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Tor sulkily withdraws his hand from his now half-deflated cock, drawing my attention back to him, and I snatch it up to lick the pre-cum coating his hand. It tastes sweet and decadent, just like Tor. I can’t help the growl that rumbles through my chest as I reach down and yank Tor up to kiss him, licking into his mouth to let him taste himself there. We part, breathless, panting, the weird feeling in my hand completely forgotten.
“Come on, let’s get this shit show on the road.”
***
And it turns out that it definitely was a shit show. All day things went wrong. Our glowing dots—now joined by a new purple glowy dot for Edith—showed that we were extremely close to the coordinates Theo left for Tor. Close enough that we should have been able to get there in half a day.
But the journey was a living nightmare, meaning we needed to make camp for the night. For the first time since we entered the Woods, it rained. And not just a light drizzle. No, it rainedall day. From the moment we had packed the last of the camp it alternated between dumping fat drops and torrential washout rain, blocking our vision and making the trek downright dangerous. We’d been forced to seek cover more than once, especially when we’d been heading down a slippery mountain slope into the valley. The path had become slick with flowing mud, making what should have been an easy stroll nearly impossible.
Even Edith stopped her usual meandering and foraging to stick close. Gods, she was downright sensible. Well, for her, anyway.
The rain not only made everything harder, and our packs heavier, it also turned us all into sniping, miserable balls of frustration. And to add to all of that, that strange tingling burn kept flaring in my palms. Every time I looked, though, there was nothing there, and the feeling went away.
By the time we stop to set up for camp that evening, tucked into a small cave almost at the base of the valley, no one is talking to each other. Between the dank and musty cave, barely tall enough for Tor and me to stand to full height, the irritation of being soaking wet and muddy all day and the simmering tension between us all, everything is rather tense. Especially since Edith can’t wander off to wherever it is she wanders off to, forcing her to spend the night with us.
From the other side of the cave I can feel the frustration rolling off Tor, a firestorm in the connection between us, the lines of his back so tight I think he might snap. I really want to apologise for being snippy all day, and there is a part of me that knows that I should. But I am still too pissed off to do it.
Which is weird, because I am not quite surewhyI am so mad at them. I just… am. Like, sure it had been annoying that Edith had made us stop to pick mushrooms at one point. And her stupid skirt and layers kept getting caught as we traversed some particularly narrow rock face. And her fur coat smelt disgusting after it got wet.
And Tor kept going off course, trying to go the wrong way. And because he insisted on continuing through a particularly heavy rain period, when the rain was so heavy visibility was basically zero, I had slipped on some mossy rocks and hurt my ankle, making the rest of the trek even more intolerable. I may have also been… less than patient with them because of all of this.
But still. The ferocity of the anger burning inside me is in no way proportionate to the situation. It feels like wearing a shoe a size too small.Wrong,like it doesn’t belong to me. Not at all like when I feel Tor. That feels warm and right. It is a part of me. This is a distinct otherness, rotten and black, insidious. As I lay out all our boots by the crackling fire, giving myself a few moments to gather my thoughts, something tickles the back of my brain. Something Edith said the other day, when it felt like the Woods were pushing us backwards.
“Edith,” I call to where she is sitting huddled by the fire. Her coat had been discarded along the way and she is now wrapped in one of my spare woollen jumpers she’d swiped from my pack.Without asking.Not that it made her any more grateful. She turns from the fire with a fierce look on her face, and I wince at the uncharacteristic venom in her eyes. “This is the Woods, isn’t it? I don’t… I don’t feel right. Like this anger, it’s not mine. It feels… malevolent. Like poison.” A shudder shoots down my spine as Tor spins to face me from where he is setting up our sleeping bag. We are going to have to tuck in close tonight because we had given Edith our other mattress and bag for the night.
“No way! I was literally just thinking the same thing.” A grin—that on anyone else would have been dopey, but somehow just makes him look prettier—smashes the tense lines of Tor’s face. I can’t help but smile back—my grin is definitely dopey-looking—and he wrinkles his nose with his smile. Squirmy threads of happiness radiate from our connection. I can tell you I definitely don’t hate it. His eyes snap from mine back to Edith. “I didn’t question it whilewe were out there in the rain, but then, even the rain. It hasn’t rained a single day that we’ve been in the Woods and now today it rains enough for three seasons? I call bullshit.” He thrusts his finger aggressively in the air for effect and then flops onto our mattress, reclining onto his elbows.
