The moment he returned to his room, Luka Sullivan's first thought was to undress and let be but out of desire's control and within his own, he didn't. Incense drove the eagle to slam his fist into the door he had closed moments before, feeling the side of his fist throb immensely slow—resembling the flow of blood elsewhere. He knew perfectly where.

Furious with himself and yet weakened, once more, by the bouts of lust that lingered upon the sleeve of his shirt, Luka decided that a bath was due.

With great effort, he tore his eyes away from the bed, looking instead towards the private bathroom in which he and the vulture shared. The mere thought of Vaughn quelled his desires, allowing the eagle to turn the lock and begin to undress with a quiet mind.

Minutes passed.

Luka barely registered himself standing in the middle of the bathroom, staring into the reflection of his naked body. He caught a glimpse of unrest in the embers of his eyes—sparked once more by the scent that clung to his shirt, refusing to fade. His pupils sharpened to a gold, resembling the setting sun which only served to remind him of the rising moon.

Silver.

The eagle closed his eyes and leaned against the marble countertop, pausing to breathe. He felt the muscles on his back tense at the image in his mind, receiving more invitations which he knew he had to decline.

He stepped into the bath, forgetting to draw the curtains as he turned on the shower. Cold.

Although chilled by the startling drops of ice on his skin, Luka felt as though there was a cloud of heat filling the bath as the minutes passed, tempering with his head. It was hard to tell which part of the world was perceived and which, independent.

He found himself going with the former—only because it was something Io would have suggested. After all, everything was filtered through the eyes and thus, the mind. It must, therefore, be that he was dreaming. Imagining things. A conjuring of desires to form an ideal; an illusion.

The bar of soap smelled, to him, like bed. The tiles; the bath, even the water—scented. He closed his eyes on the world and waited in the dark, listening only to the beat of the creature within his cage. Everything else was null, almost insignificant in comparison to the rising heat that gathered at his waist.

The muscles on his lower abdomen hardened. His hands rose to brace himself against the wall, droplets of water running down his back while his breathing turned slightly uneven.

In that instance, Luka vaguely recalled a note of relief. One that was grateful for the loneliness of mind, in which was a place that belonged only to him and no one else. This was a place he left untouched, a forgotten room within that he had not visited in a while.

Confirming that it was locked, he stepped inside—leaving the world behind, breaking his Link. No one was to enter.

What he found in the room, however, was company.

The one who had been waiting for him.

Roused, a hand of his slipped from the wall and began to grope in the dark, resembling the control he once had over his creature. Slipping.

The person in the room drew towards him in a manner so familiar he felt ashamed, as though he was merely using the other for benefits only he himself would gain. He sensed the long-awaited pull of pleasure, and began to move faster.

It spiked upwards—numbing the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet, travelling along his spine as it invited his entire being. Taken aback by the sheer ability of his imagination to conjure something completely unrealistic, Luka sought to end this swiftly.

The person drew closer. They were close, within his reach—but they were shy.

He cursed his own indecisiveness, guilty of yielding to pleasure and having been tested, failed in every aspect. Tempted, he was not so strong as to disregard passion. He caved.

And yet, a part of him hardened in blank resolve.

This image; this dream, conjured by his mind.

Who else could it belong to except himself? No one but him. No one else's, but his own.

He stroked faster.

For who could take it away, out of his room? There was not a window to what was inside; no one would know. No one would ever know of its existence. It was his. Inside.

The creature picked up its pace, prowling in his cage, awoke. He was closer than he had ever been, even in reality, there was not a time they had been this close.

Luka breathed, short. Uneven.

Close.

____________________________

The sparrow was ushered into what seemed to him like a waiting room, one filled with unusual equipment and a spread of surgical tools across the coffee table. He surveyed the room in a daze,

Noting that it was oddly cramped, with only a single window for air and a fainting couch for the guest.

"Lie down, Io."

He nodded, stumbling a little before the phoenix hurried to steady him once more. "I'll help you." She guided him towards the couch with fair ease, seemingly unaffected by his scent or the fact that his consciousness was barely present. Io collapsed onto the cushions, a familiar scent stirring the creature in his cage.

"I think I smell Luka."

A glass of water was presented to him.

"It is the heat," the Chinese girl explained before wiping his brow with something damp. "Plays tricks on the mind. Drink the water."

The sparrow breathed wearily, tipping the glass of water to his lips. "You smell like...snow." She turned to him with a gaze that appeared blank, pausing with a soft look in her eyes.

"The kind of scent in the air that tells you it's going to snow. A sharp, icy sort of smell. Almost spicy."

