Chapter 59
Chapter
Fifty-Nine
A short time later, when the sun is setting on the horizon, we come across the first structure we’ve seen since leaving the tower, and it makes me wonder if the gods are looking out for us after all.
Granted, it’s not an inn. It’s a crumbling shed that probably once housed livestock. There’s no house nearby, though a large burnt spot a short distance away tells us what probably happened to it. There are no cattle, no horses, and the hay in the shed looks to be older than I am. But there’s most of a roof and at least three walls, and that’s better than sleeping out in the open.
Nemeth is pleased at the sight of it. “We’ll stop here tonight. Do you need me to clean it out for you? Make a bed?”
I shake my head, tossing down my much-lighter pack and using it as a seat as I rest in the old, moldy hay. “Just lay down a cloak. I don’t care. I’m too tired to care.”
He sets down his pack and crouches near me, a worried expression on his face. “Do you feel well?”
“My feet hurt,” I admit with frustration, even though I know it makes me sound like a whiny child. “They hurt and my shoes are dreadful. Ugly and dreadful. And my face feels hot. And my scalp does, too. And I’m tired and hungry and miserable and part of me wants to go back to the tower and just lay there and starve because it’s easier.”
Nemeth chuckles at my crabby response. “There’s no going back.”
“I know there’s not.” I sigh. “I wouldn’t go back even if we could. I’m just tired and not used to this. And why is my scalp hot?” I touch the top of my head, wincing when it feels scorching.
“You’re red,” Nemeth says, touching a finger gently under my chin and tipping my face toward his. “Your face is bright red and so is your scalp where your hair is parted. Why is this?”
I look down at my hands and sure enough, the backs are bright red with sunburn. I’m stunned—and then I laugh. “I haven’t seen sunlight in two years. I must be truly pale.” I flex my hands and wince at how hot and tight my skin feels. “That’s going to be painful in the morning.”
“What can we do for it? I do not like to see you in pain.”
I think of the delicate, floral-scented lotions I have back at the tower. I didn’t bring them because we only brought necessities, and why would lotion be one? But now I’m regretting it. I shrug. “Not much to do about it except wait for it to heal. Tomorrow I’ll wear a hood. It just felt nice to have the breeze and the sunlight on my face.”
It was really the only nice thing about today.
“I should have left you safe in the tower,” he mutters to himself. “Let me see your feet.”
“I wouldn’t have stayed,” I retort. And I’m wrong—the sunlight wasn’t the only nice thing about today. Being with him is always wonderful. I peek at him as he kneels in front of me, lifting my skirt and taking one of my aching feet in his hand.
He frowns down at them as if they’ve somehow failed me and then pulls one shoe off. “These are useless.”
“I noticed.” I wince when even more sand falls from inside the shoe though we left the beach hours ago. “They weren’t fun to walk in.”
“I will fix them for you before we leave in the morning.” As if it’s his job to tend to me, Nemeth wipes sand away from my toes and then rubs my foot, tsking at the red marks and blisters on my skin. “Tomorrow, when you get tired, I will carry you.”
A thoughtful offer, but it’s one that makes my mind spin into uncomfortable territory. We walked all day today, most of it in pensive silence. The silence bothers me less now than the fact that I have a winged man at my side…and we walked. Not once did he spread his wings, except to shield me from the rain. “Can I ask you a question?”
He looks up from my foot, his eyes glowing. “What is it?”
“I hope this isn’t too personal, but…your wings. You didn’t try to fly today?”
Nemeth is silent for a long moment. He continues to rub my foot, sending skitters of pleasure up my spine. He’s thoughtful as he continues to rub, and eventually speaks. “When we first arrived in the tower, I thought of nothing but my freedom. Of the day I would see wide-open skies above me and then I could fly into the air. Most of Darkfell’s mountains are hollow. Did you know that? The main caverns are hundreds of handspans high, and riddled with tunnels and caves so we can fly back and forth between each other’s homes. There are very few stairs because they are not needed except for the elderly and infirm. I always flew at home. Even at the Alabaster Citadel, my room was situated in a tower on one of the highest parapets. All I had to do was open a window and I could fly out. I flew constantly. It was as necessary as breathing. And then…”
He pauses.
“And then you were trapped in a horrible tower for two years because of the name you were born with,” I say bitterly.
“No,” Nemeth says quietly. “And then I met someone who showed me that perhaps it is not so bad to be on the ground. It is all about the company.”
I reach over and flick his shoulder. “That’s a lovely story.”
He smiles at me.