Edith nods her head from side to side. “I had considered the same thing. Honestly, I was too busy being wrapped up in being mad at you two to think straight. I’m not used to spending such a long time with people. I figured it was just that. Look at me being off my game.” She claps her hands to her thighs sarcastically. She tries to play it off, but her words are laced with bitterness. Edith doesn’t take coming second very well. “There has been something pushing against us the closer we get to wherever it is we are going. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was behind the fact that you two were the most annoying creatures on the planet today.”
Tor pulls a face and I just roll my eyes, but Edith ignores us to get up and start pacing, her hands punctuating her words.
“To be completely honest, I am worried about what we are going to face when we get to that place. There are stories of those that dwell in these woods, beings that are from the before time. Old, powerful. They are dangerous. If it is one of those beings that has your brother, Tor,” she shoots him a sympathetic look, “I don’t know what we are going to be able to do. Honestly, I think the only reason we, that you, have made it this far is the benevolence of the Woods and your own fae gift. Luck is a powerful gift to be given, a true blessing.”
I can’t take the look of apprehension that has taken over Tor’s face again, and I cross the cave to wrap him in my arms, tucking his head into my neck. The rain is thunderous outside, echoing through the cave.
“We’ve, uh, we’ve heard some of the stories.” Tor reluctantly pulls back, giving me an uneasy look before turning in my arms to face Edith. Like me, I know he is thinking about the story we’d heard from Nanna Berry, the old woman from the shifter pack, “Is thereanythingwe can do to give ourselves an advantage here?” I plead with Edith, who looks around the cave helplessly.
“Without my supplies, I’m limited in what I can do for us. If I knewwhatwas out there, it would help. But with no information and none of my tools, itis kinda hard to knock up a potion or an amulet or whatever. But… I think...” She starts digging through her pockets and pulls out a handful of crumpled white flowers and a tree root she had picked up along the way. She holds both up triumphantly, like she has just found the solution to all our problems.
I try not to doubt my friend, because sheisan exceptionally powerful witch, but the doubt must be written on my face because Edith scoffs loudly at me.
“Oh, ye of little faith. Give me the fire, our cooking pot, and some water. If you have any candles in your pack, I’ll take them too, but I can live without them. You leave it to me, my darling idiot boys, and I’ll knock us up something to give us a little extra punch tomorrow.” Gods help us, we are going to need it.
Tor
I tried not todoubt Edith; I am well-aware that she is a powerful witch who could definitely kick my ass three ways from Sunday. Still, when she handed us our little bundle of flowers and tree roots tied together with what appeared to be chunks of her hair this morning, it was once again hard to take her seriously.
Watching her work had been eerie. I am obviously no stranger to magic, but it is exceptionally rare to see a witch work, and it had been awesome—in the most literal sense—to see the magic ripple through the air around her as she cast her spells. Maybe that was why the bundle was so underwhelming. I could feel the magic coming off it, sure; it just looked so… puny.
Either way, she had promised that they would at least give us a little boost of protection, and we need all the help we can get. We are all quiet as we pack our kits and break down our wards around the cave. Caelan digs around in our bags to find a small bottle of syrup to leave as a gift.
By some unspoken agreement, we avoid acknowledging the danger we are walking into at all costs, and not for the first time I feel that overwhelming guilt about dragging Caelan, and now Edith, into this mess. Sensing my growing unease, because he knows me so well, even without our mate bond, Caelan wraps me up tight in his arms, bundling me close before we leave. I tuck myself as deep as I can into him, breathing his scent in. Like always, his strength fills me, giving me the courage to go on.
Edith, quieter this morning, the seriousness of her countenance at odds with her generally chaotic being, interrupts our moment with a hand on my back.
“Tor, I need you to remember your power out there. You have magic and I need you to be unafraid to use it. Even with your bond, Caelan is going to be vulnerable—”
Caelan’s arms tighten hard around me. Through our connection, I feel the flood of his indignation, his fingers clawing into my sides where he is wrapped around me. The pain when his grip tightens startles me, and I hiss, glaring down at where he’s holding. The pain is odd though, not pressure… almost like a burny kinda feeling? Thankfully, he loosens his hold, instead rubbing his hands soothingly over the area in apology.