He finished the glass of water only to see that she, too, had a tiny smile upon her lips. "I've been told that snow doesn't smell like anything."

"It's something," Io insisted with an airy laugh, starting to feel as though he was in the middle of a dream. Dizzy with the absence of thoughts, he lay down.

She tempered with the cushions by his side, placing one over his chest where it was hurting the most. "I believe you know how this came about."

"It's in the dinner last night. Yes, I knew," the sparrow smiled admittedly, as though narrating something he thought inevitable. "That actually quite accurately sums up my whole life. Knowing that it will hurt and yet, still going with it."

Jing stared at the incredulously figure before her, unsure whether it was the heat speaking through his lips or that he had, somehow, seen through the clouds that were sifting in and out of his cage. As the one who had never experienced heat herself, Jing had seen many fall prey to the gruelling heat, unable to withstand its invitation.

He had to be the one. The other Eye.

"Io, you know that Kirill is part of the order that wants you gone. Once he learns of this, you will have a—"

There was a knock on the door. The sparrow turned to her with a fair look of surprise, eyes waning with doubt. The sun was low but the heat held high, red painting the skies while a fire raged in a fist, blinding the creatures of the land during which the day came to an end.

The phoenix held his shoulder reassuringly, projecting in his head words of comfort. Don't worry.

"Come in."

They entered. Masked faces, which he identified by scent. The revel of scents that hit the sparrow in his face with a combined force of a truck, causing the creature within to set itself free. Wild, it begged to be sated.

"Skies. Hold him down," the cassowary acted as soon as she saw the spark in his eyes ignite in flames. "They'll be here any minute."

"What?"

"The raven tipped them off," Slayne held fast onto his shoulders, small and lithe. His eyes were inviting, his scent beginning to invade his senses. "Hurry up!"

The sparrow let a careless whimper escape through his lips, sewn shut just moments ago only to be undone by fruitless desire. He was looking directly at Jeremiah, who had, to him, the strongest scent in the room.

"Tori? Tori listen to me," Shri had his hands secured to the sides of the couch, "we're here to help. Calm down!"

"He's gone," Jing took charge, turning away from Io and towards the four instead. "Where's the cure?"

"Here," Jeremiah handed it to her nervously, appearing to be affected by the overpowering scent of fresh linen despite having a mask on. "What do you need me to do?"

"Hold his legs."

All of a sudden, a moment's pause allowed those in the room to hear the approaching footsteps just along the corridor outside. Their eyes widened and immediately, Jeremiah was on it.

"I'll talk."

"Buy us a minute—no, three," Jing corrected as soon as she found the needle and inserted it into the syringe. "He might take a while to react."

The kite nodded once, turning on his heel to leave the room. The phoenix tested needle once. Twice. It was ready. She checked his eyes and confirmed the effects of his heat before searching his arm for an artery. Once found, she leaned closer.

"Just a sting."

Io knew perfectly well that that wouldn't be the case but it wasn't the time for knowing. He was not in the state of mind to know.

As soon as Jeremiah laid his hands on the handle of the door however, it burst inwards—surprising the former who doubled back. "Fuck."

Slayne and Shri froze as soon as they felt his presence, and Meryl cursed under her breath at their misfortune.

"What is this?" Kirill stepped into the room, several of his students following suit; some snickering far behind. "All of you, this equipment, where did you—?"

All of a sudden, there was the arrival of many others (some of whom had established a lack of interest in Iolani Tori's wellbeing moments before), complicating matters by adding to the bucket of shock and repulse that was already about to overflow.

"He's in heat."

What appeared to the average person as several predators restraining a prey in heat while one administered the cure was, according to the social paradigms of their world, in fact a blatant disregard to the unspoken rules.

The problem with this however, was that predators were more often than not regarded as the victim—and not the prey.

Professor Kirill paused with a frown, reaching up to pinch his nose as though there was a terrible stench that plagued the room. "The sparrow is in heat! What is this? Why is he not locked up?"

"He's going to infect all of us," one of his students was not afraid to voice the most common insult thrown at prey in heat.

"Students?" Viktor stepped in, forcing Kirill to move out of the way. "What are you doing?" Even he was surprised.

"Stop!" The Himalayan vulture ordered with a shriek of disgust. "Get away from him. Reyes! Is this what you call efficiency? Take him away at once!" Reyes had his lips drawn into a line as he took in the sight of his nephew, somehow involved in the trouble that stirred into a scene. Slayne, Shri and Meryl released their hold on Io and backed away almost immediately, unable to disobey an authority multiple ranks above their own.

Jing however, did not stop. She was already transferring the cure into his blood with the needle and Io was breathing heavily—the result of a predator's hormones coming into direct contact with his own. There was, however, a strong reaction.