“And we both know it’s dragon shite,” I continue, my voice tart.
Nemeth’s smile widens into a grin. He laughs, and some of the unease I’ve felt all day melts away. “It’s not all dragon shite. I do enjoy being with you.”
“Are you afraid to try out your wing?”
He goes back to rubbing my foot, thinking. “It feels tight,” he admits after a moment. “It has for some time. Like it’s pulled taut in one spot. I’m afraid that I could damage it further if I try to use it without a healer looking at it. And as long as I don’t try it out, I don’t know how bad it could be. I can delay the truth for another day.”
“Oh, Nemeth.” My heart aches for him. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have fixed it better for you.”
He shakes his head. “You did the very best you could. That is all anyone could ask for.” He sets my foot down and picks up my other, dusting it free of sand and then rubbing it as well. “How can I be upset? We have had to fend for ourselves for two years.” Tilting his head, he studies my face. “Which reminds me. We should heat your potion soon.”
“Soon,” I agree, and then wiggle my foot in his grasp. It feels good, the foot rub, but it also feels like a distraction, as if he’s determined to pull me away from a difficult conversation. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow what?”
I wiggle my foot again to get his attention. “Tomorrow you’ll try to fly? For me?”
“You must truly hate walking.”
That does it. Exasperated, I pull my foot out of his grasp and lean forward to cup his face, so he’ll look me in the eye. Why is it this man can lick my pussy with the confidence of a court lothario but gets shy when I ask about his wings? I meet his gaze, stroking his cheek. “It’s not about walking. It’s about knowing our limitations so we know what we have to push past in the future. Just because your wing is tight now doesn’t mean it always will be. It just gives you something to overcome.”
He smiles at me, his cheeks stretching. “How is it that you can make me feel so calm? Even on a day such as today?”
“Because we’re together,” I tell him. “We’re taking control of our destinies. Even if the Golden Moon Goddess frowns down upon us, maybe the Gray God will look after us.”
Nemeth gestures at the rickety barn. “He led us to this, did he not?”
“He could have led us to an inn,” I say tartly, but I let a smile curve my lips. “But this will do for now. So tomorrow morning you’ll fly for me, and then we’ll see how to proceed from there. It’s decided.”
“Stubborn mule,” he says, his voice loving. “But fine. In the morning, I will fly and we will see how it goes.”
“If you really want to speed up our travel, is it safe for you to slide through the shadows? Like you did in the tower?” I bite my lip, because it feels strange to even ask. The magic of it unnerves me, but he said it was safe as long as the area was wide open and visible, and our surroundings certainly are. “But only if it’s safe.”
This time, the look in his eyes grows dark. He shakes his head. “I’m not certain I wish to risk it. When we crossed the water, something felt different than the last time I carried you.”
“Different?” Everything inside me clenches up. Has he figured it out? Has Nemeth discovered my secret already? Does he know I’m pregnant? I keep my eyes wide with innocence, my face carefully blank. “Teleporting me feels different? How?”
He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain. All I know is I don’t wish to try it again. We’re not supposed to shadow-glide with a human anyhow.”
I want to tell him that I have Fellian blood. That somewhere down the line, one of my ancestors—likely the legendary Ravendor herself—had sex with a Fellian and gave birth to his child. That I’m pregnant with his child, too. But the words won’t come. They stick in my throat like honey. I’m afraid something will change between us. That he’ll realize I’m more fragile than he anticipated and leave me behind.
The thought terrifies me. I grab his hand and put a smile on my face to hide my fear. “I can walk.”
We gaze at each other for a long moment, and I scarcely dare breathe for fear he’ll read the secret on my face.
“Your medicine,” Nemeth finally says. “Are you ready for it?”
I nod. Anything to divert the conversation.
He pulls out the bag full of my carefully cleaned medical kit—the needles, the syringe, the cloths, and finally the vials of prepared potion that have to be warmed. I watch, wordless, as he starts a fire with a flick of magic. It burns inside the small pot we brought for such things, and he holds the vial over the flames for just a moment before attaching the needle to the end and flicking it to ensure there are no air bubbles. I untie my sleeve and roll it up, and we use a sip of our precious drinking water to wash my arm.
Nemeth readies the syringe and then gazes at me with a somber expression. “I’m sorry I cannot be a better mate to you, Candra. You deserve a prince with two working wings and stronger magic, and instead you got me.”
What? Does he think I asked about his wing because I’m mad at him for not flying?
Before he can administer my shot, I push his hand aside. “Wait a moment.”
