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My hands pet his head in a caress, his tongue reverently licking the last of my release from my softening, oversensitive cock before he tucks me back inside my underwear. I am completely undone by him, boneless from my orgasm, floored by the unreserved affection practically beaming from his beaten and scratched face.
Guilt seeps into the edges of my pleasure, and it must show on my face. Tor frowns and stands between my thighs, his grimace at the movement making me feel guiltier. He had literally been drowned a matter of hours ago, and here I am, using him for my own pleasure. Shit, Tor’s frown grows deeper, the black bruise on his brow making him look more serious.
“Absolutelynoneof that, Caelan. I needed that as much as you did. Knock it off and go get water for dinner.” It’s hard to be haughty with your dick half hanging out, but somehow Tor manages it. Of course he does, he is magnificent. So I do as I am told and get the water so I can take care of my man.
Tor
Thank the Gods forfae healing because I woke up the morning after myordealalmost as good as new. I still have a big ugly bruise on my head, but it healed pretty rapidly. The garish sight didn’t seem to bother Caelan in the slightest. He hasn’t been able to keep his hands to himself since he woke me up, grinding his sweet, hairy ass against my morning wood.
Still not going near the creek, though. Not. A. Chance. Caelan has assured me, repeatedly, that the shithead mermaid was probably just hungry and extra vicious after winter hibernation, but somehow that isn’t as comforting as he thinks it is.
Compared to almost dying at the hands of a vicious water beast, the last two days have been rather peaceful, even if we have run into more and more beings. They’ve all kept to themselves, so it hasn’t been too bad.
Well, except for the corion that stalked us through the trees for long enough to make Caelan palm his knives to keep them handy again. We’d heard its hissing before we’d seen its scaly, serpent body winding its way through the trees, electric pink eyes locked on us.
Fortunately for us, it spied a nest of ravens in the trees that seemed like easier prey. A lot less lucky for the ravens. Despite carrying enough venom to take down even the most powerful of beings, making it a sought-after creature for poachers, its fangs are too small to pierce even the most fragile flesh. Instead, the serpentine beast prefers to crush its larger victims in its giant powerful body, suffocating the life from them. You can see how just swallowing a nest of ravens might just be easier, right?
But the hike wasn’t always easy. Yesterday we traversed a rather rocky incline that had been sketchy at best and pants-wettingly terrifying at worst. Apparently, apart from being part wolf shifter, Caelan is also part mountain goat.
The way he carried his bulky, flannel clad body across the narrow ledges and tricky pathways with nimble finesse was completely unnatural. Me, on the other hand? I mean, the way that I screeched when the rocks had slipped underneath me had been totally justified, but it was still embarrassing. I had been forced to kiss the cocky, charming smirk off his face.
Joke was on me though. Over a week out in the Woods and Caelan’s trimmed neat beard was turning into a wild mountain man wet dream, and now I have beard rash.
Plus, that night, when we made camp for the night, he admitted he had been terrified the entire time, entirely sure he was leading us to our deaths. When he’d confessed, that blush flushing his cheeks in the way that I love, my heart had done a funny little skip in my chest.
I’d never had anyone I could rely on to be strong for me. But as he’d gone on to explain how his knees had shaken and he’d tried to keep how sweaty his palms had been from me, it made me wonder who was strong for Caelan? My eyes had raked over him, cataloguing the minute details of him. He’d thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, and the glow of the firelight made his eyes sparkle. Or maybe that was just the way that he looked atme. But deep down, in the part of my body where my magic lives, I knew I wanted that being to be me.
I honestly tried not to complain too hard about the difficult parts of the hike. At least they kept me distracted. When it gets quiet and easy, well easyish, it just leaves me with more time to think.
And worry.
Each step further into the Woods is increasing my anxiety. Fear for Theo has crept up my back like a vine, insidious thorns latching onto my vertebrae, poisoning my blood.
I hadn’t always been the best brother to Theo. I mean, I’d tried. Definitely more so over the last year or so since I pulled my head out of my ass. Even so, I hadn’t always been there for him in the way he needed me to be. I had livedevery second of my life thumbing my nose at our parents by being just as selfish and self-absorbed as them. Just in my own way.
They were the crème de la crème of Loqueaur City. Richer than the Gods and arguably more powerful. They care for nothing and no one but power and money, not even their own children, evidently. It was a lesson we’d learnt hard and learnt early. But me? I had cared for nothing except my own pleasure, my own independence. And spending their money.
I had tried to protect him. Our parents had been rather brutal in their disdain for both of us and our lack of ambition for power. So I had learnt at a very young age to find my validation elsewhere. Not anywhere particularly healthy: friends, parties, boys, posting thirsty photos on social media… But it had worked.
Theo, on the other hand, he’d been all alone. Growing up with that big brain of his, he’d never managed to find his place, his people. All alone in life, he’d tried desperately to gain our parents’ approval. No matter how many achievements he unlocked, how many accolades, nothing pleased our shithead parents, and each knock bruised Theo’s already sensitive heart more and more, until he retreated entirely into himself and his studies. I should have tried harder, done more to pull him out of his shell, to show him how much I loved him.
I sigh deeply, trying to shake my melancholy. We are in a thick patch of Woods, having started our day in the bright sunlight at the crest of a mountain peak. The trees are so dense here it is almost as if daylight has entirely left us behind and we have been swallowed by the trees.
It is creepy as fuck.
The calls and screeches of various animalesque creatures hiding in the Woods arenothelping either.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Caelan brushes his shoulder against mine, nudging me out of my pity party, “what’s with the wings?”
I let out a breathy little laugh. Honestly, I have been waiting for him to bring them up. But he hadn’t, so I hadn’t. I bump my shoulder back into his, our heavy backpacks knocking together. Caelan’s deep green eyes are on me, watching me carefully.
I would put easy money on him having asked because he can sense my increasing anxiety. Of course Caelan sees it. He always does. Even through our stupid phones on the other side of the country he had never failed to see straight through me. I give a little shrug and kick a stone on the path.
“I can’t fly, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I scrunch my nose. “I think they are little because Mother has wings and my father doesn’t. I take more after her. I have her skin, her height. Her hair. Theo takes more after Father.Earthier, my grandmother had referred to it as. My mother’s mother. Gods, she was absolutely evil, but soethereal. Her skin was like crystals, giant gossamer wings...Ugh. SheloathedFather, thought he was beneath her. She thoughteveryonewas beneath her. But, anyway. That’s besides the point.”
I shimmy my shoulders to shake off the tangent I found myself on, fiddling with the loose straps hanging from my bag straps. “The wings, they rarely show themselves. They just appear when I’m… emotional. Like, being super angry can bring them out too. Which was a pain in the ass when I was young and dumb and did things like get into bar fights. Not exactly like my teeny little things are impressive or intimidating. But they also come out when I’m…excited. Like, when the sex is…” I bite my lip and give a dirty little moan, and I’m rewarded with a flicker of heat in Caelan’s eyes, “they make an appearance.”
A grunt escapes me as Caelan grabs the straps of my pack, swinging me into him, chest to chest, his thigh between my legs. One hand releases a strap to slide down my stomach and curve around my back, settling under the waistband of my underwear, his icy fingers a shock against my bare skin. His other hand snakes up, curling around the back of my neck, continuing further up to tangle into my hair, tugging roughly on the strands to pull my head to the side.