"It hurts," he cried out all of a sudden, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. The phoenix was quick to withdraw her needle upon his cry, afraid that it was causing a side-effect unbeknownst to her.

This, she deduced, might have been the result of a mixed-blood cure made from the hormones of the four predators and herself. These cures were considered to be the most effective, unlike pure-blood cures that were easier to extract and produce. The one she had administered would have worked perfectly on the average sparrow. And yet—

Viktor combed through the surgical kit before stepping towards the fainting couch, leaning down to press a sheet of anesthetic gauze on the area of injection. "The rest of you, leave. There are far too many of us in a single room."

"Viktor, I would advise you to take him away. It is not your duty to attend to a prey in heat." Kirill insisted, turning (for some reason) to stare at Reyes.

Incense worked itself into the condor's mind, along with many other concerns that built upon one another, plaguing his mood and essentially ruining his day. The consistent excuses he had managed to come up with had finally collapsed to reveal an apparent fact: V, his own stepmother, had called upon someone else to do the job.

He didn't want to believe that it was a matter of trust. Perhaps she thought the vulture more suiting for the task, or it to be a burden on the shoulders of her son—one that she simply wished to relieve. More. More excuses.

"Reyes. The boy will be needing a blanket. Something warm to drink will do as well. Can I trouble you?"

The instructor nodded at once, leaving to fetch the necessary items. Curious onlookers lingered behind Professor Kirill, snickering at the state Io was in. Under most circumstances, prey in heat were locked in rooms, thereby leaving a very scene like this rare and more often than so, unseen.

At present, Io was a work of art.

An exhibit to be placed in the pedestal of a museum; a performance at the theatre; a rare sight to be examined, judged, critiqued and observed for ages.

The phoenix could sense an odd stirring in her chest, almost like a pot of water brought to a simmer before a boil. In her cage, the creature wished to scare the rest of the world with a roar, to frighten them into a run and then into hiding. She wanted them to leave and to stay where they had gone to stay—just, away.

"Io, relax. Calm down."

"I know, I know that," he managed without whimpering, trying to stay within control of himself. Out of the control of pain. "But sir, my chest—I don't know, it feels like my heart is falling apart."

Viktor nodded. He was the only one within close proximity at the moment. "I understand. The anesthetic will help, you just have to...Io?"

The note of surprise turned heads and it wasn't long before they, too, were rendered speechless. Io was breathing hard—not because of the cloud that threatened to block his view completely but because of the shivering change that took place within. Inside his cage.

"What is going on?" Kirill sounded, for the first time, nervous. Fear on his lips.

The audience watched as the roots of Io's hair paled to a glow; a pure, lunar white—reaching towards his ends before everything was of the same shade. His eyes, sealed shut in pain, flew open to reveal a miracle. 

Two moons.

The world was stunned into silence before footsteps—quiet but urgent—stopped outside the fainting room and turned their attention elsewhere. They met eyes.

Embers of fire against an otherworldly glow.

"Io?"

Luka pushed past a couple of Kirill's pack blocking the doorway, anger and concern rising to a boil. The Himalayan vulture stepped forth to prevent him from going any further but Luka side-stepped him easily, gaze fixed on the shivering frame across the couch.

"Io." The eagle proceeded to kneel, removing his coat whilst he did so and placing it on small shoulders instead. His fingers were cold to touch, very much unlike the heated skin he had come into contact with in the morning.

Luna peered into the room through the tiny window, concerned. Her eyes met Luka's before spotting a certain crème brulee way behind and she understood, almost immediately, that he was the one who informed the eagle.

Io attempted to smile, parting his lips in order to steady his breathing and thank Luka for his coat when his words were replaced by a shower of blood.

"Blood—"

Several rushed forth at once but Victoria bared her wings, barring any approach with a screech of warning. Luka wiped the stains with a gauze, checking the pulse on his neck. It wasn't weak.

The eagle handed him the unfinished glass of water from before, and he downed the rest in several gulps.

Io. He called him in his mind. Io.

"Who did this?"

It didn't take a fool to hear the displeasure in his voice. Danger.

Kirill was the first to share his joy. "This is exactly what happens when you don't listen to the authorities. None of this would have occurred if you had stopped the administration as I ordered," he directed towards the phoenix and the hearts who assisted her.

Jing appeared unfazed by his blatant insult, turning to Luka with a gaze that was equally blank. "I administered a mixed-blood cure. It was my idea."

"How many?" Viktor followed up, feeling the limits of his patience being tested already. "How many donors."

"Five. Including me."