He looks surprised at my hesitation. “Are you in pain? Do you need to vomit? Shall I find a bucket?” He glances around, getting to his feet. “Give me a moment?—”
I slide forward, onto my knees, and hold on to his leg. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop doubting yourself.” I gaze up at him. “I don’t care that you can’t fly. I only asked because I know it’s hard for you. I don’t care if you don’t have huge magic. I don’t have any. I don’t care if we have to walk every step of the way to Castle Lios. I just want to be with you. We’re in this together, the both of us. Every step of the way. Understand?” I cling to his leg, pressing my cheek against his strong, strangely bent thigh. I run my hands up and down his leg. I wonder if our child will have knees that bend backward like Nemeth, or if they will be like mine. I wonder if they will have wings.
I wonder if they will have his huge, giving heart.
I brush my lips over his skin. “I love you, Nemeth. I don’t want anyone but you. Understand? You and I are doing the best we can, no matter the situation. None of this is what was expected to happen. We were supposed to stay in the tower, but they were also supposed to bring us food. Now we’ve left, and we’ll figure it out. All of it. But I don’t want you blaming yourself. Not when you’re the best thing in my life.”
HIs hand lands atop my head, and I don’t even mind that it brushes over my sunburn. His fingers dig into my braid, his remaining claws tugging at my hair. “I would do anything for you,” he rasps. “You know that, yes?”
I love the hunger in his tone, the yearning. And even though I’m weary and sunburned, I want nothing more than to touch my mate right now, to pleasure him and show him how much I adore him. I slide my hand up under his kilt, brushing my fingers over the linen wrap underneath. “I want you.”
“Now? After the day we’ve had?” When I nod, he groans, and as I stroke my fingers over his cock, I can feel it hardening in my grasp. “I cannot give you my knot, milettahn . We do not dare the enemy finding us locked together and helpless.”
“Then don’t give me your knot,” I whisper, rubbing him through the fabric. “Just let me suck on you and give you pleasure.”
Nemeth groans, and I know he can’t resist.
I stroke him harder, gazing up. “Take your kilt off for me?”
He nods, and quickly divests himself of his belt and then the kilt itself. The linen wrap goes next, all the while I grab the pack I’d been sitting upon earlier and use it as a footstool. Now, when I’m on my knees, I’m the right height to pleasure my massive, tall mate. I sigh with anticipation at the sight of him naked, his cock rigid in front of me, his knot not yet full. Unable to help myself, I reach out and clasp him in my hands, rubbing my face against his shaft.
“I love this,” I whisper. “Love the feel of you in my hands, your hot skin against mine.” I run my cheek along his cock, just enjoying the feel of his hardness. “Love knowing that this is mine to play with.” Just touching him makes me ache, my pulse throbbing between my thighs. I could cheerfully worship his cock all night long, but something tells me he’s going to want more than just me rubbing on him like a kitten for hours. I grip him at the base, looking up at my mate’s glowing green eyes. I love the way he watches me as I lick him from knot to tip, then swirl my tongue around the head. A burst of pre-cum flavors his skin, and I lap it up, not surprised when another droplet replaces the first. He’s perfect, my beautiful Nemeth, the tapered tip of his cock all but begging for me to suck upon it.
So I do. I’m not one to deprive myself, after all.
I take him into my mouth and love the ragged sound he makes. Love that his hand carefully tightens in my hair. Love the sharp inhale of breath when I tongue the underside of his cock and then suck him deeper into my throat. I work him with my mouth and tongue, my hand squeezing over his now-taut knot. As I do, I gaze up at him, as if he’s the only thing in my world, because I know he likes to watch my face when I suck on him.
Nemeth’s eyes are fierce with need as he watches me. I suck him deeper, even though my jaw aches with the size of him, and the head of his cock buts against the back of my throat. My eyes water and saliva pools at the corners of my mouth and still I take him, my gaze locked on his.
“Candra,” he breathes, his voice reverent even as he rocks gently, shuttling into my mouth. His movements are careful, but I don’t want him careful. I want him unhinged. I want him lost in the moment. We both need to forget about the stress of today.
So I hike my skirts up and slip a hand between my thighs, stroking my clit even as his hand settles heavier on my head.
