touch.

She thought back to the previous evening. She had walked into his bedroom, she felt his presence behind him, but before she could turn, he blindfolded. He slipped her gown from her shoulders where it easily dropped to the floor. He huskily whispered in for her to crawl across the bed, sending shivers down her spine. When she had reached the head board, he grabbed her ankles and flipped her over in one swift movement. She remembers how she gasped for air.

After hours of domination, control, heat, every muscle in her body had ached in sheer pleasure and ecstasy. In her life, no one had reached her mind, her body, her core. She remember his body pressed so hard against hers she felt like they would meld together; his mouth so hot, so sweet. Her nipples were aching in the memories. He hadn’t just fucked her, right? He had made love, too? No one does that without some kind of passion.

Unfortunately, for both of them, Storm Hawk, and this new “friend” neither believed in love. Certainly, she didn’t and the transformation night after night confirmed it.  The clouds were parting and the moon was escaping from its shadowy domain, and she felt her bones beginning to crack….. Two more week, only two more weeks.

A screech escapes as a red hawk flies over the ocean across the shadow of the moon. 

He thinks the chains can bind her. That somehow they will allow him to posses, own her. He can force himself upon her, take her body, make her moan in ecstasy. She can hungrily cry out begging for more. The pleasure , the heat, the moisture crashes over her like waves upon the surf. His bodily pleasure is unending; she could almost forget the years of pain, almost forget the years of neglect. She could almost lose herself in this amazing heated embrace... Almost... Almost.

Eventually, he will spill his seed into her and then the power has shifted, the power has become hers. The physical bond will be broken and the magical spell lifted.
Chains crash to the floor, sirens screech pierce the hallows of the echoing halls. Her wings raise her powerful body above his "Power is not in the control of the body, but in the control of the mind". 
She beats her wings harder, debris flying through the cave, he cover his face to protect himself from the talons that have escaped from her limbs, but she ignores the man at her feet, for he too has long forgotten of what mystical creatures hold true. "love is the only binding agent; it is the only strength and it is the only weakness." Storm Hawk takes her escape across the winter milky moon.

Seredipity StormHawk leaves the warm sheets, the strength of his sleeping embrace. His scents still lingers on her skin as the cool night air raises the hairs across her neck and torso. Her breasts tighten again.

She walks across the yard staring up at the calling of the moon knowing he would run if he knew the animal she sheltered inside. She looks through the glass door at his chiseled, tattooed firm form. His heat is raising from him in ultraray glow. Her hunger for his touch, his mouth, his heat and his own hunger is overwhelming.

She knows he could break this nightmare wake her from this incessant waking dream that haunts her life, but the damage she carries the storm within her will never be released. 
She changes form, bones break and crack. She takes flight to the nearest tree branch where she screeches out into the night. She takes one glance back but doesnt notice his waking form watch the hawk shadow race across the moonlight.