There was a series of gasps from the general audience, those from Kirill's pack including the man himself. They sounded very false.

"No, no," a weak voice sounded from the couch, slightly breathless. He coughed once more and smiled regardless. "They tried to help me."

Luka understood that a mixed-blood cure was one of the best. The only problem he had was their doing without permission—without his permission to be precise, but that would be his subjective view of the matter. Objectively speaking, Io was right. They were trying to help.

"Precisely the mistake!" Kirill laughed wryly, reminding Io vaguely of the headmistress. Out of context, he would have thought they were married. "Predators helping, being in contact with a prey in heat! Unforgivable. This boy should have been locked up. Look what his heat has done, a dirty invitation, corrupting the predators around you."

Ah, so it was his fault? Io should have known.

"You're missing the point," Jeremiah raised his voice all of a sudden, having felt wronged. "Just look at him. LOOK at him. Does he look like a prey in heat?"

Hair. Eyes.

Io didn't even look human.

"Well—"

"His body is rejecting the cure," Jing explained. "It does not accept the hormones of five predators at once."

"What was the concentration?" Viktor asked.

"Ninety-six." Barely diluted.

For once, Kirill was silenced by the facts. Luna—invisible—amused herself with the situation, knowing that it was a matter of time before they came to accept her Winged.

"And since, I believe, it is general knowledge or basic common sense," Shri emphasized, "that only predators will reject the blood of other predators, it's obvious that—"

"Enough." Professor Kirill had his lips drawn into a line, as though refusing to hear further conjectures. "That is quite enough."

As if on cue, the bystanders began to leave the scene one by one, filtering out of the room. At the very back, Io caught a glimpse of Dmitri, Lucienne, and very likely the rest of the Hearts. They did not stay as well.

A moment of silence ensued, leaving the predators in the room—including their professor—slightly dazed.

"Well...at least the entire building doesn't smell like beds anymore," Io piped up after moments of recovery, turning to Luka with a light-hearted smile. One that glowed.

The eagle returned his smile with a softened gaze, still, unable to voice the many things he wished to say. He wanted to apologize; yet there was a heavy guilt that he bore, one he felt could not be lifted by forgiveness or a mere apology.

"Rest up here, Iolani. Your instructor will bring you something comfortable in a minute."

This was followed by a timely knock on the door, quite appropriately fulfilling Viktor's statement.

"Tori, how are you feeling?" Jeremiah's Uncle appeared very concerned, and his tone carried a note of concern. "I apologize for the lack of facilities to cater towards you. We were not expecting this to happen at all...nevertheless it was my duty to anticipate such things. I am deeply sorry."

Io was quick to wave his hands, embarrassed by the amount of distress he had caused. "No, no sir. It's not your fault at all...um. I was very careless as well...it was my first time. I'm not even sure what's happening at the moment, and whether this will continue tomorrow...it's a lot of trouble."

A warm and cosy quilt was draped over his legs and although Reyes offered to take Luka's coat away for a wash, Io declined politely. He did, however, express a light-hearted hunger for a sumptuous meal.

"I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday," he explained with a flushed nape, which was accurately followed by a tiny growl of his empty stomach.

"Alright. We will leave you to rest," Viktor nodded, taking a closer look at Io's face. "Your complexion looks ghastly. The rest of you return to your villas and get ready for dinner. I'll speak to you later."

Oh. Luka's leaving? He hadn't wished for that to happen.

"Bye Iolani," the girl with auburn hair—the one who he could barely recognize her voice considering the fact that she had almost never spoken to him—waved before exiting the room, startling him quite terribly.

"Oh, um. Goodbye!"

"Rest well," Jeremiah charmed with his usual, disarming smile while Shri merely nodded her head awkwardly, tailing him as he left as well. Slayne was the last to leave, and he didn't appear too keen on exchanging or at least announcing his farewell. Io was quietly amused, wondering just how Jiro would have reacted to this.

"Thanks everyone," he called after their backs and made the effort to perform a huge final wave, waiting for the other three in the room to leave as well.

"Jane," Viktor turned to the phoenix. "Can you stay with him until his food comes? Make sure he's comfortable."

Jing nodded, taking the loveseat adjacent to the fainting couch. "Alri—"

"I can do that." Luka said all of a sudden, directing this at Viktor before realizing how foolish he must have appeared. "I can stay. If you need someone to look after him."

Viktor was trying very hard to supress a laugh. "Uh, look...Sullivan. I understand that you are keen. I mean, that was the longest thing I've ever heard you say—but no. I have been informed of your...behaviour this morning, and I don't think it's the best idea for you to stay with Tori alone. Prey or predator, it's a no."