“Greedy thing,” he mutters, and then shows me that I’m not the only greedy one. He pushes on my head, forcing me to take more, and drool slides down my chin. He thrusts again, and I make a low noise around the cock stuffed in my mouth, my fingers moving faster over my clit. I can’t even get close to his knot, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s using me, fucking my mouth with his quick, jerking motions, and I love it. I love that he’s got a firm hold on my head now, his cock hammering against the back of my throat as he works towards his release. I love the grunts he makes, love how stretched my lips are, how red-hot his knot feels under my grip. I whimper as I rub my clit harder, close to the edge. I just need a little more?—
Nemeth’s breath hitches and then he lets out a low, guttural sound. In the next moment, my mouth floods with his release, his knot like a rock beneath my grasp. I immediately lose my orgasm, drawing back and coughing as his seed fills my mouth. He spills over my face and then onto the front of my dress as I draw back, one hand on his cock and squeezing his knot in the way I know he likes. I murmur his name over and over again as I milk him, not caring that my traveling dress is ruined. It’s just a dress, and Nemeth’s need at this moment is far more important than anything else. “I love you,” I tell him, gazing up adoringly with my messy face. I’m hit with a surge of emotion so intense it brings tears to my eyes. “I love you so very much.”
He groans again, then covers my hand, squeezing his cock one last time before heaving a tremendous sigh of release. His fingers stroke my cheek as he catches his breath, and I use my hem to wipe my face clean of his spend. His knot is swollen now, aching and huge, and I run my fingers over it as he shudders with aftershocks of pleasure. It takes time for his knot to go down, and I can probably make him come again just by teasing it with light, stroking touches as he waits.
But Nemeth pulls me away with gentle hands, shaking his head. He drops to kneel beside me, pressing my face with kisses despite the fact that I’ve just wiped away his cum. “You are incredible,” he tells me. “The most perfect, beautiful, talented creature.”
“I am pretty great,” I tease, running my hands over his chest. “It’s all true.”
He captures my mouth again and nips at my upper lip. “Did you make yourself come?”
“Not quite, alas. My fingers weren’t fast enough.” I’m feeling playful and more like myself despite our rather dreadful surroundings. This is who I am, I remind myself. A sexually confident tease who is loved by a big, delicious, winged Fellian. In or out of the tower, that won’t change.
“A shame,” Nemeth tells me between light, hungry kisses. “Luckily for you, I know where to find a mouth to finish the job.”
“Now that sounds like an excellent idea. Should I lie on my back?”
He looks around us, eyeing the moldy straw. With a quick kiss, he releases me and tears open one of our packed bags, digging out a blanket and spreading it over the ground. “Here,” he says, voice gruff and his eyes a deep, delicious, sated shade of green. “Lie down for me.”
I don’t need to be told twice. In the next moment, I’m on the blankets, wriggling with anticipation when he pushes my skirts up faster than I can haul them to my waist. He tugs my bloomers down, tearing at the delicate fabric with his remaining claws, and then his face disappears between my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as his hungry mouth latches onto my clit, going straight for the best part. With a moan, I cling to the sleek horns that arc back from his brow, trying to find something to hold onto. “Just like that, Nemeth,” I pant. “Gods, your mouth is so good.”
“Look at how wet you are,” he rasps between decadent licks of my cunt. “I love that touching me makes you so slick with need. All of this, just because you sucked my cock?”
I whimper when he laps at my clit. “I like sucking your cock.”
“Clearly.” A thick finger pushes inside me—one of the ones he keeps shorn short so he doesn’t claw me. He tongues my clit again and strokes his finger in and out of me, working me. I huff with need and rock against his hand, and this time, he doesn’t lift his mouth to talk. He just keeps sucking and licking, and the orgasm that was so close crashes over me with fierce intensity. I cry out, clinging to him as the ripples of pleasure wash through me, until his tongue no longer feels pleasant, but too sensitive. I gently tug him away, and Nemeth crawls over me, pressing one more wet kiss to my mouth—his lips tasting of my cunt—and then collapses next to me.
I slowly tug my skirts down, thinking of all the washing I’m going to have to do. Maybe I’ll just throw away this dress. I can’t very well return to Castle Lios in a gown that reeks of sex and is covered in dried cum. I have another dress packed away…somewhere. And I won’t need these gowns when we return to the castle. I’ll have my wardrobe back, and Riza, and Nurse. I want that so badly I can taste it, and I sigh happily, turning and tucking myself against Nemeth’s big form.
“Candra,” my mate murmurs, stroking my braided hair.
“Hmm?”
“I…” He hesitates, then holds me tighter against him. “It’s nothing. Just me worrying.”
Well now, that makes two of us. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing,” he replies. “Nothing at all.”
It takes everything I have not to touch my stomach. Has he figured it out…but no. If he knew, he’d say something, wouldn’t he?
Surely?