If Luka was disappointed, he didn't show it. At least he tried not to.

"Okay." He turned on his heel to leave, Victoria's feathers looking quite ruffled by the rejection of his offer. Io himself felt slightly upset by the outcome as well.

I'll see you later? He called out in his mind, and Luka glanced over his shoulder—embers dancing in his eyes.

"Let's go, dinner's almost ready," Viktor prompted the eagle by patting his back, willing him out of the room. The eagle and the vulture exited room while the latter closed the door behind him—leaving the Eyes of the sky alone, together.

________________________

A/N: I wanted to make it longer but time constraints ;-; I'm flying to Japan tomorrow! I sort of wrote half of the next part already but adding it to this chapter would make the cut really awkward and it would have been a cliff-hanger. I'm sure you guys have had enough of that X'D cliff-hangers feed on our souls, that's for sure. I apologize that the next update will be a little late though >_<

At least more people are inclined to believe in Io now :') and find that Luka has more complex emotions that a block of wood XDDD

In all honesty, I have to admit that Luka's scene was full of imagery and analogies without directly referring to any sexual desires he may have hidden away in his 'room'. If you think about it, he kinda just has a corner of his mind for him to retreat into whenever he is in that mood, and we learn that in that corner lies a certain someone. It is always the same person, we can tell from the language, and that he does visit the 'room' from time to time.

Although rated, the scene has a very different writing style to it compared to the rated scenes that I write for my other books, and well...it's expected XD I hope it was to your taste. Unless you like explicit, then, well, :') I can't do anything about that.

Moving on, we have the issue of the suppression of sexuality, which Io will bring up in the next chapter as well when he talks to his new friends (aka the hearts who have come to believe that he is the moon phoenix).

The double standard of sexual morality in our society condemns certain sexual activities by women while permitting the identical actions for men. Simply put; men are often regarded as the superior sex.

As I have mentioned before, the terms 'prey' and 'predator' are flexible in a sense that they can apply to various issues of our current time—being gender, race, religion, morality, etc.

In this case, predators in Flight School are able to express their sexuality openly and are, in fact, encouraged to do so. Similarly in our reality, a man who has had 5 lovers would be considered a 'player' or a 'playboy', while a woman who has had the same number would be considered a 'slut' or a 'whore'. In certain cases, some men even consider the term 'player' as a compliment (some people even mean it as a compliment), while women are left with known-insults such as the beforementioned.

Prey, like women, are often forced to supress their sexuality, deeming it as indecent and un-ladylike to read, discuss, or even talk about sex. Whereas to many, it is 'normal' for men to talk about sex among themselves, or watch/read pornography. Simply put, women (or the prey in Flight School) are not permitted by society to express their sexual feelings.

This is also highlighted by the props used in the scene whereby Io is being given the cure. One outstanding prop is the 'fainting couch', often used during the Victorian era in the 'fainting room' for 'Female Hysteria', an illness primarily associated with women at the time.

Female Hysteria:

"According to physicians throughout history, women were subjected to an illness called 'Hysteria' where the woman would display a number of symptoms from shortness of breath, irritability and vaginal leakage to sexual fantasies and "a tendency to simply cause trouble". The treatment for this was a pelvic massage performed by a doctor..."

I referenced the fainting couch because the 'female hysteria' of the Victorian era was actually found to be, in modern terms, just sexual frustration. Surely, men of that time had sexual frustrations as well (or if they didn't, that just tells us even more, I mean so obviously, women were not allowed to have sex whenever they wanted) and yet, for women, it is considered an ILLNESS to want sex.

Making an allusion to fainting couches emphasizes the plight of the prey by simply mirroring the situation of the past (also applicable to present society) to the particular condemnation of prey's heat in Flight School.

I must say, it did take quite some time to paint this picture since I had to have someone else to experience it first (Pipa, then Luka) before Io comes to realize it himself. I've always wanted to point this out since the start of the series but having so much sexual tension in the first book would destroy Io and Luka's complex and intricate relationship, one that has taken so much time and effort to build up to this point. They might not even realize it in the end and sometimes that itself is a beautiful tragedy, who knows?

Well, that is all. I hope you've learnt something new about fainting couches XD It is a very beautiful furniture to have at home and maybe you already have one! Haha, it's not uncommon to mistake it for a normal couch/sofa. The design is often very exquisite, so I wouldn't blame you/your family for wanting one.

That's it for this week! I will be posting some of my adventures in Japan (I'll be sure to get some mochi for Jiro) on my Instagram (hisangelchip) so if you want to see what it's like over here, feel free to check it out! ^^

Thank you,

Cuppiecake.